#still try to hold onto what makes you human even though there are forces on all sides of you attempting to make you make you 'like them' -

[mad-hunts]

goddd. okay, i know it was honestly QUITE some time ago that i talked about jack mathis, so let me just give y'all a bit of a refresher as to why he is the (current) best of that mathis kids in my humble opinion: he doesn't like killing, but will do it in instances where he is 'forced to' (and i mean where he feels like there's no other choice BUT to do so, such as to protect one of his family members, or save them from going to jail, etc.) and jack honestly just wants to make barton proud.

(though, unfortunately, his father tends to treat him the worst out of all of his kids because of his 'joking' attitude). and he is also touch-starved as HELL / actively seeks out anything that will bring him comfort in regards to this, like warm showers, for example. so let me get on to the reason why i'm saying 'god' — him literally barely scraping by on the positive interactions he gets from barton when they have a 'family night' once a week?

as well as once a month, when his father takes a day off to just spend playing video games with jack + whatever else he wants to do? it's such a sad concept for real, because just imagine having five days out of the month feeling like they're the only reason why you've kept whatever semblance of sanity you have left. well, that and his relationship with matilda, as she is the closest sibling to him, but 😭

considering jack has the lowest amount of blood on his hands, and he actually seems to have a stronger conscience (though i could see him still having some moments where he's morally bankrupt)... i think there could be a good chance that he could be, quote unquote, 'flipped' as in change to want to redeem himself. but he feels an obligation to be loyal to his family, which might make that difficult NGL

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

34 / 3.2k / part 2 of shark mermen Gaz and Soap for mermay >:)

...

You wake up to the morning sunlight glimmering off Gaz's salt-glazed skin. He's leaning over you, watching you intently with those fathomless all-black eyes.

You gasp and immediately drag yourself away--or try to, given the way his tail is wound under your legs like a snake's. In your haste, you bump up against Soap, who lurks behind you, somehow again taking you by total surprise.

Your heels scrape against sharp gravel as you fight to get out of reach. Gaz's tail coils inward as if to drag you back in, and you almost collapse over it in your scramble. But you finally manage to get out of reach. You stare down at them, your heart pounding in confusion and panic.

Soap smirks like this is the most fun he's had in weeks. His tail swishes in the shallows behind him. "G'morning."

This is a nightmare. A hallucination.

"Don't look so shocked," Soap says. "You've still got all your pieces. You really should try being more thankful. We saved your life."

"Saved my--" You cough and sputter. Salt and sand coat your throat. "You tried to kill me!"

"You would've died anyway," Gaz says. His matter-of-fact tone of voice is somehow more terrifying than Soap's high-energy arrogance.

"We were havin' a little look at you," Soap says. "That's all."

"You bit me!"

"Just a nip," Gaz admits. "I was curious."

"I wasn't," Soap says with a flash of his sharp teeth. He looks down at the second set of teeth marks--his teeth marks--on your calf. "That's a love bite."

⬇ nsfw, monster mermen, overt predator/prey dynamics, blood kink ⬇

You pull your legs in, withdrawing further up the rocky beach as you get to your feet. You don't have much space to get away from them. Worse, this tiny cove will be all but swallowed by high tide. The only way out is either back into the water or up the rocky face of the cliffs on all sides. You can only imagine the rock cutting into your bare hands and feet--or worse, climbing halfway up, slipping, and landing on the carpet of glass-sharp gravel.

There’s nowhere to go.

Soap stretches toward you again as you back away. He does it in this motion like a shrug, like he's luring you into a false sense of security by making you think he just happens to be putting his hands near your ankle. He can’t hide how the muscles in his shoulders bunch, wanting to pounce. "You'd have a better chance jumping back into the sea and holding your breath than climbing those rocks, human. Maybe you outswim us this time, even. Want to try?"

"I'll take my chances," you snap. His claw brushes your foot, and you quickly backpedal, climbing up onto the biggest boulder you can manage. It's only about as waist-high, though, and unsteady. Not quite tall enough to boost you toward any solid footholds up the forty-or-so-foot cliffside. Still, you have to try.

Gaz watches with annoyance as you reach for a shallow indent in the rock. "You'll kill yourself. Be reasonable," he scolds.

Your fingers find uncertain purchase in the shallow ridge overhead, and you force your toes to get with the program and grip what might be a rocky shelf to your side.

The two mer watch you haul yourself up a few feet. Soap pushes himself up the beach to get a better view, tail curling. Gaz studies the muscles in your legs. Then he watches your hands grip the rocks. You look even more defenseless in the sunlight, skin battered from exposure and clothes torn from the waves. His eyes follow the curve of your calf to the blood that's dried on your ankle. It looks bad.

He doesn't see you making it high enough for the inevitable fall to kill you, but it irritates him that you're choosing to act like this. You're fragile. Obviously, if he and Soap wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. They did their best to not kill you. He did, anyway.

"You think we'd let you drown when the tide comes in after keeping your fragile human body alive and intact this long?" Gaz calls up.

You ignore this in favor of boosting yourself up another foot. Your fingers slip on the next hold. Gravel clatters down the rock and showers both mer.

Soap smirks. "Gonnae fall, aye?”

Gaz's voice is flat. "Let her."

You make it up another two footholds before you slip.

Soap's smirk morphs into a wild laugh as you topple backward. You land on the rocks, hard, air knocked out of you with a surprised gasp. Both mer prowl toward you.

You dig the heels of your hands into the wet sand to scramble to your feet again. A sudden, sharp pain makes you hiss. You rip your hands out of the gravel to see a shard of curved glass sticking out of your palm of your dominant hand. Blood stains the base and wells up, trailing down your wrist.

Soap clocks the smell of blood. "What d'you want to try next, hmm?" he muses, tail swishing behind him. "Hurry up before the tide comes in or that cut'll attract somethin' unfriendly."

You glare at him. You want to scream. Or cry. You need help, but what are the chances the rescue boats will come back this way?

"So?" you snap, hiding your hand against your chest as he leans closer. "What does it matter to me if you eat me or something else does?"

"We don't care to eat you," Gaz says. "And if we did, we wouldn't share."

"Don't know about that, Gaz," Soap purrs. "You think she looks delicious, don't ya?"

You look from one to the other, still clutching your bleeding hand. "Why would you bring me here if you didn't want to eat me?"

"Curiosity." Gaz's eyes dart back to your face. “I told you.”

Frustration burns in your chest. "You bit me. You dragged me around the water. What else is fucking left to be curious about?"

Gaz hesitates. To him, you are a sight. Tattered clothes clinging to your damp body, he can see more of you than when he first spied you on that little boat, sitting so carelessly with your legs dangling in the water.

He stares at the bite wound on your arm. It's not just a “nip” like Soap’s--it's deep. A bite that left a deep, dark, ugly mark surrounded by a ring of dark blue-purple bruising. It will scar. The memory of his teeth will always be in your skin. He can still taste you: fresh adrenaline, copper blood, and seawater.

"What you feel like." His voidlike eyes are half-lidded, his voice soft. "Up close."

You glance back at him, your heart pounding. You're defenseless right now--you have been since they threw you onto this beach. So there has to be some truth to what they're saying, right? You remember reading somewhere that sharks are curious. That they sometimes investigate with their teeth, biting without any real intent to injure. So... maybe...

Soap leans in behind you and skims his clawed fingertip up your arm, his voice just past the shell of your ear. "We can take you back to shore, easy. We just need to clean those wounds. How about it," he purrs into your ear. "Gonnae help us help you?"

You shy away from his touch, feeling goosebumps break out all over. "Okay. Okay, fine." You glance down at your hand, then at Soap. "But not... not you."

You look at Gaz, hesitant, but your meaning is clear.

Soap's smirk twists into a frown. "Why not me?"

Gaz snatches your wrist. "Come here, then."

You find yourself pulled into the arms of a shark again as Gaz shuffles you into the crook of his arm. You're awed at how much bigger than humans these shark mer are. He coils his tail under you both. He grips your bloodied wrist in one hand and plants the other firmly on your hip to slide you even more flush against him. Any protest you had dies in your throat as he repositions your injured hand in his and plucks the glass out in a single, rough motion. A gasp punches out of you. The noise has Gaz pulling you closer, his arm wrapped tight around you.

You tense up, watching the claws on his hands very carefully, but he seems to maneuver you in such a careful, conscientious way to keep from hurting you with them that, once he has you positioned on his tail, you relax somewhat. They really are being careful with you, you realize. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders. You breathe out through your teeth. You can let this happen. Some people would love to be in your position, even. There's something tender but not quite gentle in how he grips you and how his thumb presses into your thigh.

He tucks your head under his chin. A low hum vibrates in his chest. Something about the sound is soothing. Or at least distracting enough that you don't notice him moving your hand to his mouth until his hot tongue laves over your wound.

Your blood--in his mouth--and roaring in your ears. How did you let yourself be tricked into letting a shark lap up your blood while he’s holding you close enough that you can see the beads of sea water clinging to the scarred ridges of his chest?

Even Gaz is somewhat surprised at the way his tongue instinctively scrapes over your wound to stem the blood flow. It's not an entirely animal compulsion to lick the wound clean--it's a practical enough way to clear away the blood. Tasting you is a bonus. That's what he tells himself as he trails his tongue down your arm to catch what's dripping down in rivulets to your elbow.

You squirm at the sting. Gaz tightens his grip.

"Is that all you were curious about, then?" Soap asks, sliding closer. He's talking to Gaz but looks down at you with glimmering solid blue eyes.

"Steady," he breathes, his voice still rough. He can smell your nervousness. He can feel your heart pounding. "She's got cuts all over. Let me..."

You feel his hands begin to peel away your tattered clothes and slide under them. You bite down on a squeal, grabbing his wrist. "Hey--!"

Before you can voice your protests fully, Soap's fingers brush the small bite mark on your ankle. You jolt, pulling your legs away and hugging them to yourself. Distracted by this, Gaz lets his free hand glide over the outside of your leg. His calloused fingers follow the curve of your hip, your thigh, your calf. He tugs your leg free so he can study the underside, too. He runs the pads of his fingers all the way back up to the bend of your knee, along the flesh of your hamstring, across the inside of your thigh. You shiver.

At the same time, Soap tugs at the bottom of your tattered shirt with interest. "Why d'you humans wear cloth? Is it because your skin is too thin?" Before you can reconsolidate yourself enough to answer, he scoffs. "All the good it does you. Shreds easier than seaweed."

“Mm,” Gaz agrees absently. He shifts you so your back is back braced up against his chest, your legs bunched up atop his tail. This way, he can keep you here and keep his hands free. He’ll have as much access to you as he needs.

At this angle, you feel rather than see the smooth dark planes of Gaz's chest and stomach. It should be wrong to notice the scars that run over his arms as they pass over you. Or the way his muscles ripple under your back. His body is a dichotomy: warm to the touch and smooth as fine silk, but rough and coarse with scars. Plus there’s the shark half.

Soap snatches up one of your ankles. He prods at your foot. "You get around on these?"

You huff. "When I can, clearly."

He runs the edge of one of his claws over the top of your foot, follows the arched bone underneath, and presses into your instep. He pokes and prods and presses hard on the ball of your foot with a curious look. "Must be slow."

"Doesn't have to be fast," you mutter.

"Then how d'you catch food?"

"I don't have to catch my food."

"You're a predator, though. You've got eyes facing forward."

"I can hunt what I need to hunt.” Salads and instant noodles, but you don’t bother saying that.

"That's good." Soap's hands slide to your toes. He finds it weird how your feet sort of resemble his hands. Little fingers and claws and everything. "As long as you've got prey slower and smaller and softer than you are."

"If that's even possible," Gaz says.

You scowl. Rude.

Gaz seems to enjoy your sour reaction a little too much. "I suppose your prey must be stupid, too."

"Watch it."

A smirk plays at his lips as his gaze flicks down to the rest of you, curled up on his lap in his arms. "Do you think you can make me? What'll you do--scratch me with your claws?" He laces your fingers with his. Your soft, blunt human fingers and his thicker, sharper, callused ones. "Bite me with your razor-sharp teeth?"

"Maybe."

"How vicious." He nudges your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. "Go on, then."

You consider it. Then you realize it would just prove his point, so you turn your face away with a huff. You wish you'd paid more attention to all those National Geographic specials about mer. You don't specifically remember any real-life cases of shark mer eating humans, but there are definitely made-for-TV movies about it.

