#then amused at the whole thing because it's very silly

[lizardlicks]

A little annoyed, amused, and relieved every time I see someone else's take on Avatar Sokka and it doesn't match mine.

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

[leonsgfpost]

note: sorry if this isn't very good, and sorry too if there are any mistakes. Just make sure to enjoy, you know haha 💞

tags: smut, oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism (?), Leon RE2 x f!reader.

The dates with Leon are always the best. Like now, when he smiles at you in the sweetest way and you walk hand in hand through the crowd that also gathered to enjoy the annual amusement park in Raccoon City.

And he's so attentive, buying you cotton candy, winning the stuffed animals on display at the little fairground rides and buying everything you look at for more than two seconds. Because he thinks you're the prettiest girl and deserve to be spoiled.

And so, that's how Leon completely empties his wallet on you. But he doesn't care, because he works hard to always spoil you, even if you complain that it's too much. It's never too much for him.

After clinging to his arm in the gentlest way, saying your legs hurt and you wanted to go home you both walked to his truck. You with your arms full of silly stuffed animals and shiny treats, and him with the thing he loves most in the whole world, you.

But quickly, you can't help but put your hands on him, putting aside all his gifts because Leon was cuter anyway. And you just wanted to thank him, so.... What better than to suck your boyfriend's dick in his truck parked behind the fair?

"Baby, wait..." Leon murmured, his face red and his head bobbing from side to side from the pleasure of feeling your pretty little mouth stretching around his cock. Wet sounds beginning to fill the space.

His fingers moved through your hair, gripping it gently to help you. Your eyes lifted to him, as you choked on every inch of his length. Your saliva dripping down to his balls, it was a sight worthy of those porn cassettes at the end of stores.

"S-Slow down." Leon groaned, struggling to keep his eyes open so he could watch you suck his cock like one of those ice cream sundaes you loved to eat so much. His hands wouldn't stay still, struggling not to sink his head deeper and fuck your throat. But he fails pathetically when he starts lifting his hips to chase your movements.

And when you pull away so you can breathe, he lets out a pained moan lamenting the loss. You wrap your hand around him as you take a break, maintaining eye contact. Your eyelashes wet from exertion swinging in his direction, the cute summer dress you put on was crumpled and the straps falling down your shoulders, your pretty little face inches from his raging cock and Leon can't keep his feet on the ground.

His hand rests behind your head, trying to persuade you and draw you closer once again.

And how could you say no to that cute expression on his face? Eyes heavy with pleasure, lips half-open and his blonde hair misaligned from swiping so many times. Your tongue cleans the pre cum from his tip and you let out a soft hum, sinking deeper to the base relaxing your throat around it. Leon's hips can no longer stay still, desperately trying to fuck your throat because he loved the disgusting sounds coming out of your mouth. His fingers run through your now tousled hair and his moans start to get louder, feeling the sensation forming in his belly.

"God, baby... Don't stop, D-Don't stop-" He begged desperately, losing the thread of his words. His delicate grip became strong, forcing you down and up on him.

"I'd marry you and your pretty little mouth..." And you know he's close by the way he starts to ramble, his words coming out clumsily and slurred. His brain short-circuited, feeling his cock begin to throb and writhe in your wet mouth.

"L-Let's get married, I'll put a nice ring on your finger." He stated, and you couldn't help but let out a chuckle around him rolling your eyes. He would definitely go silly if you sucked his cock as well as you knew how to do.

"Do you like the idea? Y-Yeah? Baby, please." He asked, turning his head back in the seat. And you could answer, if you weren't gagging on every inch of his cock and drooling around it shamelessly. His hips buck hard and you dig your fingers into his thighs hard trying to support him, breathing through your nose as small tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

Leon opens his eyes for a few seconds, to appreciate the view in front of him. And he curses a few counts, plunging your head all the way down to the base and lifting his hips to completely empty his balls down your throat. He lets out a loud groan, arching his back and finally lets go of your head, listening to you cough.

He looks up at you with tears in his eyes, admiring how little strands of his fluids leak from your shiny lips and his thumb lifts up to wipe it away with an idiotic grin on his face.

