#the ghoul drabble

[theewritingroomm]

A Wasteland Reunion

Summary: It's been more than 200 years since you've last seen your cowboy. Pairing: Cooper Howard x Reader Word Count: 1,070 (a drabble? what's that?) Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, A/N: Part of The Cowboy & The Movie Star series, a part 2 if you will. Let me know what y'all would like to see from this series. What snapshots would y'all like to see?

I do NOT consent to my work being translated or published onto third party sites - including AO3 and Wattpad.

A layer of dirt and grime covered every surface of the Red Rocket Gas Station. Outside the sun blazed down, covering the Wasteland in a blazing heat. The wind gave an occasional whistle as it blew more dirt into the gas station’s broken windows. Though you were paying attention to none of that, you were focused on the sound that should not be there. 

The thumping of heavy footsteps on broken concrete. 

So with your back against the checkout counter you reload your gun and cussed Ma June. If this ‘simple favor’ didn’t kill you, you were going to ring the older lady’s neck. 

As the heavy steps get closer your finger tightens around the trigger of your gun. The old bell chimes above the door and heavy footfalls turn into light steps as the newest customer to the Red Rocket navigates around the debris littering the floor. The footsteps grow quieter as the person heads towards the other end of the gas station. 

Taking the opportunity, you slowly crawl towards the open door a few feet to your right. The manager’s office was threadbare, a simple desk and chair sat in the middle of the room with a few filing cabinets sitting behind the desk. It did not offer many hiding places, however you had no interest in hiding. You were interested in getting the piece of tech Ma June was searching for and getting the hell out of the Red Rocket. 

After waiting a moment, with bated breath for the sound of footsteps to draw closer. You were surprised when they never did, coming to the conclusion that the person must have left. Likely abandoning their search when they came up empty handed. Not that you minded, The less people here, the less bullets you would have to use to make it back to Filly. 

Pushing the other person from your mind, you began going through the drawers of the desk. Where you found a handful of plastic forks, a loose cigarette and four caps. With another glance to the open door and a pause to listen for steps, you turned your attention to the filing cabinets behind you. 

The first cabinet was a bust, holding nothing but trash. You had moved onto the second cabinet, only starting to pull the first drawer out when the hairs on the back of your neck rose and a pit of dread opened in your stomach. Before you could turn to inspect, the hammer of a pistol was pulled back. The click echoed off the walls of the dusty gas station. 

“My, my,” A low voice drawled out behind you. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ all alone out here?” 

The voice was low, gravely, distinctly a man’s voice. It trickled down your spine like ice water, setting off every nerve ending within you. But deep down, there was a familiarity in the voice. A familiarity that had your heart tightening in your chest. 

“Just surviving,” you replied., hand tightening around your own pistol. “Wasteland’s a rough place.” 

You tried to keep your voice level, not wanting to give away any of your intentions or give the stranger a reason to pull his trigger. At this point you were ready to call this mission a bust, sure that the tech Ma June was after was not worth your life. 

“Stand up, leave your gun on the ground” the man demanded, leaving no room for arguments. 

Complying with the man, you left your gun in the dirt and stood. Muscles aching and protesting from being squatted for so long. Once fully stood you began to turn around. Wanting to see the man who was likely going to shoot you down. 

The man, no, the ghoul in front of you was menacing from looks alone. A long, leather trench coat covered the rest of his outfit, an ammo belt stretched across his chest, and a weathered cowboy hat was pulled low on his head. A sneer stretched his lips across yellowing teeth and fire burned in deep brown eyes. 

As you locked eyes with the Ghoul a weight of emotions crashed into your chest. If silence hadn’t consumed the gas station you would have thought he shot you.

“Cooper?” The name fell from your lips before you could stop it. 

The sound bubbled in the space between the two of you. Growing with the tension in the room before popping with a deep growl from the man. 

Quicker than you could realize, he was on you. A heavy arm pushing against your throat as he slammed you against the hard metal cabinets behind you. A handle dug harshly into your hip, surly going to leave a bruise. However, you could not find it in you to care. Not when Cooper Howard was standing before you two hundred years after you had seen him last. Two hundred years after you were sure he had died.  

“How do you fuckin; know that name?” He growled, pushing his forearm harder against your throat.

“Coop, please,” You coughed out, struggling to breath past the pressure Cooper was putting on your neck. “It’s me.”

His eyes darkened, a predator staring down at you. “Bullshit.” 

The arm not holding you to the cabinets began to raise, The metal of his gun was cold as he placed it to your temple. 

“I’m only gonna ask one more time.” He pulled the hammer back with a sickening click. “How do you know that name and why are you wearing her fuckin’ face?” 

He was nearly shouting at the end of his question. Fury beginning to take over his composure. 

Knowing you only had one more chance to prove to Cooper that you were standing in front of him, you dug into your memories with Cooper. Going back to a place you had long wished to go back to.

“I told you I loved you for the first time the day the bombs dropped,” you choked around the words, “I had a meeting at the studio and you were getting ready for a birthday party. We were standing in the driveway and you were wearing that damn cowboy getup, but I couldn’t wait anymore so I blurted it out.” 

The fire in his eyes diminished as another emotion took over. With a small sigh, your name escaped his lips in a whisper. Like a prayer he had long since forgotten.

[teastainedprose]

🔞Gash (Cooper Howard / The Ghoul x Reader)

You've been stabbed and The Ghoul means to patch you up, save for the problem of a metal shard lost in the wound. 1,435 words | This is smut if wound fingering counts. All about pain and looking at Cooper's stupid pretty face and PAIN and Cooper's finger in an open wound, pet names, wound cleaning, blood, more pain. No proofreading, take it raw bb. I blame @ghoulphile for egging me on. [A03]

Luck was with the man who managed to sheath his knife into your gut. Luck protected you as he missed puncturing anything important, only slicing meat and fat. Luck would have Cooper right there moments later putting a bullet through the bastard's brains as his luck promptly ran out. Lucky to have the old ghoul catch you before you crumpled to the ground.

Lady Luck was having a fucking field day. That bitch.

Your thoughts swirl, snagging on the present. You're trying to keep your mind set off to the side, away from your body. Away from the burning wet pain of your seeping wound, but it tugs you right back. Your body demands that you feel this, the gaping wound in your gut a wrongness your breakable mortal form insists you can't ignore.

Blood leaks down your hip as you groan from the press of Cooper's fingers around the gaping flesh of the gash in your side to take proper stock of it. Beside you on the table rests the knife you'd been stabbed with, save for the tip. That's currently buried in your guts. The blade is a rusty thing, old and brittle. The thought of that extra bit of metal swimming about inside you sits ill. Your vision blurs, a queasiness rolling over as your head rolls to the side.

Cooper notices your far away gaze, pausing in his inspection to clasp your chin in his glove covered fingers. The ones that are thankfully not covered in your blood. The other hand prodding at your flesh has bare fingers, calloused texture a distant pleasantry. He'd yanked that glove off with his teeth. Skin to bloody skin now. How intimate. 

"Now, dove." The words are a soft puff of breath against your cheek as you refocus. "Keep them pretty eyes open for me now." His attention shifts back to your wound while do as commanded.

"Stuck you real good, girlie." Cooper murmurs, eyes hooded from your inspection at this angle. He continues to mind your wound, bare fingers tracing your abdomen as if to feel from the outside where the rusty intrusion is. "Gonna hav'ta clean it proper. Needin' to dig the tip out."

All you can do is nod absently, drinking in every detail of his face. His black-as-night lashes are clearly visible this close, looking as pretty as can be. They add extra shadow to the sunken hollow about his eyes. He glances up, the swirling deep forest green and brown of his gaze catching you. You suck in a breath as Cooper's nail catches on the cut.