Soap's hands creep up to your calf. His thumbs prod your shin and then your kneecap. "I can feel her bones," he says in surprise.

"We both have bones.”

"Well, yours are like rock. Ye got thin skin, hard bones. 'Cept your claws." Soap's fingers wander up your bare legs past your kneecaps. When they make it to your thigh, he grips it with his whole hand and squeezes lightly.

He's fascinated--amazed, even--by your body. It's almost enough to make you feel self-conscious, but everything you'd cover up is a fascination for them. Bumps, stretch marks, pock marks, folds, fat, stubble--you feel yourself tense up when hands wander to those parts of yourself you've learned to be ashamed of, but they don't react. Of course they don't, but still. It feels strange.

Gaz notices your discomfort. He keeps his grip light and loose on you, but his eyes linger on the flesh of your thigh in Soap's hands, the way your skin dimples under the pressure. "It's like a seal,” Gaz says.

"My thigh is like a seal?"

"Soft and blubbery,” Soap adds. "And seals are delicious." He leans down and pinches a bit of skin in his teeth.

You squirm a bit at the harmless little nip, but moreso at the way his hand slides a little too far up your thigh. You put your uninjured hand over his to stop it from going any higher.

Unfortunately, that just seems to draw his attention to what might be up there. His eyes flick up to your shorts. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like nothing." He grabs the hem of your shorts to slide them higher.

You grab his hands. "Hey!"

He grins. "You're a bit twitchy.”

"That's not allowed," you tell him, face burning.

"Isn't it?" Gaz says. He loops his long fingers under your thigh and lifts it up as if to give Soap more room. "Whose rule is that?"

You quickly snap your thighs shut anyway, curling your legs into yourself as best you can. "My rule. Don't touch."

A low noise of frustration rumbles in Soap's chest. "Why do humans cover up so much?" His hands slide up your outer thighs, and he bends until his face is almost level with your stomach. His frown deepens as if this were the thing he was really curious about. "Just let me look for a second."

"Absolutely not."

"Waste of nice soft human skin," he mutters. "Hiding it all away."

“Let us in,” Gaz says.

“No.”

"Not even me?" he asks.

"No."

They both frown.

"Why not?” Gaz asks. “What are you keeping there?"

You huff. "It's my-- my reproductive things. Happy?"

"Your... reproductive things." Soap furrows his brow and turns his head to Gaz. "Reproductive like a fish?"

Gaz's fingers continue to squeeze your inner thighs in slow, deliberate motions. "No," he says after a beat. "Like a mammal."

"Ah. So?" Soap gives you a blank look. "Those are all up inside you then, aye? Nothin' to see."

He takes hold of your knee again. You immediately pull out of his grasp and turn to the side, sitting up on your knees this time as Gaz shifts his tail to accommodate you. "Nothing to see as far as you're concerned," you respond, curt.

Soap continues to leer at you, but his prodding is less insistent at your clear refusal. "Just tell us then. Where is it exactly? In the front? Or the back?"

You cross your arms. "None of your business."

"Don't humans mate for fun?" Soap asks.

“I didn't say that.”

"They doooo," Soap singsongs. He smiles and bares his teeth, the sharp points on his canines glinting in the light.

All the heat that had gone out of your cheeks comes rushing back in. " Do you?"

Soap grins again in that annoying way. "We do. Very fun. So what's the big deal?”

"We're not mating is what," you snap. You push yourself off of Gaz’s lap and stumble a bit, catching yourself with a splash into the deepening tide. "When are you taking me back home?"

Soap looks disappointed at the possibility of being deprived so suddenly of his new toy.

Gaz frowns too. "Now you're talking like you didn't enjoy yourself." He pushes himself up and follows you into the water, his fins cutting through it smoothly. "But a deal is a deal. We’ll take you back to shore. Once night falls, of course."

"But it's morning!"

"So it is." Gaz circles your legs, forming a crescent around you as he comes to a rest on his side in the shallow water. He smirks at you like he finds your confusion endearing in a tedious way. "Night will come again. We've got time until then."

"But the tide will come in," you remind them, casting a look back at the tiny little cove.

"It will,” Gaz agrees.

You don't like the way his smirk grows. Soap grins, too.

A slow realization that you're being toyed with comes over you. "What am I supposed to do, then?"

Gaz's smirk turns to a lazy little grin to match Soap’s. "Keep letting us entertain you.”

You hem and haw, but ultimately, when they pull you back into the shallow water with them, you don’t fight it. You’d rather conserve your energy.

Soap's hands join Gaz's, running up your strange human legs again. "We're going to keep her. Right, Gaz?"

"Of course," Gaz murmurs. The sea doesn't like to release its gifts. "Why would we bother leaving a catch intact without keeping it?"

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / more Soap / more mer au / masterlist tag

[morning-star-joy]

some sweet ending

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F!Reader

Summary: A lazy night of domestic bliss.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Smut. Handjob, v fingering. Domestic life kink, competence kink, praise kink. Sub!Arthur. Vocal!Arthur. Subtle orgasm denial. Premature ejaculation if you squint. Established relationship/marriage. Chubby!Arthur. Mention of past canon-typical violence. Cigarette smoking. Mention of food/eating. Post-Canon, no TB, Arthur Morgan gets a happy ending with lots of love and orgasms. Arthur's POV.

Wordcount: 1.9k

masterlist || ko-fi || updates blog

dividers by @saradika

The unbearable heat of the summer day eases just slightly as it transitions to night, but it still leaves a light sheen of sweat on Arthur’s skin as he lays back on the bed, naked as the day he was born to try and combat the heat.

“Hotter than the devil’s asscrack out there,” he grunts, brushing a hand through his hair, still damp from the bath you’d forced him to take after a long day of hard work out in the sun. 

Not sharing my sheets with a smelly, sticky ol’ cowboy, you’d ordered him towards the bath you’d drawn with a pointed look, and he was off to do what you commanded with little more than a sigh.

You hum beside him at his crude comment on the weather, curled up on your side and facing away from him, turning another page in the new dime novel you’d coaxed him to pick up on his latest run into town for supplies. “Charming.”

“That’s what they always call me,” he sighs out sarcastically, and you do huff a quiet laugh at that. It’s a beautiful sound, your laughter; one that has always been more reminiscent of pure music than something human to him, and it curls a smile up onto his lips.

Arthur leans over to rustle through the nightstand, pulling out a cigarette to place between his smirk. He lights it and settles back into the pillows, and you’re turning onto your back to mimic his movements, propping up against him even when he grumbles in protest at your added body heat.

He makes no real effort to shake you off, though. Not when your hand subconsciously finds his knee, seeking the connection between you, even when he was right here and never going anywhere again. 

Your fingers, just as callused as his from years of running as outlaws, slowly stroke along the inside of his knee. The touch is borne from familiarity of the most primal, most loving kind; the joining of flesh and meeting of hearts; the simple gem embedded into a slim band, glinting in the low, flickering lamplight when your fingers keep retracing the same lazy circle on his skin.

When you reach the end of your page, Arthur watches your brows furrow, your hand clasping at the bottom of the book fidgeting. It takes a moment before he realizes you were trying to turn to the next page without removing your hand from his knee.

The simple, silent act of not wanting to separate from him tugs at the fondness of you that had found a home in his heart years ago, a silent admiration that had turned into love and devotion somewhere along the way.

He holds back a chuckle before he grabs the top corner of the page, tugging it from your grip on the bottom of the novel and turning it for you. Your head ducks further into the pages, but he sees the smile turning up the corner of your mouth, and a huff of amusement blows smoke out around the cigarette still perched between his own lips.

Slowly, your hand slips from his knee and up his leg, the muscles tensing in his thigh when your fingernails graze alongside it. The traitorous twitch of his cock between his legs in the soft moment isn’t lost on either of you, but you continue to draw those same lazy circles on his thigh.

Each stroke draws you closer inwards, until your nails scrape up along the V of his hips and pull a quiet grunt from his throat.

Arthur only lasts a few more passes of your nails up and down that line before he’s mumbling around the cigarette, “Sweetheart…”

You hum again, taking the cue and dragging your fingers up towards his soft belly, rounder from the years of eating well and not running for your lives. He hadn't been too fond of it for a while, but you had certainly found more…unorthodox ways to change his mind about it.

Dragging your fingers through the thick hair that grew more coarse the further down you went, he sucks in a sharp breath when you reach the base of his cock, tracing it with the tip of your trigger finger as the smoke fills his lungs and sends a rush through his head.

He’d watched that finger press down on the trigger of your trusty shotgun for years, watched you take lives time and time again, for the gang and for him. And now you used it to tend to your ranch and undress him and Jesus he was already so fucking hard it hurt, especially with the way you kept—

“Goddamn teasing me,” Arthur grits through clenched teeth, and your laugh is so airy, so wonderfully carefree, because you had all the time in the world now.

No more camps, no more keeping quiet and finishing fast in tents with the flaps sewn closed. 

This house was yours, something you’d built from the ground up together, and you could take all night taking each other apart. You could make him sing, and you would, after so long of making it clear just how much you adored the sounds of pleasure he once was so baffled that he could even make for you.

Another thing he didn’t believe you could actually enjoy, not until he cupped your cunt through your bloomers on one night of making him moan and whimper until his throat was sore, and found you completely soaked for him.

“You still get hard so fast for me,” you whisper, your hand gently wrapping around his throbbing cock until you have it in a tight fist, giving it a tug that pulls a whine from deep in his chest. 

Sweat from the hot night coats your palm, making each stroke and twist easier, and he’s already melting back into the pillows, free hand grabbing around your waist for purchase as his hips thrust up to smack against your closed hand.

“Only for you,” Arthur whispers, eyes half-lidded as he stares up at the ceiling of your bedroom, in your home, taking another idle drag from the cigarette as you lazily jerk him off.

He can hear the smirk in your voice when you murmur, “Good boy,” and he would’ve been lost right then and there if you didn’t wrap your hand around the base of his cock and squeeze.

Arthur’s whimper is choked, hand spreading across your sternum and slipping up to cup the swell of your breast through the chemise that sticks to your skin in the heat. He feels your legs shift beside him, a soft moan leaving your own lips when your thighs rub together, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose as he tries to hold on for you.

“Turn my page,” you whisper your order, and his shaky hand is leaving your body in an instant to follow your command. The loss of his palm on you makes you whimper, and he bites his lip when your hand leisurely slides back up his cock to circle that damned trigger finger around the red, leaking head.

Taking these kinds of orders from you, trusting you enough to guide him, had become a sweet relief after years of having to be such a strong, immovable force for everybody who always needed something from him. And everybody always needed something from him.

Where he was now, his life with you—it was the first real choice Arthur had made for himself in…hell, maybe ever. 

You didn’t need him to be here, you would be just fine on your own, as would he. 

But this was what you wanted. It’s what he wanted. When everything went up in flames, you were both left standing together amongst the ashes. 

And once every loved one who remained was taken care of, this was your first choice. The only choice. One you both made together, steps you took beside each other, even if neither of you were sure just where it’d get you. 

That faith his mentor had always wanted—Arthur had always had it.

It just was meant for you.

His fingers hastily push up your chemise, slipping down to drag between the soaked lips of your pussy. All it takes is the way he easily sinks a digit into your wet heat, your walls welcoming him in and sucking him down to just the first knuckle, before he’s spilling in your palm.

You ease him through it, like you always do, whispering soft praises as you lean down to kiss along the inside of his knee, giving gentle tugs of his cock until all the spend you could get out of him mixes with the sweat on his stomach.

Arthur only takes the time to put out the dangerously burned down cigarette before he tugs you back when you try to get a washcloth to clean him back up, replying to your sweet, loving assurances that you would be fine with his own assurances that he wanted this, he wanted you.

Because you were his best girl, his goddamn wife, and he wanted to see that beginning of want in your eyes dissolve into the dazed, relaxed look of complete ecstasy. You may be fine without being returned what you gave, but he never would be.

And so you end up straddling the mess you had made him leave on his own stomach. He pumps one finger into you until you can take two, two until you can take three, and it’s not long before you’re grinding down along his hand, your own name forgotten. 

His large hand palms at your tits before he grabs one, massaging the soft flesh while his fingers curl inside you, and your eyes roll back into your head. Hips rolling desperately, your slick coats his bottomed out digits, dripping down to his wrist until you are coming with a cry of his name, and Arthur grins.

He never really smiled before you.