"My pretty girl, look at you." He mumbled, still dazed. His hand rested on his cheek and he pulls you close to kiss you messily, pushing his tongue into your mouth even though you were choking around him seconds ago.

Yes, you two were disgusting. But you were disgusting in love.

hey, thank u so much for reading! Let me know if you liked it! 🎀

(💌) bye, bye !

[indecisivemuch]

~ Titles ~

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You are determined to steal the title of best swordsman from Luke. You proposed a spar, which led to unsuspecting confessions and an alternate proposal/offer. (fluff, pining, playful rivals to lovers, happy ending)

Warning: some sexual innuendos but nothing explicit. Violence? (you two sparred).

Note: he’s like one of my only age appropriate crush if I’m honest LMAO. The others are all much older 😭

Word count: 4k

You wanted many things. You wanted glory, you wanted to have the highest winning streak to capture the flag, and you also wanted Luke’s head on a stick…sometimes. 

Oh yes, Luke has heard it all from your pretty mouth, and it does not get less amusing every time. In fact, the whole camp seemed to enjoy the banters between the two of you. At one point, it escalated to bets among campers on whether you or Luke would win against one another in things. Initially, both of you were shocked at the discovery. But when the surprise wore off, both of your competitiveness only amplified. Capture the flag became your guys’ war zone, and even silly things like who could finish chores quicker was a competition.

However, despite the rivalry being kind of playful, there was one thing you swore your heart upon winning - Luke’s title.

“Ah, well, if it isn’t the best swordsman,” you greeted as you spotted him approaching.

“If it isn’t the best flag captor,” indeed, you were always assigned to snag the flag due to your combat skills.

“And soon to be the best swordsman,” you added.

“You keep saying that but haven’t even gotten close.”

“I’m literally the second best.” The second those words left your mouth, you wished they didn’t. From the number of years you’ve known Luke, you could very well predict what he was going to say next, and because of that, you realized you just walked straight into his trap. You glanced up at the boy, only to see him already cheekily peering down at you with twinkles in his eyes - the sweet look of victory casting over his face.

“Ah, yes…second best,” the smugness interlacing Luke’s otherwise swoon-worthy voice made you scoff.

You never actually hate Luke, but neither were you two friends who hung out. You both were in different friend groups, rarely in the same space without making a quick remark or two, though they were all interlaced with a humorous undertone. There was a thin line between rivals and somewhat friends that you both mingled on without crossing. You would never tell him or admit it out loud, but Luke played a huge part in shaping who you are today as a Demigod. He constantly challenged you, which pushed you to take steps to become better. Over time, you two even slipped into a routine. You were each other’s sparring partners and, strangely enough, each other’s choice when it comes to quest partners.

You remember the first time Luke did it. Three years ago, you used to believe that he genuinely hated your guts and loved making fun of you for his own amusement. So when Chiron asked Luke to pick two companions for his quest, he named you without an ounce of doubt in his voice. You almost had a whiplash looking over at the boy who just called out your name.

“Not for long,” you settled on replying after rolling your eyes.

When you glanced back at him, Luke was giving you the look. The one where his lips were sculpted in a challenging and somewhat arrogant smirk, contrasting with the soft gaze that would always pair with it. It was as if he wanted you to know that despite his annoying habit of riling you up, he’d never cross any line that you would not let him, and he’d never push any buttons that you’d say were off limits. It was charming and sweet in a sense, though your mind dismissed that belief every single time and blamed it on your heart for being delusional. However, boy oh boy, your body reacted to it like Zeus has personally struck you with thunder every single time. Your lungs would collapse and malfunction for a second; your eyes would hold still and at him as if turned to stone by Medusa; your tongue seemed to have been frozen; your voice as if taken by Ursula. But amidst that mess, your heart would be beautifully embracing this feeling that it was harboring. It was something you never acknowledged or wanted to label because you knew it would be put into the universe as soon as you did that.

“I have a proposal,” you said, after forcing yourself out of that flustered state. 