Teeth snap shut with a click as you bare them at Cooper. He smirks right back at you. He knows it hurts, but there's no helping it. All you can do is grimace and bear it while trying to divert your attention from the throbbing in your abdomen.

Your study of him is your current distraction. It's working well enough, mind content to catalogue the sharp lines of his face as you sit there panting quietly. There's the detached burn of alcohol as he dabs your wound with a soaked cloth, pulling a shiver across your skin in response.

Focus. Focus on the face of The Ghoul intently working. How there's the rough texture of his ravaged skin before your eyes. His skin is rusty in color, an earthy shade. It reminds you of the red clay from your long-abandoned home. His skin is just as baked and cracked as that dirt was. A delicious contrast to the richer red of his lips. Funny how he looks all sorts of dried up, but you know those lips to be softer than expected. Soft and pliant when pressed against your own with the wet press of his tongue darting out and-

You curse as your thoughts shatter into sharp glass, body instinctively lurching away from what hurts you. Cooper snatches your thigh, fingers digging in as he holds you steady.

"Now, now. Easy there, dove." His eyes flick to your face again. He's got a finger crooked into the gash. It feels wrong. "Told you I need to get that piece out. Breath, nice and easy."

You inhale. His head cants to the side as he waits. You exhale. Cooper nods as his finger digs deeper into the wound, feeling about. You swear he just brushed viscera with a fingertip.

It makes you dizzy, feeling his finger rooting around in the open wound as he tries to nudge out the knife bit. Forceps would have been a good idea, maybe some pliers? Something thinner than Cooper's gnarled fingers. You've memorized those digits intimately, but never expected to know them here. In your fucking guts.

It hurts. Of course it fucking does, but it's a wrong sort of pain. The sensation keeps flipping your stomach over and over. You want to empty the contents of it, but know that'll hurt worse with the state you're in.  Your eyes lose focus as Cooper clicks his tongue. 

"Focus. Eyes on me like I said, darlin'." He waits a beat as you blink, refocus. "Attagirl," his tone is even and coaxing, trying to keep you calm as if you're a startled brahmin. His finger continues to root around in your open wound, feeling for that stray bit of metal.

There's a twisted sort of intimacy in having Cooper's fingers delving into the wound, a sick parody of what else he's buried in you on better days.

You moan, a low sound pulled deep from within you involuntarily. It hurts.

"Now dove... That ain't the sort of cooing you should be makin' right now,'' amusement laces his words as he studies your face. His finger goes still to let you settle. It takes a moment, adjusting to the intrusion because his finger has sunk deeper. Your body is trying to reject the invasion, nerves flaring up with clear alarm.

You huff in response, shooting Cooper a sour look as a tremor runs through your strained body. It's not your fault your pain sounds are similar to the ones you make when he's rutting into you. He shakes his head, smiling to himself as Cooper gets back to work.

"Can feel it at my fingertip, jus' let me-" The digging is a burning invasion now as he presses deeper, finger crooking. You can feel the tug of something else scraping your insides as you suck in a sudden breath. He catches that bit of rusty metal, tugs and then it's over.

Cooper holds up the metal shard in front of your face with a yellow grin. "Got it."

You promptly drop your forehead against his shoulder with a whine. Blood leaks sluggishly from the wound now.

"There, there. I gotcha, dove. Now, you let me clean you up proper." His gloved hand rubs your back briefly before he gently sets you upright. Cooper is quicker to clean out the wound, caring little for how the alcohol he pours directly on it burns as he flushes it out. It's almost a welcomed sensation after the nausea induced fingering he'd just been up to.

He pauses, considering a moment before Cooper pops the same bloody finger he'd just had inside of you into his mouth. You can only watch in a detached way, pain keeping you pacified as Cooper makes sure to lick his hand clean of your blood.

"Disgusting," you sigh. It's half-hearted. You've seen him ingest far worse. 

"What? I'm a ghoul, sweetheart," he smirks. "Figure only way I'm gonna get a taste of that."

"Can you please fucking get me that Stimpak already?"

He tuts while wiping his hand clean of your blood on a spare rag before obliging. Cooper smoothly jabs the needle directly above your wound without warning, earning a hiss from you but your resentment instantly melts away.

This time you moan in pleasure, soothed as the endorphins rush your system in a cooling wave of comfort. A detached floaty feeling settles over you instantly as you relax, eyes drifting shut. A content smile settles on your lips while Cooper busies himself properly bandaging up your wound and wiping away the excess blood. His fingers linger, the bare ones ghosting up your side as a tremor runs through you for a wholly different reason now.

Slowly, you open your eyes again as you once more slump into his warmth. The scent of leather, gunpowder and something uniquely him fill your nostrils as you inhale.

"Better, dove?"

"Mhhm," You hum in contentment.

"That's my girl," He purrs as he hooks an arm about your waist and gently tugs you closer. "Now how's about we see about thankin' me proper for saving your sorry ass?"

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Ruin My Reputation

pairing : cooper howard (the ghoul) x (fem) reader

summary : he’s soft for you

warnings : blood, drug use kinda, talk of shooting

a/n : just something short and sweet so the fallout brainrot subsides.

“You know damn well I hate when you show up like this.” You let your medical supplies clatter onto the table where the ghoul sits, waiting like a hurt dog. Eyes awfully resemblant of the animal.

It’s likely that the only reason he’s here, looking this run down, is cause he’s got no vials left. If you knew better, you’d hide yours. Or better yet, get rid of them all together.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” he pauses to sputter out a cough and take a deep breath, “I thought you loved seeing me.” Shakily, he grabs his hat off his head and places it on the table.

“I love you a whole lot more when I don’t have to worry about you showing up at my doorstep on the brink of death you old..” Your words trail off and whatever insult you were ready to throw at him is taken away by the stream of air you let slip past your lips.

“I told you to quit your worryin’, I ain’t gonna die on ‘ya.”

“Oh yeah? And what do you suppose it is you’re doing right now?”

“Well if you’d quit your yappin’ and get to fixin’ I’d be doing a whole lot better, wouldn’t I?” He offers an unwelcome smile, which disappears when he winces in his pain. You hand him a vial of his favorite yellow liquid before you get to unbuttoning his shirt. After downing the vial he opens his mouth again but you're quick to cast your eyes his way.

“Looks like I didn’t need your medical attention after all, huh? ‘S a damn shame.”

“Mhm, waste of my time. Well then, I’ll cut right to it, thought I told ‘ya not to come around anymore after the last time.” Your voice trails off as you disappear to the back room to grab him a shirt that isn’t littered with holes and dirt and a shit ton of blood. Most of which probably isn't even his. And he follows behind, limping, like he’s in a trance and can’t help himself.

You hear a grunt from the other room as you rummage through a small storage box of his discarded things. Anything he left over the months he had been making himself a frequent quest in your home was in this box. You wanted to burn it. All of it. Use those little bottles of yellow liquid as a fire starter and make him watch while you did it. But anytime you tried, you couldn’t actually bring yourself to part with the tiny symbols of his presence.

“We both know you didn’t mean that,” he appears in the doorway behind you, blocking your exit, “besides I always come to my girl for help when things get rough. She's got all the good chems.”

You throw the shirt into his arms, a bit harder than intended, but he catches it with the reflexes of a man who kills for a living. Because, well, he does. You’re not sure why but every comment is making you angrier about him being there. A chem stash, huh? That’s all he thought of you?

“I wish you wouldn’t. I ain’t got time to sit around and tend to you, wait for you to get all better and leave again.”