You smile too, and it doesn’t fade. Not even when you collapse on top of him, and you’re both a mess of miserably hot, sticky limbs, but at least the last tendrils of pleasure linger, tying you together in sweet bliss that makes you hum happily.

Arthur hums quietly along with you, lips finding your forehead in a gentle kiss. He mumbles against the warm skin there, “What was that you was sayin’ earlier? Somethin’ about your husband bein’ a smelly, sticky ol’ cowboy?”

Your palm smacks against the old scar on his shoulder, something that finally doesn’t hurt anymore, and laughter rumbles from his chest as you lay your head on it.

“Shut up,” you grumble, even as you snuggle into him and kiss the healed over skin gently. He welcomes you in close, despite the mess between you.

Then, not a moment later: “I love you.”

Arthur smiles again as he whispers it back to you, and that smile stays when you both get up to gently wipe each other down, crack open the window to let a gentle breeze into the hot, sex-scented room, then crawl back into your bed.

As he watches your face relax with sleep, and feels the call towards dreams himself, he vaguely remembers a time where part of him had longed for the end.

Now, he just can’t wait to grow old with you.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Happy holidays! By any chance, could I ask for a HC where MC gets into an accidental baby acquisition trope and has to babysit with Azul, Sebek, Malleus, and Riddle?

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul is about to write a ransom note if this person expects to get their baby back. He’s drawing up the terms of the contract as you’re coddling the baby, knowing there wasn’t a point in trying to talk him out of it as he was already infuriated that he’d had this responsibility dumped on him randomly. He doesn’t get how you can just accept this injustice and you rolled your eyes at him, telling him most people didn’t spend an hour negotiating a deal before performing a task. He still doesn’t want much to do with the baby but unfortunately for him the baby is endlessly fascinated with him; they constantly reach out to grab at his glasses or his hair, and he’s quickly scribbling additions onto the bill in regards to smudges and emotional distress.

He does eventually hold them when you have to retrieve something (the other alternative being they took off into the lounge if he just left them on the ground which he knew would piss you off, and he especially didn’t feel like dealing with that) but he claimed he didn’t enjoy the time. The baby continued to poke and prod at him, with Azul returning the gesture and poking at the baby’s cheeks which only sent them into a fit of giggles. It almost got a smile out of him but he couldn’t take the hit to his pride, huffing and hastily handing the baby back over when you returned.

Malleus Draconia:

Please keep an eye on that baby. Malleus’ only interaction with human babies had been with Silver when he was just a little ball of chub, and with Lilia being his father… Silver was lucky to have survived his childhood but he had always been special. This baby was not Silver however, and while Malleus would never purposely put them in harms way you can see he doesn’t have the same gentleness another human might have with a fragile little baby. He doesn’t mind when you correct him on the proper way to hold them and listened intently as you explained some of the actions to avoid, like pulling at their little limbs or allowing anything to hit their head. He thinks this is an interesting learning experience though he’s not quite sure what he might need to know about taking care of a human baby, but it also made him happy because it meant you were spending time together.

The baby looked up at Malleus with wide eyes at first, having never seen a fae with long horns or a man quite as striking as Malleus Draconia. They quieted down whenever Malleus spoke to them, seeming to like the sound of his voice and babbling back when he stopped talking. Once they were more comfortable with him they couldn’t help but reach up to touch his horns which you carefully monitored, watching as they felt the new texture and making sure they didn’t yank at them (or his hair) too harshly. Malleus commended their curiosity and lack of fear, thinking it was quite refreshing.

Riddle Rosehearts:

You might assume Riddle would try to collar a baby who was crying incessantly or who wouldn’t listen, but he was surprisingly patient. He took offense to that observation as of course you couldn’t force a baby to follow rules, but you could try and that would matter more than anything. He thinks it’s good to introduce kids to rules as early as possible so they can start getting them into their little heads even if they can’t memorize them quite yet; maybe in the future these early lessons would prove fruitful. He’s patient but it doesn’t mean he won’t get frustrated, able to pull all kinds of knowledge out about babies but not knowing how to truly connect with them.

The baby does stop crying each time Riddle began to talk about the rules, and he even pulled out a book to read through to keep them distracted. He thought this was a good activity because it gave them both something to do, and the little one did seem invested in what he was saying even if they didn’t truly understand. He had never been read to like this when he was young and it sent a pang through his heart, wondering if things might have been different if he had a little more wonder in his young life. Either way, he was no longer the baby in this situation and all he could do was hope they were enjoying their time with him while it lasted.

Sebek Zigvolt:

You think there might be a competition going on about who can be louder. Neither one of them even seem to be shouting but the baby responded with the same tone as Sebek, and his speaking voice just had a natural boom to it. While he had wanted to run at first you had begged him to help you, and while that hadn’t done much the baby’s fascination with Sebek’s portrait of Malleus had. You think the interaction is the funniest thing in the world especially when Sebek tried to indoctrinate the baby into the Malleus Draconia club, holding the portrait in his arms while tears gathered in his eyes.

The way he lit up when he talked about Malleus was cute and the baby clapped in response to his rambling, urging him to continue. Sebek wondered if he repeated Malleus’ name enough if the baby might say it. You stated the parents might not appreciate it but Sebek said it was their own fault as they were the ones who suddenly left him with the baby; either way, they should be honored if Malleus’ name was the first word they uttered. The baby has not a single clue what’s going on but thinks the two of you going back and forth is hilarious, collapsing into fits of giggles each time Sebek made a new face at you trying to reign in his Malleus obsession.

[revelboo]

Heels(Starscream) always had a special place in my heart, but more as a comedy relief character, but damn, your writing has actually made me feel bad for/love that dude. XD

I was the same way at first, but then I kept wondering why he acts the way he does and, well, you can see what I made of his character in the end.

Everything is Alright Pt 31

Starscream x Reader-lost

• This is the right thing. It hurts too much to be anything else. Your little hands shift on his palms, as he keeps you caged. More so he doesn’t have to look at you than any worry of you falling. If you start asking questions his resolve is going to shatter. It’s already so thin it’s fraying at the edges, but that dream has dug its claws into him and won’t let go. Not a possible outcome, a maybe, but an inevitable one that he can’t allow and it’s tearing at his spark. One good thing just for him alone, but he isn’t even allowed that.

• He’s quiet except for the faint sound of his wings shifting in little fits and starts, that little tell giving away that as silent as he is, his mind is busy as you peek through the servos caging you. It’s the frown on his lips that snags you, though. Not like he’s displeased, but something else you can’t put your finger on. Something is bothering him. He was like this when he left for the day, and now that he’s back, his mood is even darker as he carries you. He’d brought you outside again, but not for stargazing and that sense of something being off pulls at you. “Star?”

• That affectionate, little nickname rings through him and he almost shutters his optics. Because that just makes this so much harder. Servos flexing against you as he studies the overcast sky before dropping his attention to you as the breeze stirs your hair when he opens his hands. In the distance, thunder rolls. “Quiet,” he says, trying to keep his tone all ice when he’s anything but. It’s still not too late to turn back. Carry you back home where you belong. Be selfish again, because he needs you. Your little hands shift on his servos as he moves out of the woods and up onto a road.

• Isn’t he afraid of being seen if someone drives this way? You look around at the empty stretch of road, feeling an uneasy sense of familiarity. You know exactly where you are. Your car’s gone, probably towed away, but this is where you went off the road. Your fingers lift to that healed gash as your heart begins to race. The tree branches overhanging the road are broken and ragged where his wings had clipped them, the road surface pocked from weapons fire. It seems like a lifetime ago. Why bring you back here? “Starscream, what’s going on?”

• You cling to his servos as he bends and lowers you to your feet, holding on as he pulls his hand away. He can’t look at you, not while you’re staring up at him in alarm. Like you don’t understand, even though you must. Wings lifting stiffly, he forces his expression to empty, reaching for that cold indifference that’s been his armor so long. “Go home, human.”

• Your throat goes dry as you look up at those icy optics staring down at you. There’s no contempt in that stare, no bemusement. Nothing at all. It’s utterly empty and that cuts you clean to the bone, because he doesn’t care at all. He’d finally gotten tired of you? It’s what you wanted, right? A chance to escape, but you just feel lost. And as he turns and walks away without a look back, you can’t move. He leaps, transforming into that jet and it’s beautiful to watch even as panic paralyzes you. A rain drop lands on your cheek, the thunder lost to the scream of his turbines, your own cry too late. “Star?"

Previous Next

[sister-lucifer]

One Must Stake His Claim: Prologue 

Or: How It Started 

[Chapter One] [Masterlist]

Nightbringer Diavolo + Lucifer x Male Reader 

Genre: ? (Hard to say, it’s not really sweet enough to be fluff or harsh enough to be angst).

Summary: The first sprouts of a rivalry start to emerge when Diavolo makes his attraction to the new human painfully evident. 

Content/Warnings: Slightly suggestive but not really, just some sly implications, jealous Luci, smug Dia, oblivious MC, MC is referred to with he/him pronouns, this takes place at the beginning of Nightbringer when there’s still tension between Dia and Luci

A/N: This is stupidly self indulgent. Literally just me indulging in a fantasy i’ve been marinating in for days. I know for a fact I will be made fun of for this /lh

NOT FULLY PROOFREAD! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU SEE ANY ERRORS!

IF YOU LIKE THIS POST, PLEASE REBLOG! It’s easy, free, and it’s a great way to show creators some love by sharing their work!

“I want him.”

The words come out of Diavolo’s mouth so suddenly that Lucifer nearly chokes on air. 

They’re said with such a casual joviality, yet they feel so heavy, falling from the prince’s lips and crashing onto the pristine white tile at Lucifer’s feet. 

“…Y…You what…?”

“I want him,” Diavolo repeats simply, “He’s quite cute. I’m inclined to keep him for myself.” 

He nods in the direction that you just walked off in, and Lucifer looks down that hall just in time to catch the last glimpse of you before you disappear behind a door. His mouth hangs open in a terribly undignified manner as he slowly turns back to Diavolo. The demon prince laughs heartily, patting Lucifer’s shoulder as though he’s just said something hilarious. 

“What’s the look for, friend? Are you surprised that His Majesty could ever find time for genuine attraction between lavish soirées and keeping his nose in the air?”

He laughs again, rather fond of his own joke, and this time the sound makes Lucifer’s hands tremble as they resist the urge to ball into fists. 

“No,” Lucifer forces out, “I’m just surprised at your…” 

He pauses, fishing around for the right word. 

“…audacity.”

There’s a brief pause, then, before Diavolo’s laughter resumes, even more raucous than before. The prince simply can’t help himself. 

“Oh, Lucifer!” he manages through his fit, “You never were all that good at hiding your true feelings. Tell me, what about that bothers you so much?”

Lucifer is silent for a long few moments—partly because he despises trying to talk to Diavolo when he’s laughing so hard, and partly because he’s struggling to find the words to explain himself in a manner that will save his pride. 

“You talk as though you’ve some sort of…claim to him,” Lucifer begins, but he’s not sure how to continue. The last few notes of Diavolo’s laughter stop short as he quirks a brow curiously. 

“I only mean that…I wouldn’t expect you of all people to speak of him that way,” Lucifer finally says. 

“…You lie,” Diavolo says slowly. A sly grin slowly splits his face, and Lucifer swallows hard. 

“You lie,” he repeats, “there’s much more to it than that. You can hold a stone face all you’d like, old friend, but your eyes give it away. You’re angry, Lucifer. Why is that?”

Something in his voice says that he already knows, that the question is pointless and he simply wants to hear Lucifer say it for his own satisfaction. When Lucifer is silent, Diavolo only presses more. 

“Are you truly worried for the human’s dignity? Is that it? I haven’t even insulted him, and yet you scowl as though I’ve said something terrible, as if I’ve insulted his entire lineage. You’d never jump at the chance to defend your brothers that way over something so minor, but you do it for a mere human, a species you used to feel only apathy towards.  So, what is it? Do you know something about him that I don’t?”

It’s a stupid thing to even imply, that Lucifer may be privy to any knowledge that Diavolo is not. The demon prince knows all that goes on in his kingdom. 

The silence that settles over them is heavy. Diavolo is smiling with a horrid expression of self satisfaction, and it only makes Lucifer’s scowl deepen.  

Finally, Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, and he can hardly hear his own voice. 

“You have no right.” 

You have no right to take him from me, that’s what he means, I deserve him more than you do. He doesn’t say it, but they both sense the unspoken words hanging in the air. 