“I’m listening,” Luke crossed his arms, and you almost gulped at how they bulked up when he did so.

“We spar. If I win, I get the title of best swordsman. You win, you can get anything you want,” you named the terms.

“Anything?” Luke asked, tilting his head with amusement twinkling in his eyes as you confirmed by nodding. “Ok, deal,” he drew a hand out, prompting you to shake it, which you mindlessly did. Little did you know, Luke did it on purpose as an excuse to hold your hand, even if it was for only a split second. 

It was sort of pathetic, and Luke knew it. But there was nothing else he could do. The only way he could ever touch you was either small actions like handshakes or getting punched by you. The latter happened more frequently as the two of you sparred together more. The both of you didn’t make a habit of hurting each other, but it was bound to happen when practicing combat. 

As toxic and insane as it sounded, Luke was somewhat addicted to the infrequent pain that you were inflicting on him. One, because he got to feel your touch, albeit it was aggressive. Two, the worried look on your face - the closest he thought he would feel to you caring about him as much as he cared about you. Three, waking up the next day with purple bruises left by you, which, to him, was the only substitute for the type of purple marks he wanted you to leave on him.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you retracted your hand and got into position.

“Don’t you wanna know what I’d get if I win?” something in Luke’s eyes told you that whatever he had in mind was pure trouble, and he knew you had this urge to know everything. So you purposefully ignored asking about it.

“I don’t need to know, ‘cause that won’t happen anyway,” as you turned away, Luke let out a chuckle as his eyes softened at the sight of you. He knew that you know of the fact that he knows you well. Years of bantering and shy glances over your way when you weren’t aware has also taught him many things about you. Like how you prefer tabbing over highlighting your books, or how you’d always strike on the side first when combating others but would always change it up when it comes to him, or that your smile slightly tilted to the right when you are genuinely happy, or the fact that your love language was act of service because you were always going out of your way for the people you love.

At a far enough distance, you finally turned back at Luke but was caught off guard when you saw his sword already swinging at you. Years of practice forced your reflexes into action, and you caught his sword midair with your own.

“Woah, we never agreed that it started,” you yelled, pushing him and his sword away from you and yours.

“Do monsters wait for you to be ready during quests, sweetheart?” The mocking tone should not be affecting you the way it did, but it elicited this feeling of sheer annoyance and unleashed a hunger for victory. Luke got into a fighting stance as well, “Well then, ready whenever you are.”

You practically swung at him, and your swords clashed at an alarming rate to outsiders. But you two were experts at swordsmanship. Every move was quick and with ease. However, as Luke predicted, your eagerness to win was eroding your strategic senses. Taking advantage of this, he was planning to strike your armor next, aiming to create a mark on it. But you unexpectedly dodged down, and he was not prepared enough to change his course of action. 

Within seconds of a gasp escaping your lips, Luke halted still as his jaw dropped in horror upon realizing what he had done. He called out your name, trying to come nearer to inspect the consequences of his action.

Thunder started sounding as the gray clouds finally cast water upon you two. You traced your hand along the mark that was left on your cheek, eying the blood that was now on your finger. As raindrops landed on your hand and diluted the substance, you realized your attacks in the last five minutes have been too impulsive and you needed to keep your emotions at bay.

“Y/N?” Luke called out again, though it reeked a new level of worry this time. Luke was afraid he had crossed a line. Despite sparring many times in the past, Luke had never caused harm to your face before. In fact, he has always been careful to minimize the injuries he would inflict on you.

Luke held back the urge to rub his hand over where his heart would be to soothe it as his mind wandered off to the possibility of you hating him genuinely and never wanting him around again. He never told you, but the reason he trained so hard to become the best swordsman - apart from for glory - was for you. He knew you were also good at it and hoped the title would make you notice him. 

You averted your attention back to him and drew your sword up again. 

“What? You’re scared you won’t be the only one who looks good with a scar on their face anymore?” you asked, arching your eyebrow.

“Oh, so you think I look good with the scar?” Luke bantered back, though you could tell there was an immense relief that he was feeling. Taking advantage of his distracted state, you struck again, but he managed to dodge just in time.