The shirt now hangs on his body loosely, buttons open, “Now what’s got you so sour tonight. Usually you're a lot kinder to little ol’ me.” He leans against the doorframe

“Maybe the fact that I’ve got a half dead cowboy making himself comfy in my home every two weeks doesn’t sit well with me. You ever think about that before you kick your dirty boots off on my carpet?” You pause to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, which reminds me, you owe me a new carpet.”

“What’re you talking about, woman?”

“You got blood on my carpet.”

“It was already covered in blood and dirt anyway!”

“Well, you got more on it. I liked how it was. So now you owe me a new one.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Where would you like me to go for said carpet? Anything I find you is gonna look exactly the same as the one already sitting on your goddamn floor!” He moves in slowly, cautiously like he’s practiced the art a million times. “Now I know you’re not worried about that piece of fabric out there. What is the problem?”

He swoops in close, close enough to wrap his arms around your waist with his hands clasped together at the dip in your back. You don’t push him away, though you want to. Although, all you think about is how your gun is sitting merely 5 inches away on the end table beside you. You could shoot him, if you wanted. But you probably won't.

Cooper’s eyes find your avoidant ones, the rough pads of his fingers grabbing at your chin to make you look at him. He’d never raise his full hand to you, smart man. God knows you’d think he was moving in to slap you, and his hand would be gone before he could yell ‘yeehaw’.

“You know damn well that I worry about you Coop.” Your arm finds his forearm, tugging his hand away from your face, “I just want you to stay for once, so I won't have to worry about you dying in the middle of the wasteland somewhere.” His hands find the dip in your back again, running along your skin until they rest on your hips.

“Hey now, you know I can’t stay, I got business to take care of out there.”

“Yeah, it’s always business. Always. Well you know what, so do I. So go on and get ‘fore I shoot yer sorry ass.” You step away from him, pushing him out of your way but his hands are quick to find your hips again and pull you back to him. Works like magnets.

“Now you're just being dramatic.. Alright alright, if you ask me nicely I’ll stay for a little longer than usual.”

You stare at him, eyebrows flexed in annoyance but the rest of your face has seemingly cooled down. You don’t need to say anything, he’s already agreed. He looks down at you with a soft smirk, thumbs rubbing into your hip bones.

“You are the easiest woman to please in the whole wasteland.” You feel your eyebrows relax as one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek in his rough palm. His lips part, gazing at you with deep adoration.

“Think you’re making me go soft darlin’, gonna ruin my damn reputation.”

[lskisms]

You asked for ghost requests?

I got an idea for Phantom cause from the clips I've seen. He's like a high-energy puppy.

Relaxing with his partner after a concert, and he's sleepy as he comes down from the high of performing or he still has unspent energy leftover. So two options: soft sleepy smexy times or doing it to release the rest of his energy. Feel free to choose either one.

can attest to the puppy energy !! he was all over the stage in austin and it was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen actually i was giggling at the barricade like a little schoolgirl

anyways bc phantom is SOOOO my baby why not both

sleepy and soft.

say he comes back to the hotel room and once he’s freshly showered, he’s got you in his arms, relaxed in bed and chatting about anything that comes to mind. the adrenaline, all that octane, has burned through him and smothered itself out, but still, he has this urgent need to feel you entirely. he kisses you soft and slow, pressing you back into the plush pillows. when he moves to kiss you neck, little fangs dragging lightning across your skin, you try to tell him he just showered, so he shouldn’t work up another sweat. he doesn’t listen to you, of course, just nips at the junction between your shoulder and neck, the soft skin pricking hotly, and whispers that he needs you.

and because you’ve always been weak to him, you let him shimmy you out of your pajamas and take you as he pleases. his hips roll against yours deliciously, agonizingly slow, but each press of his cock against that spot inside you that only he knows how to get to makes it worth it. his mouth is everywhere, muttering praises into your skin and swallowing up each noise of yours that dares to rise abovea soft moan. he makes sure you come first, as he always does, and his release follows just seconds after. his body eases into yours, skin against skin, breaths mingling between you. he refuses to pull out of you for quite sometime, but you don't complain (you never complain) because he fills you in ways undescribable, an otherworldly feeling of completion.

but he is thoroughly exhausted, sleepiness settling heavy into his very bones. he does get up eventually to clean you up and redress you, but each motion is slow-going, syrupy and languid and perfect. he takes you into his arms again the second he's back in bed, whispers of love confessions falling on deaf ears as you let the remnants of his warmth inside you lull you to sleep.

pent-up.

he doesn't bother to shed his clothes or shower first, doesn't even bother to kick off his shoes. the second he sees you in the hotel room, he's getting himself out of the offending mask and sealing you in a kiss that is all teeth and tongue and spit. it's a way you have him often, messy and fumbling, but that always drives the experience of letting him have you from perfect to life-altering.

he barely gets himself out of his boots, his pants, or even you out of your own clothes, soaked with the sweat of yourself and the people you'd been with in the pit that night, crushed against the barricade. he gets you on all fours on the bed and slips inside without much of a fight, his cock straining against the slick of your walls. the pace he sets is brutal and it has you keening loudly; you're certain you'll have a noise complaint before he's even halfway decided to be done using you tonight.

his hands press bruises into your skin, claws digging deep into the plush of everywhere he can reach. the bite of each pinprick has your eyes rolling into the back of your head, a delicious haze filling your head until all you can think of is his name and the earth-shattering way his hips drive into your ass. he pulls you up by the back of your neck, tongue sliding against the shell of your ear as he asks you who your body belongs to, who gets to use it as they please (it's yours, phantom. all yours, comes your reply, each syllable broken and stuttered). and when he's content with your answers, he pushes you down into the mattress, his hand pressing your back into a perfect arch just for him.

he overstimulates you, focused on nobody's pleasure, just on getting that livewire of energy out of himself. you're lucky he doesn't make you count how many times you come because you lose count after three. and when his rutting finally comes to an end, it's almost as agonizing to not have him inside of you as it is for him to keep fucking you. you're so limp and foggy that it makes him giggle hazily himself, proud to have been the progenitor of your undoing.

he'll do it again after the next concert too, he tells you, so don't worry your pretty little head. he knows how much you adore being brainless for him and it'd be awfully despicable of him to deny you that pleasure.

[everest-is-dead-now]

The Mirror — Terzomega Oneshot

1.2k words ~ smut

After a ritual, Terzo and Omega find themselves alone in the dressing room.

this is a short and sweet one!

(in general my requests r open so feel free to drop me some more. thanks for reading ok bye)

—

Arms spread, hands to the sky, Terzo shut his eyes as the sound of applause washed over him like a wave. The venue reverberated the last dark notes of the guitar, the last cymbal crash, the final echo of their ritual.

Terzo opened his eyes.

The band was exhausted after the show. They shuffled offstage, with Terzo commending them for their performances. They filed away to pack up their equipment, and Terzo disappeared into his dressing room to fit into something more suitable for travel.

He popped a pineapple in his mouth from a complimentary fruit selection on his table. It stung his throat after singing a whole show, but was too delicious to ignore. He hummed around the room, grabbing his street clothes and setting them nearby. After unbuttoning his shirt halfway, he noticed his reflection. A bit messy, as was expected after a performance. He leaned over the makeup desk, peering into the vanity mirror. He gently swiped away beads of sweat from his forehead, touching up a smear of black from his lips.

The door shut with a gentle click. Terzo looked up in the mirror at the door, seeing Omega approaching him from behind.

“How may I help you, Omega ghoul?” Terzo resumed his preening, now undoing a few of the intricacies of his sweat-soaked outfit.