Suddenly, Diavolo’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Oh, but I do, old friend,” Diavolo says matter-of-factly. He places a heavy hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“If I have no claim to him, then neither do you. Surely we can agree on that, no? After all, you’ve hardly done more than frown at him every moment he’s in the room. If that was your way of courting him, I’m afraid it’s failed you.”

Lucifer growls and pushes Diavolo’s hand away. 

“I won’t let you take him that easily,” he snaps. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Diavolo responds without a moment of hesitation, “I just hope you know what you’re getting into challenging a demon.” 

“You don’t scare me, don’t even try.”

Diavolo only hums in reply before promptly turning on his heel to leave. 

“In that case,” he says with a shrug, now standing in the doorway, “you should prepare for quite the spirited battle.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated. 

[blackleatherjacketz]

All Better

Eric Northman x Female Reader

Summary: You miss a meeting because you're sick, and Eric makes a house call to make you feel better.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Eric being Eric, Strep Throat, Antibiotics, Shoving, Blaming, Kissing, Glamoring, Hypnotizing, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Healing Vampire Blood, Blood Drinking, Biting, Vampirism, Nipple Play, Licking, Cunnilingus, Female Orgasm

Read more Eric!

“You don’t look very good.” Eric states the obvious as his brows knit together in a look of, wait a minute, is that… concern that you’re seeing on his face? It must be the medication you’re on that’s blurring your vision and dulling your senses, because you’re pretty sure that ‘concern’ isn’t in Eric Northman’s emotional repertoire. “What’s wrong with you?”

It isn’t until he pushes you up against the wall, staring at your pale face as beads of sweat run down your temples that he understands why you didn’t show up to Fangtasia tonight or bother answering your phone when he called. The realization of your illness slowly melts that concerned look of his into a stoic expression of understanding, allowing his pupils to expand just the slightest bit before his lips part in silence.

“I’m just sick, it’s nothing.” You try to look away from him, tempted to fall back into your old habit of isolating yourself when falling ill, only he grabs hold of your chin to prevent that from happening.

“Sick, how?” That sense of understanding gets washed away in a flash, his brief display of genuine emotion quickly covered up by his usual curt and cutting tone.

“It’s just an infection, I know I should have called, I just didn’t think you’d…”

“Didn’t think I’d what?” He tightens his grip on your chin, bringing his face closer to yours. “Didn’t think I’d notice that my favorite human wasn’t there to greet me tonight?”

Favorite human? Did you hear that right? You can’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise as he admits it out loud, albeit through gritted teeth.

“I was too weak to drive out there, I…” You mutter as his cool grip on your face chills you even more, forcing your body to shiver in its febrile state.

“Then let me heal you.” He offers, his eyes scanning over your shaking form before he brings his wrist up to his mouth.

“What?” Your arrangement with Eric has always been very simple; you show up once a week to let him feed on you and he pays you enough money to cover your mortgage each month. It had never been more than that though, never crossed any other carnal line despite your secret desire for more intimacy with him. He had never once offered you his own blood before, and the idea of it still kind of scares you, if you’re being honest with yourself. “Heal me?”

“So you won’t be sick anymore.” He loosens his grip on your face, his hand falling loosely around your neck.

“I’m on antibiotics, Eric, I don’t need your blood.” You attempt to walk away from him but he places his palm flat across your chest, forcing you back into position against the wall. Even his restrained amount of strength is too much for your weakened muscles to withstand as you wince in pain.

“Let me heal you.” He stares into your eyes, accessing your subconscious mind as you can’t help but stare right back, too tired to put up any sort of emotional barrier between the two of you. You’ve seen him do this to others before, convincing them to do whatever he wanted, whether that be to pay him back, run away or even kill someone for him. You just never thought he’d do it to you.

“Okay,” You hear yourself whisper almost immediately before taking his hand and leading him to the couch at the far end of your living room. You watch him sit down as if he’s already been there dozens of times before, as if he’s lived there with you already, as if he owns the place. You feel him pull you onto his lap, guiding your hips and thighs so that you’re now straddling him in the middle of your couch as his hands carefully smooth their way up your back.

“You’re shivering.” He grins as you settle into him, your pelvis slowly rocking against his hips as his hands find their way into your hair. “I can fix that.”

“Yeah?” As scary as the idea of drinking his blood is, the thought of letting this feverish hell continue any longer seems way worse.

“Let me take care of you.” Eric fumbles through the random items on the side table closest to him until he finds something sharp at his disposal: a ball point pen. He pushes the cap off with his thumb, smiles up at you before jabbing the pen into his neck so quickly, you barely have a chance to register what’s happening before he pulls you in closer. “Now, drink.”

You gasp as your heart races in a confused sense of horror, watching droplets of his blood ooze out of his wound and down the porcelain skin of his neck. Your lips begin to tremble as his fingers weave their way into your hair, pushing your mouth in closer to his throat as you attempt to fight your body’s natural panic response.

“Drink.” He instructs again, only this time more sternly.

Having no other choice but to do as you’re told, you open your mouth and lick the droplets of blood from his neck as he continues to hold you in place. It tastes a little better than you thought it would, a sort of salty mixture with hints of iron and blackberry wine that leaves a surprisingly pleasant aftertaste on the back of your tongue. Kind of like a rich Cabernet.

Well, that’s not so bad, now is it?

You open up again and start down at his clavicle this time, making sure to clean up any remnants of the fluid until you get all the way up to the puncture site, greedily suckling straight from the source. You can hear him moan as you lap him up, feel his grip on your hair tighten as you consume him, getting lost in the closeness of your bodies and the binding of your fluids. You’re sure that he can hear your heart beating wildly inside your chest, thumping hard against his as you wrap your arms around his torso to get even closer to him. You can feel his blood working inside you, healing you on a cellular level; each vampiric red blood cell eradicating any bacteria into oblivion as the weakness leaves your muscles and the pain dissipates from your throat.

“Enough,” he whispers reluctantly, now having to pull your mouth off him. “That’s enough, sweetheart.”

His words barely bring you out of your trance, his salty flesh no longer beneath your tongue as he tugs on your scalp to get you to finally stop drinking. It’s almost as if you’ve been brought back to reality after having one of the most intense dreams you’ve ever had as you watch his wound heal just as quickly as he had made it. You’ll never get used to that.

“It worked.” You exclaim gratefully. “I feel better!”

“I told you.” Eric grins as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip, reminding you that you’ve made quite the mess of yourself. “This is why you have to let me take care of you.”

“I’m not very good at that.” You’ve always had to take care of yourself in the past. One lesson that life has taught you time and time again is that the second you start depending on someone is the very moment that you’ll be disappointed.

“I know, but you have to let me do it anyway.” His eyelids drop halfway down as he looks at you longingly, gazing upon you in a way that you’ve never noticed before.

Maybe it’s that look, or maybe it’s the high of his blood now coursing through your veins that makes you suddenly feel compelled to press your lips against his, letting that vampiric confidence guide your actions. You keep them there for a few seconds, realizing that he isn’t pulling away from you, but instead is kissing you back with just as much enthusiasm as he pulls tighter on your scalp.

You’ve always wanted to kiss him, from the very first moment that you saw him. But something about him told you that he had women throwing themselves at his feet left and right; and you didn’t want to be like one of them. You were just grateful for the little contact you got when he fed upon you each week. You relished every caress of your cheek, every squeeze of your waist that sent shivers down your spine before he ended up drinking his fill. You never thought that he’d be interested in you like this, that he’d actually want you in that type of way at all.

However, his tongue now parts your lips as his kiss intensifies, all but moaning the truth into your mouth as if he’s been waiting just as long to finally taste your lips. His kiss is desperate and sloppy, so different from the perfectly put together business man you first met that night at the bar. His composure casually crumbles to pieces as his hands travel all over your body, frantically grasping onto your muscles until they find themselves in your hair again, his lips curling into a deviously satisfied smirk.

You feel him grow beneath his jeans, his clothed member now brushing against the thin fabric of your underwear as his hips needily writhe against your junction. His deliberate movements trigger that moisture to collect between your thighs as he continues his rhythm upward with several shallow breaths. Now stained in his own blood, his mouth ventures over every inch of your lips and chin before moving down to your jawline, licking a trail alongside your pulse.

You whimper in response, grinding your needy center against him as you brace yourself for the bite that never comes. Instead he lifts your shirt up over your head, exposing your bare breasts to the cool temperature of the room as your nipples harden in front of his face.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” He teases, letting go of the rest of you so he can graze his palms across them, sending a much more intense tingling sensation down your spine.

“I didn’t know that you wanted to…” Your breath hitches as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking hard before wrapping his arms behind you and turning you on your back. He keeps contact with your skin the entire time, pulling on your sensitive tissue as he looks up at you with those eyes again, dragging your tender bud in between his teeth.

“Really?” He laughs with a smirk. He moves on to the next one before popping it into his mouth while pinching the other, sending a barrage of little fireworks into your skin. “You think I make feeding contracts lightly?”

“No, I uhh…” Your back arches toward the ceiling as he sucks bursts of delight into your tissues, humming a sweet vibration against your skin as you all but melt beneath him. Pleasure being the last sensation you expect to get from Eric’s mouth, you can’t help but feel a little breathless as his fingers simultaneously tug your underwear down your hips as they instinctively lift off the couch cushion to aid in their removal. “It’s hard for me to tell sometimes.”

“You thought I didn’t want you?” He licks a languid path down your quaking abdomen as your muscles contract in hurried anticipation, beads of sweat popping up in his wake. He circles around your navel with his tongue, kissing a hungry trail down your pelvis while his hands help slide your panties off your calves and feet. He smiles and spreads your thighs as far apart as they can go, straining your muscles as he stares at you like a jungle cat would its prey before it pounces. “Looks like I could be a better communicator.”

His fangs drop and his eyes darken, wasting no time in settling between your thighs to take the bite you were wondering would ever come at all. Instead of sinking his fangs into your femoral artery to get the most blood in the least amount of time, though, he bites you just above your swollen center. He laughs as you yelp from the piercing pain, letting that red hot fluid spill down your already dripping wet seam before he dives in to finally taste it.

That cold, blood-thirsty vampire that you’ve known for the past few weeks finally comes out as he starts licking streaks of crimson up and down your puffy lips, spreading the blood and gore into your folds as his tongue delivers that tantalizing balance of pain and pleasure that you’ve only read about in books. He growls like the creature of the night that he is as he devours you, snaking his arms beneath your thighs to pull you in even closer as his mouth delves into your flesh. Unable to be sated, he flicks his tongue up and down your sensitive clit, sending signals of ecstasy up through your spine and into your brain as your eyes flutter with visions of shapes and colors you never knew existed.

Maybe it’s the vampire blood pumping through your veins for the very first time, or maybe it’s Eric’s skilled mouth that forces your eyes to roll back into your head. The way he keeps eating and drinking makes it feel as if each and every tiny hair on your skin is now alive, standing on end waiting for him to touch them, to give them permission to explode until your entire body begins to shake. You reach out for him in vain as the otherworldly sense of euphoria washes over you, forcing every muscle in your body to convulse in rhythmic waves as he relentlessly drinks from your bloody cunt. He glances up at you only to grin as your skin changes color, warming and cooling in phases as your orgasm violently works its way through your skin and bones and finally out of your mouth.

“Eric!” You cry out as he finally pulls back from you, licking his lips as you rattle and hum in the crimson mess he’s made of you. “Oh my God, Eric!”

“See?” He smirks as he watches you come down from your hormonal high, running your hands through his hair as he finally gives your bloody center one last lick. “All better.”

[hazbn-oneshots]

Dancing Headcanons

Enjoy!!

Charlie:

Charlie loves to dance, that’s a given. With as strong as a passion that she has for singing, well it’s not really surprising when the two go together like milk and cookies.

Both a fan of freestyle dancing as well as more classical styles, she’ll grab your hand and pull you into a full Ballroom-Style Waltz before moving onto a lively two-step.

Speaking of the waltz, it’s one of her favorite dance styles. It makes her yearn for a day where she could throw a big party and just parade around the room, showing off just what kind of power couple is taking on Hell.

She mainly just likes to show you off, she’s very proud to call you her partner and she’d scream it from the rooftops if she could.Or even twirl you ‘round and ‘round an ornately decorated ballroom.

Until then she’ll settle for twirling you around in the dim light of your bedroom, singing quietly to the old record playing.