The fight went on for another twenty minutes. You were too focused to see, but Luke was surprised by how you chose to attack him this time. However, you miscalculated Luke’s next move and had to abruptly try to dodge his attack. But by taking a step back, you gave him the perfect chance to strike. Within seconds, he managed to disarm and send you to the ground. 

Like the last thousands of spars, the tip of his sword ended up near your throat as an indication of checkmate. You knew you could make no more moves - definitely not without your sword. You lifted both hands up slightly in a motion of surrender, biting the inside of your cheeks as you peered up at him. 

Right now, sweat and rain were dripping down the side of Luke’s face. They rolled down his scar - that goddamn scar that never failed to make you go borderline feral with visions of the kisses you’d bless them with if you were given the chance to. His dark, wet curls were clinging onto his forehead, and the same colored eyes gazed down at you. They were so cocky, almost condescending, yet so hot it made you want them to be kept on you forever. 

You hated to admit it, but he looked so hot fighting you were willing to purposefully lose sometimes.

Little did you know, it drove him to the wall that you were peering up at him like this: cheeks flushed, heavy breath, and those goddamn eyes peering through your pretty lashes that could convince him to do absolutely everything you’d ask. The sight of you made Luke want to spill his guts and tell you everything he had been locking up inside his mind.

He extended one hand out to help you up. Like always, you accepted his offer and got up from the ground.

As you were about to let go of Luke’s hand, he slightly tightened his grip, and your heart fluttered at the action. He was staring at your guys’ hands in deep thought before softly rubbing his thumb across your fingers and knuckles. The way Luke delicately did so vastly contrasted with how he was fighting you during every spar. For a second, you wondered what it would be like to be loved by him and be held so tenderly.

“It’s okay, you know…” Luke spoke, breaking the peace from the sound of rain hitting the soil beneath them.

“What? Be defeated?”

“You may be the second-best swordsman in this camp-”

“Geez, thanks for reminding me that I’m only second best,” you playfully commented.

“But you’re first place...in here.” Luke pointed right at his heart using the hand that was not on yours. You stare at it with your mouth slightly agape.

“Stop playing around with me,” you almost stuttered, refusing to believe Luke was not trying to fool you for a quick laugh.

“I’m not,” Luke rebutted and pulled your hand towards his chest, causing your heart to flutter at the action. But unlike that small kick in your heart, when your palm lay between Luke’s hand and his heart, you could hear his heart beating like an engine that had lost control. Your jaw fell agape at the contact and the speed of his heartbeat. When you looked up at him, the earnest look on Luke’s face made you know that whatever he was planning to say was indeed from his whole heart.

“Third week at camp, I got knocked down by this much older kid during capture the flag, who wanted to maim me for some reason. You swept in, pushed him into the lake nearby and pulled me to run away with you before that kid could get out of the water and chase after us. It felt like I was lovestruck or something, but I could not keep my eyes off you after that. Somehow, you always draw my attention in any crowded room,” Luke blushed at his confession, shyly avoiding eye contact with you. “But after that, I think you sort of forgot who I was because you weren’t acknowledging me at all, and so the fifteen-year-old me thought maybe I needed to throw sarcastic remarks or say stupid things to make sure that my crush would remember me and know that I exist. Hence-”

“The banters,” you finished off for him. 

“And the rivalry. It’s pathetic, I know,” Luke added.

You were in awe of viewing things from Luke’s perspective. Because from your side, you did remember that day very vividly. The reality was you were too nervous to interact with the boy again after the incident, growing shy at the thought of talking to a cute boy. So you pretended that nothing had happened.

“Fast forward to when I returned from that quest that gave me the dragon scar. People weren’t exactly different, but I could feel that they were somewhat tiptoeing around me as if I was…damaged,” Luke’s eyes hollowed for a second, and you could see that he was being sucked back into the memories. But his absent state of mind didn’t last long, and his eyes lit up again as the boy continued, “But you were the one thing that did not change. You didn’t treat me any differently. Your remarks and blunt insults became fresh air for me. I never told you, but every time we interacted back then - every time you talked to me, insulted me, or even looked at me, it felt like…I could finally breathe in that suffocating time period. Seeing you suddenly became necessary, and I think that was when I realized…”

With your hand on Luke’s chest still, you could feel his heart start beating even faster, if that was possible, as if trying to break free from his ribcage. 