Ever silent, Omega slid behind him, his arms wrapping around his waist, resting his head on his shoulder. Terzo noticed his eyes had shut beneath the mask.

“Long show, si?” Terzo chuckled. “You must be exhausted.”

Omega rumbled in what sounded like agreement.

“You did excellent, though. Very good playing of the guitar.” Terzo reached behind him, scratching his scalp lightly.

Omega let out a long, heavy sigh, opening his eyes. “You were a tease.”

“All for the fans,” Terzo tutted at a previously unseen black smear on his forehead. Giving up on perfecting his face, he began undoing the rest of his shirt and his pants. He continued, “What a shame you cannot undress until after we are at the hotel. You must be uncomfortable.”

“A shame you have to undress now.”

“Why is that?” Terzo chuckled.

Omega held him tighter, his erection poking into Terzo’s back. Terzo laughed again.

“You must be patient, amore.” He wiggled in his grasp. “Let me go, I need to dress.”

But Omega was not patient, nor did he let go. He pressed harder, bending him over the vanity. Terzo looked at Omega through the reflection.

“Luce stellare, there is no time for this,” Terzo chittered, excited but hesitant. “Your fellow ghouls are waiting. You must wait until the hotel, si?”

“I’ll be fast.”

Omega yanked down his pants the rest of the way. Under the lip of the vanity, Omega slipped his hand over his crotch, palming him to get a rise. Terzo huffed, looking over his shoulder at him. Omega grabbed his face and roughly turned it towards the mirror, forcing him to meet his own eye in the reflection.

“Look at yourself while I touch you.”

He looked surprised, a bit winded. Omega grasped him firmly and began stroking. With his face held in place, Terzo had no choice but to watch himself react. His mouth opened, a sliver of pink tongue just visible as he gently groaned. He clenched his jaw, embarrassed. But as he fought it, his expression only gave him away more. Slow blinks, pinched eyebrows, unable to help the few moans that parted his lips.

Omega’s eyes bored into him. “You look like a slut.”

Terzo looked away, his face becoming hot. Omega’s thumb dug into his tip, which made him squeak. “Keep looking,” he commanded.

Terzo had no choice. Meeting his own gaze once more, he bit his lip in a poor attempt to keep quiet. He whined as Omega continued playing with his tip, feeling restless with the sensation, unable to control himself any longer. He watched his reflection unravel, shift, sigh, moan. He shook his head at himself.

“This is embarrassing, luce stellare,” he said breathily. He watched Omega’s eyes smile, knowing he was doing so under the mask.

A harsh knock caused them both to pause.

“Yo Papa, we’re ready to go,” a voice said behind the door. Alpha.

Omega murmured in his ear, “You’ll be done soon.” At the same time, he resumed stroking him quickly.

“I…” Terzo winced, catching his own eye again. He shut them, mustering up his strength to speak. “Some moments, please!”

“We’re fucking hungry, hurry up.” Alpha gave the door another pound, presumably stalking away.

Terzo bit his finger to stop himself from moaning, releasing a pathetic whimper instead.

“You will be done soon, won’t you, Papa?” Omega teased quietly. “Open your eyes. Look at what a mess I’ve made you.”

Leaning against the desk, he looked up, glaring at himself. His reflection revealed a pleasure-filled visage, a grimace holding back his moans. Seeing himself so needy, so close to finishing, sparked a strange feeling in his gut. A hot one that zapped through him, causing him to cum into Omega’s hand. His face tensed, he gritted his teeth, and he let go with a moan, looking almost as if he were in pain. He held on to Omega’s hand still around his face, grasping for support, slowly falling from his orgasm.

“You liked seeing yourself, didn’t you?”

Terzo, humiliated, denied it. “No, I liked your hand on my cock.”

“Tersoro, don’t lie to me,” Omega teased. He slowly pulled away, crossing the room to the stack of napkins next to the fruit bowl. Terzo’s heart skipped a beat at the name. Omega rarely used pet names.

Terzo finished stripping, though he pulled up his underwear. He dressed in his black sweatshirt and pants, pulling up the hood. “Perhaps,” he said with an air of bravado, “I will put a mirror in my quarters.”

Omega finished wiping his hand and tossed the napkins in the waste bin. He then returned to Terzo and hugged him from behind once more.

Omega whispered, “Good. I want you to watch your body beg for mine.”

Terzo shuddered with the thought.

Another knock at the door, although this time it was so violent Terzo feared the door would burst.

“Omega, if you don’t quit fucking Papa, I’ll break this fucking—”

Omega crossed the room in an instant, opening the door to a pissed-off Alpha.

“Finally!” he exclaimed dramatically. “You can’t fucking wait for the hotel like the rest of us?!”

“No one is waiting for you at the hotel,” Omega scowled.

For a moment, Terzo thought Alpha would burst into flames. Instead, he took a deep breath.

“Are you ready?” he asked Terzo in a falsely-sweet voice.

Terzo smiled, nodding. “You are hungry, si? We get taco ring?”

Alpha looked genuinely overjoyed. “This is why you’re my favorite Papa.”

He darted off first, leaving Terzo and Omega to walk side by side toward the exit.

“It’s called Taco Bell,” Omega reminded him. Terzo laughed, shoving his hands in the hoodie pocket.

“I believe you are wrong, mostriciatto.”

buy me a kofi <3

[mklvn]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ kaneki ken x fem reader ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ 

Kaneki Ken, who greets you with an endearing kiss once he comes back from work at the tea shop. Lying down next to you to read his favorite book alongside the warmth of his beloved, passion laced in his voice when deciding to recite bedtime stories out loud.

Kaneki, who's conditioned his own sweet girl into familiarizing herself with the eyepatch he wore, more wary than usual whenever he was with you.                                                           

The one-eyed ghoul that after finding you again can't keep his hands off for the life of him. Wanting to get a good feel of everything he'd missed and engrave it into his head.

Your lover, after all this time, wanted to protect you from the monsters that hid within those that looked just like him. A simple, "I know.." and relief vents out from his entire being. Pathetic pecks to your face became hungry, craving more than just your understanding. He's clawing for redemption of his wrongdoings and wants to be salvaged from within you.

You don't need to question where he ran off to. The coincidental happenings revolving around an 'eyepatch ghoul' on the news were all your mind spiraled over when your boyfriend went missing. But it made more than sense. Because the second he was back in your arms, he had the solid stare of a tormented soul. Things he's seen that were once picturesque stories on a page of his books have come to life. And it was a nightmare.

His plentifully scarred self attaches itself to you at the hip, not wanting to let you go as easily as before.

For so much time lost, he wishes there was a reversal of every single one of his stupid choices: Fleeing from your side, from everything that was once so perfect. Leaving all of it for you to bear without him. 

He won't abandon you again, melting into your skin flush against his. Grinding against you and brushing his thumb over your clit, all that he wouldn't have the pleasure of feeling if he'd taken any longer to see you.

Kaneki hadn't changed much, still being the same emotional loverboy from before. It wasn't surprising when tears began to helplessly spill from his tainted eyes, unable to stop them from running like a faucet. He just missed you so much. His sobs and groans interchanged when your uncorrupted walls fluttered around him, tightening your grasp on his shoulders as he pulled you over himself.

"I hope you missed me as much as I did..."

It's impossible to yearn for his presence any less. You want to prove how right he was to believe that you did, hoping it amounted to the emotions he'd lost the key to when he left you. Your palms curl inwards into fists against his chest, your ass casting over his dick repeatedly when you bounced. As quickly as he'd misplaced the key, you're giving it to him again: how your brows furrowed when you were angry,  pouting when you were sad. He sees it all over again when your thighs hug him as tightly as your cunt did.