Vaggie:

Vaggie doesn’t know how to dance and it takes a lot of convincing and just a little bit of bribing for her to even entertain the idea of letting you show her some moves.

She’s relatively quick on the uptake, however, her background as a fighter serving her well to stay quick on her feet. She definitely takes to the livelier dances, absolutely loves to salsa and as soon as she hears the music she’s immediately tying her hair up.

Vaggie will never admit it to you but she looks forward to these moments with you, showing her whichever new dance you had practicing just to show her.

Lead her through a sultry tango and you’ll have her swooning in no time, although in the classic Vaggie fashion you’ve come to love. With a face brighter than the sun, if you even dare to try going for a kiss she’ll…. Well she may just let you have one ;)

Alastor:

Few may know but in the living world, Alastor lived quite a thriving social life and with that comes a little bit of knowledge when it comes to the dancefloor, be it old fashioned as it may.

He’ll be genuinely delighted if you’ll ask him to dance with you, probably one of the few times you see his forced grin slip into a more relaxed smile.

Alastor forces everyone to vacate the main floor of the hotel, after all, he would have nothing in the way of a perfect evening with his darling.

An evening complete with a custom outfit he’d had ordered for you from his tailor-only the best- and a shiny old phonograph that broadcast music that he was more familiar with himself. 

And with you on that floor, he almost feels like his old self. It’s like the hotel fades away only to be replaced with the backdrop of the old club he’d frequent when he was still human. He’ll fox trot ‘till the morning comes, loves to Charleston, his smile never wavering one bit.

He only begins to slow when he notices you begin to slow, tripping on your feet with a newfound exhaustion. He’ll glide you to a stop, one hand on your lower back and the other holding one of your own.

"We’ll break for now dearest, wouldn’t want to take you out of the race”

You better take a breath and drink of water though because before you know it you’re swept away again

Husk:

He’s more of a watcher, truth be told. With his big ol feet and wings, he knows he’ll end up getting in the way so he prefers to keep his post behind the bar. It doesn’t bother him, not dancing anyway. These stupid little hang outs that Charlie organizes at the hotel bar piss him off beyond belief however.

Things typically go one of two ways. Either every resident of this forsaken hotel will completely disregard the invitation; Which never fails to upset the poor princess and leave her and Vaggie sulking on a couch.

Or, on rare nights such as tonight, a few residents will show up and sometimes it’ll fizzle out not long after everyone gathers. 

Not tonight though.

You see, during your stay at the hotel you and Angel had come to become quite close and as such had decided to take it upon yourselves to liven everyone up a little. You pick the music though, Angel’s taste wasn’t awful but you feared sending Sir Pentious into a fit with the content.

You only try to ask Husk to dance once and his wordless response was but a chuckle.

"I don’t dance kid but, maybe next time” and if you catch the hint of fondness in his eye as he turns to put a glass away, you sure don’t mention it.

Angel Dust:

Sign him the fuck up, he doesn’t care what they put on, when it is, he just wants to grab his love bug and give them a spin.

He’s the type to remember certain reactions you’ll have to specific songs, making sure to add them to a special playlist reserved for you.

He even named it after you, adding little hearts and kissy faces next to your name.

Angel likes to break it put whenever you’re feeling down, even if you’re not fully up to a dance he’ll wrap you up in a gentle sway anyway. 

Due to the height difference he’ll let you stand on his feet while he sways back and forth. Complete with little peck kisses on the head and face as well.

It’s not long before you’ve got your face buried in his chest, wondering what you did to deserve someone like him.

He’s gonna twerk on you at some point those, it’s inevitable. If the two of you are out on the town for a night, you can bet he’ll be dragging you to the liveliest club possible, eager to dance up on his honey

Requests are open!!

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Hi I love your work! Would you have any sfw + nsfw relationship headcanons for So’lek x fem Sarentu Na’vi? I’m playing AFoP right now and I’m looking for crumbs in every in-game interaction lol

Pairing: So'lek/Fem!Sarentu!Reader

Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @neteyamsyawntu

Warnings: nsfw (will be under the cut), minors dni

A/n: Using my favorite picture I ever took while playing AFoP 💕 Imagine that's how he looked when you walked into the room.

Also, my first headcanon request! Yay!

~~~~~~~~~

Sfw:

This man trusts you with his life and therefore trusts you are safe and loyal to him, no matter how far or how long you two are apart. (Doesn't mean he trusts Eetu to keep his overconfident hands to himself)

You're constantly traveling and never in one place for long, and while he used to be the same way, he finds himself staying in a chosen few places for long periods of time so that you can easily find him.

While he isn't much for PDA, he's still Na'vi, and he is going to grab your tail, both publicly and privately.

After losing his own clan, he understands exactly what you need to finally and properly mourn the loss of the Sarentu. He gives you what he wished he could've accepted from others after the loss of his people.

Doesn't like it when people tease him about your love. He takes your relationship very seriously and doesn't see the teasing as lighthearted. Priya learns quickly that he's more broody if your relationship comes up in the conversation.

And it's not like he's ashamed of your relationship. He's very proud of it, thank you very much. Even though he isn't into PDA, he still properly courts you in Na'vi tradition like you deserve. He wants you to experience Na'vi traditions since you never had them growing up.

He forces himself to appreciate the Sky People's communication devices because they ease his worries when he's able to talk to you from long distances. Yes, he trusts you to be safe, but he can't trust the rest of Pandora to do the same.

Takes his role as Big Brother to the rest of the Sarentu (Ri'nela, Nor, and Teylan) very seriously since you clearly trust him to guide your family when you're traveling and away from home.

Nsfw (minors dni):

I've said it once, and I'll say it again, this man has ZERO shame when he's eating you out. He's hungry, and he's messy. He's not gonna care how loud or disgusting it sounds.

I wouldn't be surprised if he spent a whole night with his mouth between your legs. I doubt this man has had any action during his life of solitude and path of revenge, so he's going to make up for lost time. If he's craving your taste, you better let him ravage you.

He's one of those lovers who refuses to pleasure himself unless it's to pleasure you, your care and well-being first and foremost in his mind. He doesn't care if it physically hurts not being able to cum, he's going to make sure you cum first. Please please PLEASE give him just as much attention because he deserves it. 🙏

When you two finally mate and form tsaheylu, he's supporting your weight as he takes you up against the nearest tree, being as gentle as physically possibly even with your gummy walls hugging his cock so deliciously. It takes a lot of his strength and willpower not to rail you right away. Since you're bonding for the first time, he wants it to be prolonged and intense. He wants to take his time.

Another reason why he sometimes refuses to cum is because believe it not, he doesn't have a breeding kink. At least not yet. He's not oblivious of the world around you, and even in his frenzied need to have every part of you, he remembers the war and how it's no place to start a family, no matter how much the both of you might want it.

He refuses to budge on the matter, and you need to respect that boundary. So you try other ways to get him to cum. Having him fuck you between the thighs was the best idea since the human invention of sliced bread. He. Loves. It. You have to hold onto his tail because it's always thrashing wildly behind him as he grinds his leaking cock into the tight space where you clench your thighs.

This man has been so deprived that when he cums, he cums a lot. A LOT. It's a shame none if that goes inside you 🫣 what a shame.

Growls. Enough said.

Actually, no, not enough said. Growls between your legs and the vibration puts toys to shame.

Mating bites 🫦 but they're mostly hidden between your thighs, under your loincloth. You definitely feel them as you walk around, and that is one of the little things in life between you and him that gets So'lek to smile.

~~~~~~~~~

I will happily write more about this!

RULES

REQUEST

MASTERLIST

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[ladyxskywalker]

In Exile

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

after his battle with obi wan, anakin is spared & is instead banished to a remote farm world. there is no darth vader, no suit, no extensive injuries. only inner turmoil. he must find peace & healing. but what he didn't expect, was to find a kind lady there who just wants to be loved & help him.

part two

a choose your own outcome story ! weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter ! hope you enjoy ! 💌

Sunflowers, part one

It is an unusual time of day.

The sky has already become a softened shade of violet, the wind whispering quietly as it passes by - the suns, still felt to be the warmest right before setting.

Anakin looks up towards the haze. It is the later part of Summer on this planet. A forgotten place with no name that he calls home now. His farm, still needing tending to, even though things are sparse and the people are few here. 

He keeps to himself often because he likes it that way, burying himself in his work, trying to forget things on repeat. Striking thoughts and vivid memories appearing to him in his headspace, never seeming just to go away. 

anakin, this isn't you...

you're going down a path I can not follow...

It’s as if he doesn’t truly want them to disappear. As though he needs to remember, just to keep going in some sick and twisted way. 

this isn’t living.

I’m only just existing…

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anakin lets out a calming exhale of breath, standing solemnly amongst the grass, as he becomes lost inside their gentle stream of swaying. It is the only thing he can allow of himself now. Something simple to ground himself in so that he can not feel anymore pain. Those insufferable feelings will happen later. At night, when sleeping is a luxury for him and he isn’t so busy. He doesn’t get much rest these days, consumed by every ounce of remembering. Wishing he could just turn everything off if only he had willed it to be so. To truly be emotionless. A thread of left behind humanity, constantly reeling him back in again. 

goodbye, old friend…

may the force be with you…

Anakin scoffs, adjusting his tunic before kneeling down into one of the plant beds, examining the delicate leaves taking shape on his now flowering vegetables. They’ll be ready to harvest very soon - he thinks. Which means, he’ll get to be proud of something for a change. Happy to have watched something grow, even if it had been on the outskirts of nowhere, in the middle of this strange and quiet town...

But then, he starts to think of his unborn children. Feeling as though he’d blown his only chance in life of watching them live, breathe, and thrive in the world. Considering the possibility of being a good father, teaching them what it means to be…

intelligent.

brave.

resourceful.

or even … good.

“I’m none of those things. Not anymore…” he says.

This time, not completely realizing that he’s said something to himself out loud, looking away from his dirt ridden hands to make sure that no one else had been there to notice.

But you had.

You always did. Even when you'd tried not to.

So beautiful, and smiling at him in the last remains of daylight.

Holding a freshly picked bunch of sunflowers in your arms, struggling a bit to hold onto all the stems.

“Here. Let me…”

He begins, brushing the palms of his hands onto the front of his pants, before making his way over to your small patch of land. 

I better help her before she loses them all…

don’t need anyone laughing at her.

no one. laughs. at. her…

“Oh…thank you so much Lars, you didn’t have to do that…”

Taking the flowers from her slightly shaken hands, he carefully begins to place them one by one into one of his garden baskets. Forgetting for a moment that he is no longer Vader, and no longer Anakin, either. That Lars is the only name now that he can go by. However misguided. It’s the only thing salvaged from his old life that he can have again. 

“Yes I did…better in here than on the ground. Don’t you have one of these things?” he says gruffly, focused on the task at hand. 

“I did…”

“What do you mean, you did?”

“Another farmer stole my only basket from me…among other things…they were upset, it was my fault anyway, and…”

“Upset? No matter of disagreement should ever warrant thievery.”

they don’t know the meaning of upset.

stealing from a lady…

really?

“They were angry when I didn’t return their affections. Now he’s trying to sabotage my business. Breaking things, poisoning my rose bushes... Spreading falsehoods about me and my family around the village…”

“Who. Is. He.?”

Anakin pauses deliberately between words, feeling a familiar heat inside himself rising to the surface.

Pointing to a house on the farthest side of town, he recognizes it immediately. 

Right opposite the lake.

The man is no farmer.

He's a vagrant fisherman.

Doing his own stretch of time on this desolate unlikely safe haven.

He must have escaped from someplace...

Avoiding a bounty...perhaps.

She's silent now. Perhaps he's frightened her with all of his wordless brooding.

Or...maybe it had something to do with the tightened closing of his fists.

I'm going to kill him.

“Go home. This will all be settled in the morning.”

“Settled…?”

He nods, having a hard time with being gentle. Trying his best to be reassuring.

But then, she smiles, her shoulders falling - relieved, before taking his hand. A metallic wonder resting in the palm of her own. She wishes that he can feel her, but somehow - strangely, she can almost sense that he does there.

“Thank you. I've been so afraid.”

Anakin hums, nodding in understanding.

If only she knew who was standing before her…

would she be in fear of me too here…?

doesn't matter…

But then...

Completely surprising him, she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Waves of unruly hair, almost getting in the way of it...

Leaving him standing there, contemplating a fight to be had in her honor at sunrise the next morning.