“I think that was when I realized I was in love with you,” Luke’s words came out as a whisper, like an oath too sacred to be said out loud. That is not to say he wasn’t afraid to shout it out from a rooftop. Luke just wanted his first time saying it to be for your ears only. For every single time after, Luke would make sure that his words and actions were heard loud and clear to you and others, if you would let him.

You almost could not believe your own ears. For the first time ever, you saw Luke look so vulnerable. He was usually so sure of himself, almost always overly confident whenever he was around you, just to irritate you with an inflated ego persona. But right now, it felt like the curtains were closing, and nothing was left but him with his heart in hand.

This was who Luke Castellan really was - under all the armor and titles.

And he was in love with you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but words froze. You weren’t sure what to say because you believe that whatever it is you utter out wouldn’t be able to top Luke’s words. You frowned as the sparks in Luke’s eyes dulled slowly. You could feel his hand keeping yours on his chest slipping slightly. At this, you flipped your hand around to hold his in place.

“Eleven months after you arrived at camp that I…” you paused, gulping as you tried to find the words, “This boy, he tore my favorite book apart because I defeated him during a spar and “embarrassed him” in front of everybody. He’s an absolute coward, too, because he brought his buddies along, knowing he would have never won one-on-one against me. So, he had his friends hold me still as he punched me in the face and stomach repeatedly.” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed at the story. Of course, he remembered the incident. He only wished he had been there when it happened rather than in the aftermath.

“You found me bloody and bruised while I was heading to the infirmary. I was convinced you hated me back then because of all the sarcastic remarks I thought were genuine insults. So I thought you would just ignore me. But no, you stopped me. For the first time ever, I saw who you seem to really be: this caring and protective person. You were stubborn and determined to know what happened, even though I said it was not a big deal. Then you wrapped up my wounds in the infirmary wordlessly and would not leave my side until you walked me back to my cabin, where I finally told you who was behind it all.”

“Then, the next day, I found a new copy of my favorite book, candy, and new book tabs on my bedside. Later that day, I found out that his whole friend group, including him, had their hair dyed bright pink with dozens of bruises and cuts on them, and they could not even look at me. And I just knew it was you who had done all this for me, which changed how I see you - and us.”

“Is that why you left me your dessert for a month straight? After I lost dessert privileges for maiming those guys?” Luke asked.

“I did no such thing,” you tried to lie. Indeed, you were the mysterious person who left desserts next to Luke’s bed for the month after the incident. Even though you never told him, he knew it was you, and the look he was giving you right now conveyed he very well did not believe your denial.

“What I’m trying to say, Luke Castellan…is I think my heart might be a little too fond of you as well,” Luke’s jaw dropped slightly at your words. His heart almost spiked completely, losing a beat as if you caused him to flatline from bliss. Then, something glossed over his eyes, and you fully recognized it. The glint of mischief always presented itself before he said something cheeky to you. 

“You know, I think I’ll cash in my prize now. I did win after all,” Luke referred to your original spar deal. You huffed at his words and the cheeky grin he was offering you.

“Ah, right. So, what is it that you want?” Luke untangled his hand from yours and used both to cup your face slowly but surely. 

“Hmm, you did say “anything”,” Luke muttered as he glanced down at your lips, which made you subconsciously licked them. However, your action made him let out a quivering breath. Even though it was somewhat dark, you could still see that his eyes were dilated. You were pretty sure yours were as well. 

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Luke was holding your face like it was the world that he had in his palms.  

“Yes,” you answered almost without hesitation, and he smiled at that. “Kiss me, Castellan,” you tugged Luke’s shirt, pulling him towards you, and almost immediately, he clashed his lips against yours.