At his wit's end, he pulls out from beneath and comes on your tummy; He doesn't want to spoil any part of you. Soft murmurs tell you how sorry he is, that he'll turn the world upside down to get to you.

There's no doubt Kaneki can do it once more. You've seen it on the news.

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 24. threesome

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “sharing is caring”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ sodo and rain learn to share their special gift

pairing: sodo ghoul x afab!reader x rain ghoul

a/n: to make up for the missed day i will try to make this fic one of my better ones 🙏 we’re almost done with the holiday hoes event !!!

cw: nsfw content. threesome. switch!sodo. dom!rain. sub!reader. spanking. oral sex (m receiving). piv sex. anal sex. degradation. double penetration.

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“look at you two… just a couple of filthy whores.. oh isn’t this just exciting?” —❤︎

“s-shut the fuck up…” —❤︎

┅✦┅

sodo swore he was seeing things for a moment.

the sight before him looked too good to be true.

but alas, a familiar voice ringed out, snapping the fire ghoul out of his trance and back into reality.

“don’t just stand there.” rain spoke with a snippy tone, sounding irritated from sodo’s presence.

“either you join in on the fun, or you get the fuck out.”

lord knows what force of satan possessed sodo to make him stay, but he did, silently and slowly shutting the door behind him. his eyes never tore away from the scene before him.

what a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. rain has you bent over in a doggy style position, webbed fingers tightly clamped onto your hips while his cock plowed into the rim of your ass, each thrust making you squeal in pure ecstasy. the fire ghoul’s eyes drifted down to the lower half of your body, and he could see how dripping wet you were, pussy leaking and begging for attention while the water ghoul behind you abused your ass with his dick.

rain noticed how his pack mate was staring at you, and he grinned wickedly, one of his hands flying down to smack your ass lewdly.

“gorgeous, aren’t they?” rain spoke with a velvety, slick tone, thrusts slowing down slightly so he can turn part of his attention to sodo.

the fire ghoul just nodded, and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “so this is what you’ve been doing for the holiday season?”

“yes, why? got a problem with it?” rain mused.

sodo scoffed, a sarcastic smirk evident on his face. “maybe. you couldn’t bother to share?”

“well i’m sharing now, aren’t i?” rain quipped back, thrusting in a particular angle that had you moaning into the sheets. “and i can see your dick straining in your pants. so come on, get over here and join in on the action.”

the fire ghoul just chuckled and started walking towards you both. “gladly.”

the fact that rain and sodo were just casually having a conversation like you weren’t being absolutely pounded into, it just got you going even more. your eyes were hazed and blurred with instinctive tears, slowly watching sodo make his way over to you while his calloused fingers undid the fly on his pants.

sodo got up on the bed and positioned himself in front of you, being sure that the front of his lower body was directly at your face. before you knew it, he had completely pulled down his pants and boxers, his hardened cock springing free from the restraints of his undergarments. the spitfire looked down at your lustful face, and smirked.

“like what you see?” he chuckled, one of his hands moving to grab onto the shaft of his dick, aligning it in front of your lips.

your eyes were dotted with stars while staring down at the chub of sodo’s cock. it was already leaking with precum and throbbing with need. damn, he got so turned on just from watching you and rain.

rain seemed to have noticed that you were very much star struck by the sight of sodo’s gorgeous dick. he growled, and thrusted into you hard, making you whine loudly.

sodo saw this and took this as an opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth while your lips parted, making you whimper in surprise from his shaft invading your mouth. though, your lips tightened around it, and sodo groaned with delight.

“fuck. that’s it.” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair to control your movements. “suck on it.”

the sensation of being fucked from behind by rain and sucking off sodo, it was so goddamn hot. to just be used and pleasured by these two incredibly sexy ghouls, it was a fantasy like no other. the eagerness was evident in the way you were sucking sodo’s cock, tongue swirling around the head and getting a good taste of that salty precum. the fire ghoul was definitely enjoying it too, given by how he was grabbing your hair and forcing you to go deeper while his pleasured sounds increased in volume.

while all this was happening, a certain water ghoul was observing you and the fire ghoul closely. rain chuckled lustfully as he watched sodo’s expression morph from arrogant promiscuity, to desperate and needy. sodo’s tongue hung out of his mouth as you sucked him off, and rain was reveling at the sight of you two.

“look at you two… just a couple of filthy whores.. oh isn’t this just exciting?” he chided with a lewd edge, grabbing one of your legs and hooking it around his waist from behind.

sodo let out a high pitched growl and moaned in response, gritting his sharp teeth together. “s-shut the fuck up…”

“oh you know it’s true.” the bassist responded, slapping your ass, a loud smack echoing through the walls and your moans quickly following after.

“you two are like dogs in heat. it’s pathetic, really.”

“h-hahhh… s-screw you rain… ahh..!”

rain was turning you and sodo into his bitches, using your bodies for his own personal pleasure. he liked watching the fucked out expressions on your face, and the blissed twinkle that shone in sodo’s eyes every time your tongue dragged across the most sensitive part on his dick.

eventually, sodo had enough and wanted to feel something better. removing his cock from your mouth with a popping sound, sodo had changed positions a bit.

grabbing your body and lifting your hips up, sodo positioned himself underneath you and aligned his cock along your glittering wet pussy. rain seemed to take notice of this, and smirked. while still inside of you, rain grabbed your thighs and spread them further apart, before forcing your cunt down on sodo’s cock, loud gasps rupturing from your guys’ throats.

your mind was being numbed from the feeling of two things penetrating both holes all at once. sodo was underneath you and sat up slightly, cows grasping at your thighs while he bucked his hips up into you. pleasured grunts fell from his lips as he did this.

“f-fuck you feel so good…” the fire ghoul praised, moving you deeper onto his length. you could only babble nonsensical words while he spoke to you.

rain looked down at the two of you and scowled lustfully. his hand gripped your hair and forced it up while he went to town inside of you.

“look at that, sodo.” rain chided, a promiscuous twinge evident in his voice. “see that face on them? you think that’s you making them feel this good?”

sodo snarled and rammed his hips up further into your tight cunt.

“what ever happening to sharing, rain?” he gritted, tail coiling around your thigh possessively.

“i am sharing.” rain retorted. “was just statin’ the facts.”

“well i think that your ‘facts’ are complete and utter bullshit.”

the two ghouls snarled at each other, their cocks hitting deeper inside of you to try and prove that one was better than the other. you on the other hand, were forced to take it all.

after a bit of back and forth bickering, rain just smirked.

“you know what? how about we just keep fucking them, see who makes them cum the hardest, eh?” rain challenged, and sodo’s eyes fluttered in pleasure and intrigue, anger fading away for a moment.

“i know you like a good challenger after all, firefly. so how about it? wanna keep doin’ this like rabbits and see who gets them off the hardest?”

sodo took a moment to speak back, moaning in delight as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock more upon listening to rain’s words. he had a feeling you were getting excited just from hearing rain’s suggestions. looking directly at you, you gave sodo a haste nod, moaning from the way rain was pounding into you.

that was all the confirmation sodo needed.

“alright then.” sodo confirmed, returning rain’s wicked smirk. “challenge accepted, water boy.”

rain chuckled darkly, and slapped your ass again.

“then let’s do this.”

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[thelampisaflashlight]

"I love you."

It slips out with the air from his lungs, eyes half lidded, as he threads his fingers through Dew's hair, playing with the pale strands.

Rain doesn't expect a response, but Dew's cheek rubs against his chest, a gentle hum falling from his lips.