…❤️

a/n - thanks so much for reading ! 💫 I've been inspired to write a story again, & what better way to do it than to get everyone involved in the writing process too 😊 this idea has been swirling around in my mind (& drafts folder) for a while now, so it's been really exciting to see it come back to life in a whole new way. each part of the story will be cross posted to ao3, & will be tagged on tumblr with 'sky lady story time 💌' hope you enjoyed this first installment ! I'm excited to see what you guys want to see happen next 🌼☕📖 xo A

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo recklessly flirting with Choso's little sister at Shibuya

Pairing: Gojo x Choso's sister! reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: After being set in Shibuya to distract and exhaust none other than Satoru Gojo, Choso's little sister soon learns that the rumors about his charm are true.

Warnings: This has no major plot, basically just a fic to tease y'all, Gojo being a smooth operator, furious Choso lol

Tags: @celestair

„You‘re late“

Your sweet voice echoes through the hallway, figure unseen by Satoru Gojo in your hiding spot on the ceiling. Urgh, you’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, the voice of your big brother lingering through your mind.

“Don’t cause trouble, (y/n). I’m serious, we have a mission to fulfill.”

“Yeah, whatever. Working with that idiots won’t bring back our brothers tho.”

“Careful.”

He stepped closer to you, eyes glistering so deadly that you had to swallow.

“Don’t forget why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you forced me to”, you remembered him.

“If Satoru Gojo is half as strong as that guy told us, he’ll kill me. I’m nothing but a bait, you know that right?”

“I won’t let any harm come over you, (y/n). I promise. Also, you have immense powers, just use them. I’ll meet up with you again later.”

One last hug. One last hug before he sent you away.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, I was expecting a larger reception committee to be honest”, he comments dryly.

Your eyes roam over his body in the dark. Rumors were true as it seems, Satoru Gojo is indeed a handsome man for being human. Tall and quite muscular, an undercut to die for and that blindfold that holds the mystery of his powerful orbs. You crane your neck to catch a better glimpse of him. Interesting appearance.

“Be assured that I am more than enough for you.”

With a swift motion, you lower yourself onto the ground, feet landing elegantly right in front of him.

Your breath hitches when your gaze meets his. How is this man so good-looking even though a blindfold covers half of his face? He smells absolutely intoxicating, the way his cocky smile decorates his face makes your heart beat a little faster.

Stop. You shake your head, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. None of this matters. You are here to distract him, to drain him, to lead him to the others. Satoru Gojo is nothing more than a mission you have to fulfill.

“Oh, and you are?”, he questions, putting an arm casually on his hip.

“The villain”, you clarify with a satisfied grin.

“Too bad. You look way too good for being a villain.”

He really wants to play with you, cute. You’ve been walking on this earth long enough to know how men work, especially those like him. Always so sure of themselves, convinced that they can get any woman. Way too easy to manipulate, though.

“Yeah? Let me show you what I’ve got in store, then.”

Blood manipulation makes it easy for you to attack him from a distance over and over again. You aren’t a fool, though. The way your attacks simply bounce off him shows you more than any words could specify how fucking strong the man in front of you is. When using his technique, there’s absolutely no chance for you to win this fight. But still, you promised. You promised Choso to distract and tire Gojo out. The sooner he’s gone, the sooner you can take revenge for the death of your brothers.

“Blood manipulation, huh? Interesting, so you’re a descendant of the Kamo family.”

The amusement that radiates from his voice irritates you. It’s like he isn’t bothered by your powerful technique at all, making fun of you instead of fighting back.

“You know I could just kill you on the spot, right? Why are you here on your own?”

“Maybe to fight you, maybe to seduce you. Who knows?”, you remark, now trying to land a hit on him in close combat.

He grabs your hand faster than you are able to react, making your eyes widen. Fuck, this isn’t good. His radiant touch alone would be enough to kill you on the spot.

“I have to admit, you are a decent jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a semi grade 1. Could make you a grade 1 if you ask nicely.”

Gojo hates to admit it, but it’s way too easy to get lost in your mesmerizing orbs. Are you a curse? No, your skin feels too real and soft for that against his palm. You are human. Maybe reincarnated, but you are human. A striking human, to be exact.

Even though he is very aware of the fact that you are here to distract him from something bigger, he just can’t help but play your little game.

“You know I could make you kneel just by touching you, right?”, you purr, head tilted to the side.

“Oh believe me honey, I could do the same without using any technique.”

For the split of a second you can feel your cheeks heat up, heart pounding hard against your ribcage. What the hell is this strange feeling? You are reincarnated, you aren’t supposed to feel anything. But why…Why does the way he hold your arm so close against his body and the way he smiles down at you send shivers down your spine? You’ve been alive for so damn long, meeting countless men on the way. What makes him so different?

“I know you’re here to distract me. I gotta say that’s pretty rude considering I’m the strongest. Do they want to get rid of you?”

“Maybe I’m a good match and they know that”, you reply with a sweet grin.

“You’re fighting on the wrong side. When this is over, I’ll show you that you’re capable of so much more. With the right motivation, of course”, he hushes.

“Is this an offer?”, you question.

He can tell by the look in your eyes that your mind is racing. To be honest, he isn’t asking exclusively because of your striking powers.

“Absolutely.”

Softly, his touch traces along your arm, up your shoulder, over your back. Gojo’s other hand joins, brushing over your waist. You see stars, it’s like you’ve forgot how to function. Even though it was part of the job many times to wrap a man around your finger, it never really bothered you when they touched you. If you felt something, it was nothing but disgust and anger. But that right now, that isn’t anger or disgust. This is a completely different feeling, foreign in the way it makes your knees weak. No, not even the emotions you hold towards Choso can compare to that.

Is this what attraction feels like?

“You’re dangerous, Satoru Gojo.”

Your voice is as cold and calculating as ever while you feel like dying and flying internally.

“What’s your name?”

“(y/n), can you hear me?”

Fuck. The voice of your brother inside your ear makes you tear away from him in an instant.

“Yeah. What is it”, you mumble.

“So your name is (y/n), huh? What a beautiful name. Fits you perfectly”, Gojo coos behind you.

“Did that guy just flirt with you, (y/n)? Bring him here. Right now”, Choso hisses.

“Sure. Already on the way.”

“You heard him. Get your ass moving”, you instruct the man in front of you while rolling your eyes in annoyance and moving towards the main hall.

“What a bummer, I thought we had more time alone."

“Don’t say that out loud when my brother is here. He’ll kill you right on the spot and I want to have this honor”, you warn him.

The way you walk in front of him with your delicate hips swinging from side to side makes him smile into himself. You’re a feisty woman, not that easy to get, unapproachable at first glance. But oh how you caught his attention. Not only with your immense powers, but also your sharp tongue and striking looks.

“You’re too good looking to be one of the bad guys”, he comments before he can stop yourself.

“And you’re too good looking to fight for the wrong side”, you reply dryly.

“And how do you know I’m on the wrong side and you’re on the right?”

“Because your students killed my brothers without flinching.”

“And the people you are working with killed thousands of innocent humans with countless brothers and sisters still grieving them.”

You turn around slowly, just about to reach the meeting spot you agreed on with Choso.

“I would recommend to not say something like that to my brother”, you hiss.

“Choso, I’m here!”, you announce loudly.

Another figure appears out of the shadow.

“I hope you didn’t hurt her, Satoru Gojo. Otherwise I will have to kill you right on the spot.”

“I guess sneaking up to other people is like a family thing”, he notes.

“Don’t worry, she was really nice company. Made me almost forget that this is a trap.”

“Gojo”, you warn him.

“Watch your mouth”, Choso hisses through gritted teeth.

“Tell me you didn’t flirt with him”, he continues whispering in your ear.

“Oh, I absolutely did”, you reply without thinking twice.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #29

[Continuation of Poll #28]

Hesitantly, you placed your hand into the vampire's, giving them a coy smile. "I don't really know how, though," you mumbled as their elongated fingers wrapped around yours, squeezing tenderly as they rose from their chair.

"I'll show you, don't worry about it."

It wasn't a pull nor a jerk that swept you off your seat, almost like a puff of wind that lifted you up and onto your feet just before you were wrapped in the free arm of the vampire. The distance between you was very little, chests brushing against each other as they guided you back and forth through the room.

"Left foot, right foot, right foot, left," they instructed gently, reminding you ever so often when you seemed to forget the whole choreography again as they twirled you around. It was hard to keep up, and you felt sweat beading on your forehead as you concentrated on making everything right.

"Oh, sorry!" you muttered, scrunching up your face as you stepped on the vampire's foot again. They laughed heartily at your struggles, seemingly paying them no mind. It was surprising how quickly you still picked up the steps, letting yourself be led over the creaking floorboards and actually bringing a smile to your face.

Despite this night being anything but pleasant, you enjoyed the time you two shared dancing, the vampire teaching you more steps as your mingling lasted. You were both grinning, enjoying your time together, and feeling closer to them, knowing now why they liked dancing so much. It was easy with them; it felt light.

As if your legs were leaves twirling in the wind, their hands warming up against your body as if they were human. Their laughter was so genuine it was contagious, and the room no longer seemed like a prison as you two used every inch of it for your dance. Just for a while, it felt right, even good. Not scary, not dreadful, not even as the vampire dipped you at the end of your very long dancing session, hovering over you as they bent you backward, your breath rebounding from their lifeless lips.

Reminding you of the danger you were in.

With your body tensing in their arms, the vampire's brows furrowed before they immediately helped you up into a proper stand again, sensing your discomfort. Their joyous expression shifted quickly, back into stern and discouraged, but they forced a smile on their lips regardless as they looked at you, despite you reading them like an open book now.

It was disappointment.

About what, you weren't sure. The end of the dance? Your body's instinctual response to them? The knowledge that there could never be something coming close to trust between you two? Or that they didn't get to drink your blood, after all?

They bowed down, resting their cold lips briefly on the knuckles of your hand. Their hand had lingered, but even that began to slip now that the trance of merriness was broken, and for some reason, it made your gut wrench unpleasantly.

"Thank you," they said, but their voice was much more grounded, less overdramatic and boisterous than how they had spoken before. "It was a great pleasure to dance again."

"Y-Yes," you stuttered, unsure how to respond to it. "I had fun, too."

A breath seemed to hitch in their chest as they collected themselves, courage straightening their back and looking right at you as their mouth opened.

"If you'd like, we could—"

"Stop right there!"

With a loud bang that made you jump, the door flung open, neither of you having noticed the heavy footsteps of the werewolf approaching as you had been enthralled in the moment. His fur was soaked in a dark, sticky substance; even you knew it must have been blood dripping from his claws. He really looked like a monster—even more so than before.

"Don't get any closer than that, bloodsucker! I knew you'd try something!" the werewolf angrily growled, and the vampire turned their back towards you, holding out an arm, shielding you from the stalking beast. "They're not yours! You don't get to keep them all to yourself!"

"No, we were-- It's really not..." you tried to defend the vampire and yourself as you watched from behind the vampire as the werewolf bared his teeth, every muscle straining as he seemed ready to pounce.

"So it's come to this," the vampire sighed, shaking their head. "I was just trying to have a good time with our darling human, and yet, it seems like all you can do is aggravate and be an animal. I don't think this truce is really working out."

"Apparently not," the werewolf agreed, snapping his fangs toward the vampire.

That wasn't what you expected to happen at all! They seemed to somehow manage to share you, their averted attention having been your safety net so far. If one of them were to lose their battle for dominance, what would happen to you in the aftermath?

Even though being with the vampire seemed less safe than with the werewolf, they had still proven they could be civil, perhaps even reasonable. But at the same time, your death seemed inevitable if you stayed with them, even if the time until then could possibly be nicer than the werewolf made it out to be. You two had grown a bit closer, albeit with reservations on your part, but learning about them and they about you made them less frightening and more human than you thought them to be.

With the werewolf, on the other hand, you had a feeling your chances to escape and survive were bigger. But were you just disillusioning yourself? Would the potential trauma that the vampire insisted would follow if the werewolf got to claim you, be manageable? Would you even be able to escape with his heightened senses? You didn't know enough about what the werewolf was planning and what he was like to judge him, but that made you even more anxious around him.

A fight seemed inevitable, but there was still something you could do. If you timed it right, called out to one of them, and distracted them long enough so the other monster could take them down, you could influence who to stay with until you could try to escape. There had never been an ideal choice, both of them caring a bit too much for you—regardless if they saw you as a food source or a mate—even though they didn't know you. Distracting them would seal one of their fates, but for your slightest chance of survival, it seemed like you had to make this choice.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine agreeing to marry Namor to bring peace between Wakanda and Talokan

Warning: Spoliers for Black Panther Wakanda Forever

"Your people would never accept an outsider as their queen." You scoffed moving your face away from his hand.

"You're the only human on the surface world who can visit Talokan without the confinement of a suit. Your power is truly limitless my people would see you as a Goddess. The same way they see me as a God, and they would happily bow down before you" Namor declared.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion trying to figure out just how much he knew about your abilities. You'd only gone out into the ocean once to test the limits of your water manipulation. It turns out you were able to breathe underwater, and your body could withstand the pressure of the ocean. Namor must have been near the beach that day. Just how long had he been watching you?

"Princess you have to understand your power truly captivated me when I first witnessed it. A human able to become one with nature there must be a reason. The heavens above picked you to wield such power you belong on a throne." Namor said as if he could read your mind.

"My mother would never let you take me away from her" You tried again.

"You are not a child and can make your own decisions. I have no intention of forcing you to join me in Talokan, but if you choose to come with me willingly. What can she do?"

"We don't know or love with each other" You pointed out. That was the last argument you had under your belt.

Namor shook his head "kings and queens hardly marry out of love. The greatest of them tend to marry for power."

"I have plenty of power Namor."

He gently took you by chin bringing your face back to his. "Mi amour we can always learn how to love each other."

Your eyes locked onto his searching for any sign of deception, but there was none. His expression softened as your breath hitched, and you brought a hand to his. "Let me show my kingdom y/n please" he offered. Namor got to his feet and started walking back into the water. He paused once he waist deep to turn back to you holding out his hand.

"No games?" You questioned with a frown.

"No games" he promised beckoning for you to come to him. You glanced back in the direction of your jet. Queen Romanda would be able to track it, and she would if you didn't return home soon. It was a miracle you were able to sneak out in the first place. If it wasn't for the Dora Milaje being in the Council meeting along with all the other guards. Your absence would’ve been brought to light, and you weren't sure of how much time you had left. This was only supposed to be civil discussion to try and reach a peaceful agreement with him. Now its an involved into a marriage proposal and a journey to an underwater kingdom.

"Princess y/n" Namor called out to you softly.

You turned back to him still standing with his hand outstretched. "We need to be quick. My people will come looking for me soon."

Namor nodded his mouth moving upward into a giant grin when you stood up and made your way to him. The second your hand was in his he pulled your body to his. It was kind of hard to really get a good grip on him without wrapping both of your arms around his waist. Because his body was slick with water he secured a firm hold on your waist as well. "Hold on tight princess, and no matter what don't let go into we're in Talokan." Those were his final words before he let himself sink into the ocean taking you with him.

Talokan was unmatched in beauty and wonder even though you had no intention on accepting his proposal. You wouldn't have minded spending sometime down there to truly explore the city. The underwater sun brought tears to your eyes. When you turned to him there was genuine smile on his face. At the end of the day Namor loved his people and truly just wanted to protect his home. But unfortunately you were on a strict time limit, and before you knew it. The adventure was over and Namor had returned to beach.

"Now that you have seen Talokan with your own eyes maybe you will change your mind. It can be your home to princess." He said before officially parting ways with you.

You returned to Wakanda immediately after that and spoke of the offer to no one. If your mother found out what happened, and that he wanted your hand in marriage. She would panic leading to you being whisked away in hiding.

But soon enough you would wish that you had accepted his offer that night on the beach.

Two Days Later

One bad decision led to another and now things were getting out of hand. When it came to your knowledge that Namor's army had ambushed Okoye and Shuri in America, while they were in the middle of. Retrieving the scientist who turned out to just be a nineteen year-old girl in college. You wasted no time in finding your mother to plead your case. You wanted to go with Nakia on her mission to save Shuri and Riri, only you proposed that they leave you behind.

"You expect me to let you surrender yourself to a man who threatened my entire country and my life". She snapped at you her eyes filled with hurt and fear. Your mother truly didn't understand why you trusted Namor so much. In honesty you didn't but you knew if you took Shuri's place. Then it would be easier to keep him calm.

Queen Romanda had you sent to your room where she ordered the Dora Milaje to keep you. Until they got word from her that you could be free again, and for the first time in your life. You truly knew what it was like to be grounded. You didn't get the chance to escape until Namor invaded Wakanda, and by then the damage was done. You left the palace to provide aide to your people as the water rose up within the city. For the first time the people of Wakanda witnessed your powers as you used them to free them from the water. Namor was so focused on the battle at hand. He flew right past you as you brought a family to safety. He moved like a bullet through the sky making sharp spin moves to bring down the aircrafts. It was then you realized he had a specific destination in mind. The memory his promise to take your mother's life hit you like a ton of bricks, and you made your way back to the palace.

"Namor no" You shouted a few feet away from him held up in the air by a floating boulder.

But it was too late Namor threw a hand full of water grenades at the crack in the window. The entire front of the palace exploded as the water grenades went off knocking your mother and the girl back. You directed your boulder over to him slamming a fist into his left cheek. His head snapped to the side from the impact, but the punch didn't faze him the slightest. He turned his head back to you fury in his eyes matching your own. "I warned her and you of what would happen. My original offer still stands if you truly want to put an end to this."

"How could you think that I would even want to look at you again after what you just did" You sneered at him.

Namor leaned his head down to put his mouth to your ear. "It isn't over for her yet you can still save her princess."

You whirled around to a tragic scene of Akena holding Shuri back while Okoye and Nakia attempted to resuscitate your mother, and the young girl. Riri came to first coughing up water as Nakia rolled her over to her side. But your mother was still unconscious You lowered the boulder and leapt into the palace. You ran over dropping down to. your knees before your mother. Your hands shoving Okoye away without a word as you felt for the water in her lungs. Once you locked onto it everyone watched in awe and surprise as you bended it out of her. Queen Romanda's eyes shot open as she attempted to cough up the water, but it was gone. Her eyes looked around frantically until finally they settled on you.

Tears builded up in your eyes as your head dropped to her stomach. Shuri had broke free from Akena and M'Baku somehow to come over and join you.

"Princess y/n how did you?" Nakia said leaving the question to hang in the air.

"Fishman you would be wise to leave now" M'Baku shouted pointing his staff at. Namor who was still hovering right outside of the palace observing all of you.

Queen Romanda pushed herself up into a sitting position with Shuri supporting her from behind. Her eyes found Namor and you never seen your mother so furious. He attempted to take her life, and almost succeeded. Not to mention his attack did lead to the death of some of your people. She wouldn't be able to overlook all of that. His actions would be considered an act of war.

Unless.

You climbed back to your feet to slowly walk over to the opening where the windows use to be. M'Baku shouted for you to stop as Namor flew over to meet you.

"Princess y/n" Okoye cried taking a few steps forward.

You positioned your body sideways holding out a hand towards all of them. A gust of wind was summoned to keep them at bay. By now Namor was standing only a few inches away from you half a step forward would close the distance.

"If I accept your offer you must agree to my terms" You told your voice just a whisper. No one else could hear the exchange.

He simply gave you a nod.

"You will never attack or step foot in Wakanda again unless you are summoned here."

A nod.

"You will allow me to return home at least three months out of the year."

Another nod.

"You will not sneak out a war with the surface world unless they attack you first. Which they won't because Wakanda will keep your secret and protect you from discovery."

Namor didn't seem to happy about that one, but nevertheless he gave you a nod after three long seconds. At that you nodded at him in return "I will accept your proposal for marriage."

Namor smiled as the room erupted into a series of gasps and protests. Queen Romanda was on her feet in seconds storming over to yank you behind her. "You will do no such thing y/n" she insisted before turning to Namor. "My daughter will be going nowhere with you."

"It's not your choice Queen and if you try to keep my wife away from me-" He started to threaten but a light jolt of electricity had him hissing in pain, and backing away. His eyes found yours as you glared at him.

"No more threats Namor" You demanded.

He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Bury your dead. Mourn your loss. Say your goodbyes. I will return for her at dawn if she's not at our usual spot waiting for me. I will come here for her." With those words he shot off like a bullet disappearing into the water.

Your mother whirled around to face you with betrayal in her eyes. "Usual spot?"

"There's a beach I would go to with T'Challa to practice control over my powers before he died. He was the only one who knew what I could do after his death. I went back to feel connected to him, and apparently Namor use to watch me from the water or sky. I didn't know until a couple of days ago" You explained to her.

"I will not permit you to marry him" She demanded.

"Mother its the only way to prevent a war between our two kingdoms and you know it" You insisted.

"Dear sister please don't do this" Shuri pleaded wrapping her arms around you from behind. Her face buried into the back of your neck.

You could feel her tears bringing a hand up to squeeze her arm. "If anyone in this room has a better idea, I would love to hear it."

No one spoke up.

"My daughter" Queen Romanda whispered taking your face in both of her hands. She leaned down pressing her forehead to yours.

"I have to do this mom this is for Wakanda, and maybe one day I can learn to love him" You whispered.

There was just silence as her arms wrapped took place where they could. You stood there embraced by your mother and sister for the longest just relishing in their love. Knowing that by nightfall you would be in a new home.

Talokan.

[colourstreakgryffin]

asks are open!😘 How would L lawliet react with a shy I mean very shy girlfriend shes short about 5'2. And recently joined the task force to help her boyfriend

💕L💕

Omllll yeeessss! Another Death Note request! Let’s go, I like L too and I was waiting for him! Let’s do it!

Lawliet L

L was very against you trying to join the Task Force. This is definitely the most dangerous case in human history and you’re the last person he wants to risk to try solve it. He doesn’t care to risk his own life, but not yours

When L loves something or someone, it’s permanent and it’s strong, he was very against Watari joining, but he knows he needs Watari and the older man is not as included. L is a stubborn man and he won’t fold to your persistence

How did you manage to get onto the Task Force? L had no choice but to let you join, Light already seen you and his hands were tied by the members thinking a new Detective has joined. He couldn’t fly you out since it’d draw far too much suspicion. For the first time ever, the world’s best detective was stunned as he had to agree on terms he didn’t make

L supposes he doesn’t really mind having you around, it’s bad but not as bad. You’re intelligent, your skilled and you know how to handle yourself. Though, he isn’t a fan of you being apart of the Kira case for obvious reasons

Repeat it, L loves short girls so his significant other being shorter than him is like his actual dream. They are cuddle-sized and easy to keep track off. Even with how hunched he is, L is still packing quite the height and he towers you so suspect him to rest his chin on your head

“Aaah~ my favourite pillow has arrived. I am aware that I’m using your head as a headrest, you’re a suitable ‘small bean’ for the task. Why yes, I do remember what people your height are called and I’m called a ‘beanstalk’”

L is not a teaser about height, he’s a helper. You’re struggling to reach something high, he’ll get it for you. He will analyse the situation and suggest using a step next-time but at the end of the situation, he’ll help in anyway he can

L is a introvert so he understands your overall timidity. If you don’t want to be around the others, he will set up a private room for you that none of the members can access, including him if wanted. He has the money and power to do whatever the fuck he wants, and he is the spoiling type of boyfriend

Yes, I mean that L would send you money if you need it, he will rush around the headquarters to find your favourite blanket, he’s out the door the moment you mention a milkshake you’re carving. He will do stuff for you since you do so much for him, by merely being apart of his life and changing from him a glorified machine to a real human

The way you shyly approach him and Light to hand over the documentation files Watari gave to you whilst he was baking, is just so cute. Internal L is laying on the floor joyous at how adorable you behave, whilst external is politely thanking you

L isn’t built with any muscles(besides dem legs for real) but he isn’t above being protective over you, because he is. Light scared you with that one time he impersonated Kira to a horrifyingly good degree, L is gonna calmly argue with him then get into a fight

“Light. Could you please silence your strangely accurate impersonation of Kira. You’re frightening Dokusha— Hm? What reason do I have to ask of such a request? Well. She’s my partner in business and in life, she is important. Don’t do anything like that again”

L is slowly growing accustom to affection, please give him a break if he doesn’t respond or give it back. He does like it, he just isn’t trained nor knowledgeable enough in couple things. He puts research on those topics into his list so he can do better for you

Though, nobody else can do these things with L. Hold his hand, brush his hair, hug him. Nothing like that is allowed for anybody besides you and well to a degree, Watari but that’s different. You are always allowed in his private research room, most of the time, he wants you there besides him as he works

A cute weird thing L lets you do is latch onto his back. He does have a BAD back from the ten+ years of hunching but he loves feeling you clung onto him like a Koala. You are too shy to do it around the members but that won’t stop L from throwing you onto his back himself. He misses it

L keeps track of everything you like, do and more. He basically has a encyclopaedia of you and can recall every little detail. To him, knowing you like the process of scrubbing through hours worth of camera footage, is important as it shows how devoted he is to you

So tell him everything. He won’t forget any piece of info and he’ll write it down later as a needed backup, like he does for everything else non-Dokusha related. There’s two parts of his mind; Detective and Dokusha. He likes the Dokusha section a lot more

L is very loyal. Do you think he has anybody else waiting? Most women call him a freak for his looks and/or behaviour. You’re his one and only, he can’t throw you away, he just wants you sat besides him all the time. Where he can turn around and know you’re still with him

L shares his sweets with you more, as compared to somebody like Light, and you know he’ll get Watari to deliver whatever you want, whilst the other members get only what L requests for them. You are treated specially and he could care less that it makes him seem favouritistic, he is

L has a habit of mimicking you, kinda like a child. He follows you since your word is a lot more trustworthy. When you eat vegetables and meats with a smiley reaction, he is eating it too whilst waiting for your praise (Watari would struggle here, and he is a bit frustrated that his son listens to his gf, not his father

“Good morning— hm? I seem frustrated. Well… I am. Why is that? Don’t pretend like you don’t know the answer to that question, Dokusha. Yes, yes. I understand you fully. You don’t want me to die but this is my profession, and you shouldn’t be apart of this case. It’s too dangerous, you know how intense my feelings for you are”

[nephalem-da]

Hiiii the request you wrote (sarcastically yours) was so cute and I really loved the gender neutral non description of the reader like somebody else pointed out in the comments too.