"Love you, too."

Love you, too.

That's the first time Dew's ever...

[apollodarling-writes]

Hii, can i please ask for some fluff and comfort for Suzuya Juuzou (from Tokyo Ghoul) with a ghoul reader?

cws ; dissociation, hurt/comfort, trauma implications, established relationship, possibly ooc juuzo — it’s been like three years since i’ve watched tokyo ghoul, spoilers!!! , kind of short?

when juuzo showed up at your doorstep without so much as a text, you knew something was wrong. you could see it in the way his eyes were unfocused and red-rimmed, in the slight tremble of his hands, and the way his bottom lip quivered when he tore his gaze from the floor to meet yours. it was a drastic change from his usual bubbly and eccentric demeanor, and it worried you to see him in such a state.

your boyfriend had shown up clad in CCG gear, his knuckles white from the effort of holding onto his quinque, and based on the state of his appearance, you could only assume that he had one hell of an evening.

as juuzo met your gaze, a fire had been ignited. his features twisted into anger and grief, his lips curling back into a cruel snarl as he pointed the quinque at you. “if ghouls didn’t exist, then… shinohara-san would be okay, right?” he asks, his voice oddly calm despite the emotion swirling in his gaze.

your voice dies in your throat as you watch juuzo tilt his head at you, the sharp end of his quinque digging into the meat of your chest. your throat constricts, tears bubbling at your lashline as you open your mouth to speak.

“ghouls are abominations. all they know to do is take. just like that ghoul was going to take shinohara-san from me.” he murmurs, interrupting you as his weapon falls limp at his side.

you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod, opening your door further as you gesture for your distraught lover to come inside. a flicker of recognition passes through juuzo’s gaze as he peers into your apartment, a picture frame of your first date with him catching his attention. he swallows thickly, his trembling fingers gently reaching out to wipe away your tears.

that leaves you here, with a cold cup of tea on your coffee table and juuzo in your arms. he refused to talk about what happened earlier that night, but now that the sun had risen and he was seemingly out of tears to shed, the young man finally speaks up.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse and cracking. juuzo’s fingers idly toy with the hem of your shirt as he takes a deep breath. “i was so angry that i…“

juuzo’s voice trails off, his arms snaking around your midsection as he rests his head on your chest again. he doesn’t say anything more than that, simply opting to listen to the steady beat of your heart.

“you don’t have to talk about anything until you’re ready, juu.” you murmur, you fingers threading through his hair. you could piece two and two together — a mission went wrong and shinohara was hurt as a result. you knew how special that man was to juuzo, and you could understand why he was so upset.

juuzo quietly hums in response, his cold fingers reaching beneath your shirt to soak up the warmth your skin provided. as you gaze down at him, you recognize the way his eyes seemed unfocused — staring at everything and soaking in nothing. oh, juuzo.

you press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, feeling the way his breath shudders and a shiver wracks down his spine, his arms tightening around you as if you would disappear too.

“i love you, juu.” you whisper, unsure of what else to say. juuzo’s throat bobs as he swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“i love you too.”

[vaultie-and-theghoul]

So, You Comin'?

Cooper watched the coward, Henry, jet away into the wasteland. Of course, he had noticed his Vaultie right away, gun held tightly in her hand. The barrel shook as she stubbornly aimed the gun at her father. Taking the shot for her was the least he could do.

Now the Ghoul stared out over the wasteland, mind running a million miles an hour. He noted how Lucy kneeled over the young man below her. A painful, angry heat rose in his chest. Jealousy. Cooper started monologing, something from his acting days he did to time to clear his mind. While the words left poetically from his lips, a spark of hope flickered in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, his Vaultie would join him on this journey. This time willingly.

"So, you comin'?"

The silence that followed stretched on forever, but the feeling that accompanied the distinct sound of a pistol being drawn was significantly worse. Cooper steadied himself, preparing to take the bullet. The shot itself was unlikely to kill him, but the pain of rejection felt enough like death. The Ghoul found himself feeling a sort of pride as well. His little Vaultie not only pulled a gun on her father but now has her finger on the trigger ready to shoot.

There's my little killer. Cooper took a deep breath and waited for the shock of pain.

*Bang*

Cooper slowly turned his head, searching for what exactly his Vaultie shot. The now-dead feral ghoul had escaped his attention earlier, but now he was all too aware. A question pulled at the Ghoul's lips, but now was not the time for questions. From the look of the feral, that was undoubtedly a mercy killing. It reminded Coop of that poor ghoul he turned into ass jerky. That had been a mercy killing too, even if his vaultie hadn't seen it that way.

Dogmeat trotted up to him, and Cooper knew it was time to head out. This battle was coming to an end and the last thing he wanted was to get caught up with the damn brotherhood of steel. The Ghoul decided to walk on without looking back. He wasn't going to beg or ask again. It was up to Lucy if she wanted to accompany him or stay with her new little boyfriend.

When Coop was about to give up hope, he heard his Vaultie rushing to catch up. The same smug smirk lifted his lips, and a voice that sounded a lot like the old him whispered Good Girl.

"Let's get the fuck out of here sweetheart," Cooper turned to face his Vaultie. She had just found out that her father had been lying all these years and had most likely killed her first living creature. Despite this, Lucy pulled herself together, nodded, and followed him into the desert. She'll talk when she's ready. Until then, the Ghoul would simply enjoy the company of his Vaultie.

AO3

[theewritingroomm]

The First Meeting - Pre War

Summary: meeting Cooper for the first time. Pairing: Cooper Howard x Reader (eventual) Word Count: 597 Warnings: none for this chapter, future chapter may have more warnings. A/N: This drabble series is going to feel like a slow burn, and it will likely not be posted in any specific order. However there will be a masterlist for this series. I do NOT consent to my work being translated or published onto third party sites - including AO3 and Wattpad. 

The Cowboy & The Movie Star

When you had gotten the role, you did not expect much to come out of it. The one thing you knew for certain was that your mom was proud. She was every time you got a role. And eventually, everybody in your hometown would know about it. On release day, her book club would become a watch party and they would drive to the nearest theater and watch it. Later in the evening you could expect a call where your mom would rave about the movie and your performance, Even if it was only thirty seconds. 

That is exactly what happened with your latest movie. Though the praise did not stop with just your mother this time. Multiple times a day your agent was calling to tell you about the latest interview opportunity or magazine article that wanted to feature you and discuss the movie. . 

Accepting those interviews had rocketed you to the status of America’s Sweetheart. Your place there was cemented by the nomination you received for best supporting actress. 

“Mom, I don’t know if I can do this.” You admitted into the space of the backseat, running your hands down the front of your dress. An attempt to calm the nerves taking over. 

Your mom placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn towards her. Pride was visible on every feature of her face. 

“My sweet girl, you can do this. You are so strong and magnificent. And now the world is finally catching onto what I’ve known this whole time.” She fixes a strand of your hair as she continues. “So, when you do win and you become a world traveling movie star, don’t forget you momma.” 

A laugh breaks through the nerves as the car comes to a stop. 

The door is opened from the outside of the car and the flashes from dozens of cameras momentarily blinds you. The shouts of your name are nearly deafening as you step out of the car. 

An older gentleman ushers you and your mother down the red carpet. Instructing you on when to stop and where to begin looking. The ordeal was slightly disorientating; the lights, the voices, the people. It was too much and the nerves began to return as you shuffled down the carpet.. Slamming into your chest like a bus. 

Or perhaps that feeling was the man you had stumbled into. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” You rushed out, grabbing onto the man’s forearm for stability. 

Chancing a glance upwards, dread filling you as the remnants of your career in Hollywood flashed in your mind. 

Though instead of anger from the man above you, there was a flash of worry as he helped you right yourself. His brown eyes were soft as a hand landed on your hip. 

“Accidents happen,” he waved off, “Are you okay, darling?” 

The term of endearment, laced with his slow drawl slid down your spine like warm honey. Settling where his hand sat on your hip and spread warmth through you. 

Before you got the chance to respond, the voices of the paparazzi cut into your brain. 

“Cooper! Y/N! Look this way! Over here!” 

It seemed that, broke the man, Cooper, out of his own trance. His hand slipped from your waist, yours fell from his arm. Backing up a step you met his eyes again. 

“Thank you for catching me.” You spoke quickly, shuffling past him, you mother in tow. Sporting a new, cheshire cat grin. 

As the award show began, a newly familiar figure slid into the empty seat next to yours.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

[the ghoul x reader] sweet tooth

If there’s one thing you should know about the Ghoul, it’s that he will always be at war with any and every sweet thing.

Not a war as in bloody and bruised—no, not physically—though he feels like it most days. It’s a war where sweetness simply goes against his nature—for he is outwardly, inwardly, and irrevocably twisted. As scarred on the inside as the radiation burns on his skin. So when sweetness and sugar and honey meets steel, when that drip of golden ichor sinks down into leather, he instinctively flinches away yet finds it all too alluring. Like water in gunpowder. Now-clouded purity, rendering bullets ineffective.

The Ghoul would like to believe he could toy with goodness, and hold it in his palm. Keep his distance by keeping it on a leash, because maybe taunts could keep him unholy. But while he thinks himself dirty enough to corrupt, it’s really quite the opposite—your dynamic is more so the darkness running from the light, where even the slightest of beams could render the shadows erased. And maybe deep down, the thought is both desire and fear; The Ghoul would be gone and put to rest—that persona brought forth for the sake of survival—that character shelved in a closet, because everything was a show, and he’s human again.

But ah—wishful thinking.

He wishes you would drown and die, and that he could bury you six feet under—settled beside a coffin marked with the initials C.H. The thought makes him leer, so he stuffs his mouth with cartilage, tendons, flesh. And he’ll wait for you to ripen, before he brings the harvest scythe. An ugly, possessive feeling. Ugly just like him. 

But you’re beautiful—you’re beautiful—and sweet.

“Why’d you bring me with you, mister? You could’ve left me to die.”

“Ain’t much sugar in the wasteland, darlin’. And I’ve got a sweet tooth.”

This isn't exactly for a specific scenario. It's just an amalgamation of my corruption kink thoughts on him and how feral (haha get it--wait does that count as insensitive towards ghouls?--) I am about this degenerate gunslinger

[justghoulythingz]

i want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you…

a drabble for anonymous taken from this prompt list.

pairing : ghoul/lucy maclean

word count : 846

warnings : some good old fashioned self-loathing, rope to restrain, mentions of sex. 18+, mdni

divider credit

It’s been centuries since Cooper Howard has gotten this involved with anyone.

He’s a bit like a stunted foal: clumsy yet reluctant to admit it; so used to being somewhere dark and grisly and detached that when the sun hitched to Lucy MacLean shines, it burns his irreversibly damaged skin. Gives it a kind of glow that he has to kill every time it threatens to bloom.

Self-inflicted wounds are easier to nurse. What’s the point of watering the dead garden his innards are overgrown with?

He winces when she touches him. That’s why her wrists need to be kept bound when he explores her. So she can’t feel how much she affects him. So she doesn’t get the wrong idea.

This ain’t love. Not that she has much experience with the romantic variety. He’s got plenty to keep close to the chest.

He gave himself to his Barb and she trampled him so far into the dirt that he might has well have been buried that fateful day.

The consequential marks don’t seem to bother Lucy. She’s a curious sort. One of the things Cooper admires about her. In the same breath, however, he doesn’t mind if for once she’d give it a proper fucking rest.

She moves too fast for him. He’s not entirely certain he wanted to budge in the first place.

Here she is with his face entombed in her neck, kissing and licking and nibbling as she opens herself to him. Thinking about how he would drag his nose along the slopes and valleys that comprise her if he could. How she deserves a man who’s whole and not whatever husk was violently spat out.

He can plainly see she yearns to reciprocate. Restless energy makes her grit her teeth and clench her thighs, squirming about as he gets to roam free. A low, long-winded hiss manages to escape between the soft, swollen lips he’s already branded.

“Tell me what y’want, angel wings. Use your big girl words. Y’had no trouble up t’this point.” He smiles against her throat, keeping her body caged. His voice cuts through like a saw hacking down a tree. Chop chop chop. Devastation as it crashes to the ground.

She sighs heavily and attempts to fix her posture. He’s very skilled at distracting. It’s not lost on her that he does so on purpose.

“Can you look at me first, Cooper?” she asks, chest heaving. He wonders how their hearts would feel galloping together. He doesn’t take his clothes off for her.

Some days, he wants to.

“Alright,” he begins, angling himself backward and resting one palm on the wall above her head. He can humor her. “I’m lookin’.”

And boy does he look. How can one not, with those doe eyes, large and all-encompassing like a lush forest of green and brown and gold?

His expression takes on that of a predator’s honing in on its prey. Except she’s taken hold of his hide and shredded it until it’s all mangled and indistinguishable. He feigns he has the upper hand. He feigns many things.

Lucy utilizes a few more moments to compose herself. Logic has been replaced with emotion. That requires a different type of effort to navigate.

Normally he would hurry her along, he don’t got all day. But really, he does. Why not spend it admiring a work of unabashed art that spawned from, according to him, the depths of hell?

“As much as I enjoy you getting your excess of me, I feel…” She exhales, shaky. “I feel like that excess has snatched away my enjoyment of you. I, I feel incomplete. It’s not as satisfactory as I know it could be.”

The old, tattered cowboy doesn’t answer. It’s difficult to swallow. She is expectant, but she’s also learned to lower said expectations when it comes to him. So she carries on of her own accord.

“What I want, Cooper, is you. All of you. I’m not satisfied with this half-baked sex we’ve been having. I want to pleasure you. Have you gasping for air and unable to think clearly.”

If she only knew.

“I want you to orgasm in my vagina and mouth and hand and, and wherever else, I don’t care! Except that’s really not true. I do care. I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you. And I want you in all the ways you haven’t let me have you. That’s what I want.”

She’s so technical sometimes that it usually makes him roll his eyes or laugh. Now, he doesn’t do either.

Instead, he grasps her chin and tilts it upward. He shoots her one last isolated once-over and seals their fate with a fervent kiss. The hand once above her travels below and deftly releases her from her binds. The rope falls to the dusty floor with a resounding thud.

“Best get t’work then,” Cooper murmurs against her cushioned mouth. Like a warm, forgiving blanket waiting to surround him, even after being away from home for months, years.

“‘Fore I change my mind.”

[meowmeowriley]

Ghoap Tokyo Ghoul AU where neither Ghost nor Soap is the main character, the One Eyed Ghoul, no that's Gaz.

But this isn't about him.

It's about the Gormet, Ghost, with the snake-like Kagune, who tries to eat Gaz because of his exotic scent, being a half breed, and when he fails to kill and eat Gaz Ghost decides he must at least keep the one-of-a-kind morsel alive, and for himself.

It's about the Binge Eater, Soap, with the explosive/projectile Kagune, who finds the sad sack of flesh and hunger that is Gaz and tries to show him the wonders of overindulgence, and feasts on an entire blocks worth of humans before he's neutralized.