I have another idea/request if you happen to be up for it.

Bill x gn!reader who is touch starved and had a terrible week. When Bill pops up to cause trouble they just snag him from mid air and trap him a hug as they lay down to cuddle him if he wanted to or not.

Over all mood can be kind of reader being tired and not taking shit or giving any fucks while he quirms in their hold, complaining and threatening them dramatically because how dare they just cuddle him? And why does he feel strangely cozy?

Anyway, thanks again for bringing the first request to life <3

Have a lovely day!!!

Caught In A Hug

(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Enjoy!

Genre: Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warning: Emotional exhaustion, Bill's chaotic behavior (mentions of bugs, fire, etc.), Light angst, fluffy ending.

Summary: After a rough week, you're too tired to deal with Bill Cipher's antics. When he appears, you pull him into an unexpected cuddle, ignoring his dramatic protests.

After an exhausting week, all you wanted was some peace, but of course, Bill Cipher had other plans. The chaotic dream demon had been popping in unannounced, causing trouble like always. But tonight, you were done. When he appeared mid-air, ready to start his usual antics, you didn’t hesitate. Reaching up, you snagged him from the air, pulling him into a firm embrace as you collapsed onto the couch.

“What the—HEY! What do you think you’re doing?” Bill’s voice was loud, his single eye widening in surprise as he flailed in your arms. “Let go of me, fleshbag! I’m the all-powerful Bill Cipher! You think you can just—HEY!”

You ignored his dramatic outburst, too tired to care about the dream demon's protests. Your arms tightened around his floating form as you sighed, settling deeper into the cushions. “Not today, Bill. I’ve had a really crappy week, and I just need this. You can complain all you want, but you’re not going anywhere.”

His yellow, triangular body squirmed against you, and his eye darted around, probably plotting some chaotic retaliation. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this! I’ll make bugs crawl out of your cereal! I’ll—ACK! Hey, are you even listening?!”

“Nope,” you muttered, eyes already half-closed as you buried your face into his smooth form, not bothering to think about how weird it was to be cuddling a literal demon triangle. “You’re warm. Kinda cozy too.”

Bill sputtered. “Cozy? ME? You’ve got some nerve! I’m a nightmare, a terror, an all-knowing force of the universe! And you—you—let go right now, or I’ll—” His threats trailed off as you shifted slightly, adjusting your grip to pull him closer.

He wriggled, floating slightly above you but still locked tight in your hug. “You really have no idea who you’re messing with, do ya? This is gonna end badly for you, I swear—Hey, stop nuzzling me! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Bill,” you grumbled, barely opening your eyes. “I’m too tired for your drama. Just… be quiet for a bit. I’m not letting go.”

There was a pause. You felt him stiffen, probably trying to figure out how to react to the situation. You couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed, confused, or horrified that you dared to trap him in such a mundane, human gesture.

“This is so beneath me,” he grumbled under his breath, though his voice had lost some of its earlier venom. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. Normally, I’d make you regret this for eternity.”

You snorted softly, tightening your hold slightly. “Sure, Bill. Whatever you say.”

The room was quiet for a while after that. You could still feel Bill’s occasional squirm as if he couldn’t decide whether to break free or not. His eye darted around, and you could tell he was struggling with the situation—partly because it was so mundane, and partly because… well, he wasn’t used to this. Who would hug a literal chaotic being?

Bill’s grumbling gradually faded into silence, and you felt him settle in your arms. Despite his earlier protests, he wasn’t putting in much effort to escape anymore. It was almost as if he was… relaxing?

You could feel his energy pulsing slightly against you, warm and oddly comforting. It was bizarre, really—cuddling Bill Cipher of all beings. But right now, with how drained you felt from the week, it was exactly what you needed.

A while passed before Bill spoke again, his tone a little quieter and far less aggressive than before. “This doesn’t mean anything, got it? Don’t go thinking I’ve gone soft or anything.”

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, too close to sleep to argue. “Sure.”

“And I’m only letting this happen because you’re clearly too weak to handle my usual brilliance,” he continued, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “But just wait. I’ll make you regret it. I’ll turn all your furniture upside down, make your mirrors talk back—maybe even—”

You interrupted him by shifting slightly, pulling him even closer. Bill went silent, his body tense in your arms again as if he wasn’t sure how to react. After a few beats, he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You’re impossible.���

Despite his words, Bill didn’t move. In fact, he moved a bit closer, his usual chaotic energy now strangely subdued. For someone who thrived on chaos and destruction, being held like this clearly wasn’t something he understood—or was used to. And yet, he didn’t pull away.

The longer the silence stretched, the more you noticed a subtle shift in Bill’s attitude. His squirming had stopped, and while he still made the occasional sarcastic comment, his usual snark had softened into something more… tentative.

“Alright, fine,” he muttered at last. “But don’t think this is a regular thing. This is a one-time deal, got it? You try this again, and I’ll—”

“Mmhm,” you repeated, your voice sleepy. “Whatever you say, Bill.”

Bill grumbled something unintelligible, but his protests were far less forceful now. His body felt warm and secure in your arms, and despite all his complaints, he hadn’t made any real effort to escape.

As your breathing slowed, you couldn’t help but notice a strange, unfamiliar comfort in his presence. Bill Cipher, the all-powerful, terrifying demon, was somehow… calming? Cozy, even.

And though he’d never admit it, you had a feeling he didn’t hate this as much as he was pretending to.

“You’re still going to regret this,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now, almost tired.

“Sure, Bill,” you whispered, finally drifting off to sleep, still holding him close. “Whatever you say.”

And for once, Bill Cipher didn’t argue back.

[killerpancakeburger]

Dating Soap HCS: (Combatant!Reader)

A/N: Shoving in there all the thoughts I've had about him and couldn't squeeze into my current fic ideas.

When I say Combatant!Reader, I mean they can fight/kill/use a gun but aren't part of the Task Force nor a soldier.

SFW:

Two words: power couple. You guys could take on the world if you wanted, so good for the world that you’re part of the good guys.

Soap is one of those freaks who’s out of bed by 6 a.m on his days off and starts the day with a jog. He can’t help it, he’s got energy to spare and is addicted to the endorphin he gets from it. Before meeting him you’d have said that a partner up so early was a pain; but how could you be mad at him when he takes such care to not wake you up, and has coffee and a mouth-watering breakfast ready when you emerge? You enter the kitchen where he rewards you with the luscious view of his sculpted body covered in sweat, having already shed his shirt, then sneaks an arm around your shoulders to press an adoring kiss against your temple, along with a “G’morning, Bonnie.” before heading to the shower.

Sometimes you show up unannounced on base - well not completely unannounced cause you’d get shot -, barge into the sparring room like you own the place - and considering the company you keep, you might as well -, and hit all its occupants with a “What’s up losers?”. Before anyone else can react, Soap’s already leaping over the ring’s ropes and running to you, hugging you with so much enthusiasm that your feet leave the ground. “Ye didnae say ye were comin’!” His voice booms with unadulterated joy. “Yeah, that’s called a surprise MacTavish. Now let go of me, you stink.” He throws you a cocky, challenging smirk at that: “Make me.” His voice is way lower, intended for your ears only this time. The glint in his eyes, as he’s staring right into yours, is just as provocative as his smile. You retort with your own. “I could, but I would hate to humiliate you in front of the new recruits, Sergeant.” Cue Ghost, joining you by walking like a civilised human being, and already sick of your flirting. “If you two are done makin’ a spectacle of yourselves, we could have a smoke outside.” There’s no real heat to his words though.

During some evenings at the base when Ghost snuck up God only knows where, Soap, Gaz and you compete to see who can do the best impression of the Lieutenant. Soap’s in the lead with the advantage to be the one having exchanged the most words with Simon, but you’re confident you can turn it around.

Will touch you all the fucking time (except on missions), whether it’s an arm around your shoulder, or your waist, or a hand in the back pocket of your pants, or holding your hand. Will restrain himself if you’re against it but if he can’t cuddle in private he will be sad.

No PDA on missions, but he will definitely flirt over coms. You’re both skilled enough that you can afford to fuck around a bit while still doing your job expertly.

Talking about flirting, he is smooth… until the other person reciprocates. Then he needs a moment to get back in the saddle after short-circuiting. 

Fervently loyal. If someone comes onto him, he will reject them frankly. And if they dare to bad-mouth you, they’re getting an earful from him.

The rare fights you have are intense but brief. He always wants to apologise as soon as possible afterwards but he gives you your space if you need it. 

You patch each other up after missions. One day you pore over each other’s scars during a lazy morning in bed, asking how the other got them.

He loooves seeing you put assholes in their place. He’s so fucking proud and aroused. Tend to snap at them faster than you though. And if you’re not in the mood to fight, he will gladly take over. “You know I can fight. Pleaaase let me fight”

Your #1 supporter. Will Smith showing off his wife.meme. He admires you a lot. Not as much as Ghost, sure, but that’s still a lot. If you wanna try new things, especially thrills inducing ones like canyoning or bungee jumping, or push back your own limits in the gym or in combat prowess, he’s always down and so, so enthusiastic. First because he’s so thrilled to share these with you, and second because he relishes in seeing you become a better version of yourself and/or the person you wanna be.

He’s proud of his job and will rant about it for hours if you ask about it. Especially explosions. Your idea of a romantic evening is taking in the sunset with a couple of explosions fireworks. 

He’s a freaking sunshine and sometimes the light feels blinding. You worry you’re bringing him down. He has such an optimistic outlook on life, and you… simply don’t. You also fear that one day he realises he’s too good for you, whether it’s in terms of looks, personality, morals, or mental resilience… he’s always quick to appease your worries though. 

Not getting along with the TF would be a deal breaker. Not that he’s expecting you to become BFF with Ghost or anything, that role is already taken by him

Will not hesitate to use his sad puppy eyes on you. Or even pout. To get what he wants.

He demands a kiss for good luck before every mission, a bit lOUDLY, which makes Ghost rolls his eyes and Gaz makes gagging sounds. Price is just like "Lord Give Me Patience".

NSFW:

Don’t be afraid to (wo)manhandle him: pulling his hair, slamming him against a wall, grabbing his jaw… that will make him moan more often than not. 

Call him a good/pretty boy, praise him, tease him, make him beg… He will tease back to challenge you but it just means you should keep going.

He’s a good soldier, he follows orders well. Do with that what you will.

Endless stamina. Will wear you out first every time.

Gets off when he gets you off.

Did I mention that he’s terribly competitive? Will ask you what’s the highest number of orgasms you had in one night and will immediately try to beat that record. 

If he doesn't make you laugh at least once during the do, he has FailedTM 😔