It's about the feud between the Gormet, who thinks food deserves to be savored and cherished, and the Binge Eater, who thinks food aught to be inhaled and devoured in as large a quantity as possible.

It's about the two of them bickering and bantering, and generally bothering everyone in their immediate vicinity as they slowly fall for one another.

It's also about the seemingly kindly Price, with a mysterious and secret Kagune Gaz has yet to see, who runs a coffee shop and is just trying to keep the peace in their territory and now has to regularly hide his three new wards from the Doves, and would love it if those fucking muppets would, in literally any order: 1) eat something normal, 2) not eat so damn much, and 3) EAT SOMETHING AT-FUCKING-ALL

It's kinda about Gaz, in that he's surrounded by 3 of the most powerful and dangerous Ghouls to have ever existed but one just wants to run a coffee shop and keep the peace and the other two can't tell if they wanna eat eachother or fuck. And also he's miserable and hungry.

[everest-is-dead-now]

Imagine — Terzomega drabble

600 words ~ smut

One night, Terzo finds that Omega has snuck into his bed…

i’m so mean to you guys ~

this was inspired two things: the comment “now imagine if u wrote omega as sweet as u drew him” and the ask “i would die for some terzomega body worship.”

i knwo it’s not a long one, but it’s a lazy day, and i thought this would be really cute. i’m sure no one minds a quick read on a sunday evening

—

A warm, wet sensation ran up his stomach. Terzo shivered.

“Delectable…”

Terzo raised his head, looking up. There Omega was, in his bed, licking up his torso, kissing his skin as he reached his chest.

“Mostriciatto?” Terzo murmured sleepily. He was naked, lying in his bed. Omega, too, wore nothing.

The ghoul smiled wickedly and shushed him gently. “Don’t speak. Just feel it.”

Terzo laid back, shutting his eyes.

Feel.

Strong fingers gripped his hips, slipping down to knead his thighs. He shifted his legs wider. The hand slipped to his inner thigh, teasing his sensitive skin. He raised them, wider, Omega settling between them.

Lips ran down his abdomen. His bottom teeth grazed him, making his stomach flinch and hesitate between breaths.

“Omega…” Terzo whined. “Do not tease—“

“Hush,” Omega growled. “I don’t tease. I’m not here to fuck you, Terzo. I’m here to love you.”

Terzo’s breath caught, his heart pounding quickly. “…Omega…?”

Omega smiled. He sat up, pulling Terzo with him. “I want to show you how beautiful your body is.”

Omega stood, holding Terzo’s hands. Hesitantly, Terzo followed him.

There was a long mirror on the wall. Omega guided him in front of it, standing behind him. Terzo glanced at it shyly, looking away.

“Look.”

Terzo complied. He saw his naked body, the dark hair down his chest and torso, his arms, his legs, his happy trail leading to his erection. The way his stomach stuck out just a tad too much, the imperfections in his skin, the way Omega’s eyes watched him like a hungry beast. Omega slid his hand down his sides, his hips, crouching to reach his inner thighs, just below his cock. Terzo watched his thighs tremble with anticipation.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?”

Terzo shied away again. This time, Omega shoved him forward. Terzo caught himself on the mirror, now face to face with his blushing expression.

“Tell me.”

“Mostriciatto…”

“Say how beautiful you are.”

Terzo shut his eyes, humiliated. “It is difficult…”

“Let me help.”

Omega felt his way up to Terzo’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder. He began rubbing his nipples in small circles. Terzo hummed with pleasure.

“You’re cute when I make you feel good.”

“Stop it,” Terzo whined.

“No.”

One of his hands reached down and grabbed Terzo’s cock. Ever so slowly, he began stroking him. Terzo moaned quietly.

“Say it.”

“I…” Terzo turned, trying to bury his face in Omega’s neck. From his lips, a whisper. “I’m beautiful…”

The hand playing with his nipples reached up, snaking around his neck.

“Watch me play with you.”

Terzo looked down. His dick looked pinker clutched in Omega’s dusky purple hand, glistening with precum. His face became hot.

“Tell me how pretty your cock is,” Omega whispered in his ear with a grin.

Terzo whimpered. “My… Haah… My cock… Is pretty…”

“So pretty,” Omega repeated, nibbling his earlobe, his breath hot against Terzo’s neck.

Terzo’s eyes were glued to Omega’s hand. It steadily increased pace. The sight was salacious, exciting Terzo in a way he had never felt before. He moaned, pressing his arm against the mirror to hold himself up as his legs felt weaker. He glanced at his own eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” Omega murmured.

“I… am… beautiful…” Terzo whined.

“I love you.”

His body flinched harshly, and he came on himself. He was in bed again, eyelids fluttering, gasping for breath. Lying in his own filth.

Terzo opened his eyes.

No Omega. No mirror. Just himself and his mess. Alone.

It was only a dream.

buy me a kofi <3

[iamthecomet]

18 for the smut prompt? maybe phantom/Aether’s first time together?

love you comet you’re awesome <3

18. "Don't you dare fucking cum, because if you do, I'll cum too." ♥♥♥♥ "Aeth--" Aeon's voice cracks, breaks, the rest of Aether's name chokes off, vanishes. Aether can barely stand to look down at him. Aeon's a mess. Blue black hair plastered to his forehead. That shock of white standing up nearly straight from the way he keeps fisting his hands in it. Cheeks blushed deep purple. Eyes so blown out there is no violet left in them. Just the black void of space. Aether's breath hitches in his chest when Aeon claws at him. Digs his fingers into Aether's pecks, curls his legs tighter around Aether's hips tries to pull him impossibly closer. He's as deep as he can go. Buried in Aeon's lithe body. Aether feels every twitch, every clench in visceral detail. He can't look down at Aeon anymore, because if he does--he's going to cum. And he's barely been inside of him for three minutes. He tests out a roll of his hips. The way Aeon winds goes straight to his cock. Kicking and leaking, knocking against Aeon's prostate in a way that makes the little ghoul jolt. Aether's in trouble. "Aether--Aeth--Can you touch me? Please, I want to--I need to--" Aeon babbles, words falling uselessly from his mouth. Kiss swollen lips falling open as Aether starts to move, tentative. Worried that even the smallest twitch is going to end all of this far too soon. Aether doesn't answer him, doesn't touch Aeon. He can't. He can't. He's too close, too keyed up by all of their teasing, their foreplay. The way Aeon looked at him across the room as Aether showed him a few songs on the guitar. Those dark eyes pinned to Aether's thick fingers. Aeon reaches for himself, brushes his fingers over the sticky head of his cock and shudders. He flutters around Aether. He curls his fingers around the head and twists and those flutters become more intense, rhythmic. Aether digs his teeth into his cheek. He bats Aeon's hand away and grabs both of his wrists, he pins them above Aeon's head in one big hand and tries to think about anything besides how good he feels. Aeon makes a small startled sound, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. It takes Aether a second to find his voice--when he does it comes out rough, gravel. Desperation coloring each syllable. "Don't you dare fuckin' cum" he punctuates it with a thrust that drives Aeon up the bed, makes his eyes roll in his head. "Because if you do I'll cum too." "Why is that a bad thing?" Aeon manages between thrusts. He digs his heels into Aether's ass and tries to pull him deeper, suck him in. Aether groans. "I've waited a long time for you," Aether admits. "I want to savor it." He squeezes Aeon's wrists a little harder, fucks into him with a little more force. "Not until I say. Promise me." Aether doubts it's a promise Aeon can keep given the way he's still clenching around him. But Aeon nods anyway, eager to please, to be good. "I--ah--promise. Not until you say."