Years of yearning were unleashed as you two practically melted in each other’s hold. The rain only added passion to the kiss, like fuel to the fire. Luke lightly backed you against a tree with one hand at the back of your head, shielding it from hitting the tree trunk too hard. Slowly, his other hand trailed down from your cheek to your hips. There were so many words he was seemingly trying to convey to you through his kiss. It was as if he was making a promise upon the love he intended to deliver to you. 

One of your hands tangled in Luke’s curls, twirling them around your fingers like it was their intended purpose to exist for. The other was on his cheek, your fingers subconsciously rubbing over his scar ever so delicately, as if they were gold to be treasured rather than a blemish to be ashamed of. Luke faintly shivered at your action, growing ever so breathless at the way you touched him, wanting to scowl at himself for being affected in such a way. 

Luke pulled away first, and you could not help but grin at the sight of him: swollen plump lips, messy dark hair, and a hue of pink dancing across his face. He cupped your face with both his hands again before leaving a small kiss on your cheek near where he had split your skin and drew blood. 

“This doesn’t change anything, you know? It may not be today, but someday, I will get the title of best swordsman if it is the last thing I do. Me losing today does not mean I’m giving up,” you said, hands still playing with his hair lovingly despite the stubborn declaration.

“I would not expect any less,” Luke replied, though wanting to add ‘if anybody were to take this honorable title, I’d want it to be you,’ yet he did not utter his thoughts. You breathed out a chuckle at his words.

“And yeah, maybe someday you will get that title,” Luke paused, taking a deep breath. You could feel how his chest seemed to stutter as his cheek heated up. 

“But for now, will you settle with the title of being mine?” you almost swooned at his words and the smile that he was giving you. If only you knew, he would give you all the titles you want: best swordsman, best counselor, his, and - if someday you would ever want it - his last name, as crazy as it sounded. Hell, maybe he’d take yours. 

“Yes, only if you’d also have the title of being mine.”

“I’ll wear it with honor and never surrender it unless you ever deemed me unworthy of the title,” Luke replied, grinning down at you like he had no intentions of ever letting you go.

“Never,” you grinned up at him, hands cupping his face before drawing him into another kiss, sealing the deal of forevermore.

———————————

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[marzennya]

Notification: The peerless jade fairy of Cang Qiong's Mountain Sect is smiling! Looks like he's easily amused by his disciples' antics...!!! What a surprise!!! +300 Overwhelming Beauty Points!

Ok now for my silly little notes in fashion and other nonsense about this piece:

This is specifically Shen Yuan during the pre-abyss arc, mostly because I have a very, very different interpretation of him when he's already married to Binghe- Empress Shen is a whole other, much more decked out beast I will one day tackle.

His clothes are based on late Qin to early Han dynasty clothes for women, mostly because I can, and it seemed perfect for him; it's completely covered, and thus respectable and elegant! Nothing wrong to see here. It's also tight-er around the legs, which leaves things to the imagination...half of the mountain is definitely thinking about his long, slender, lily-white legs at any given time.

Is it technically crossdressing? Yeah, but it is a shitty Xia-Xia world, who's gonna stop me? Airplane? That guy would be on my side, actually.

The see-through outer robe is a flex, look at all that expensive fabric...just hanging off of him...a rich kid in one life a rich kid in all of them.

Binghe does his hair because he's terrible at it and can only do half-updo's or ponytails, he's too distracted by the mere thought of touching Shizun's hair to stop and think why Shen Qingqiu can't do it all of a sudden thankfully.

The hair, on a more serious note, is a bit more realistic to ancient-Chinese hair than an actual half-updo. Though it is more similar to late Han or Tang dynasties hairstyles than anything. Again, shitty Xia-Xia, don't play with me.

There's a little turtle in his fan because I think he'd be like awn that's so cute and either Liu Qingge or Yue QingYuan would be immediately like. I'll buy it!!! He acquires many-a-thing by simply looking cute and staring at it until one of them gets it for him I'm sure.

[plleeeepppyyyy]

Hi hi hi!!! If you're still doing requests, could you perhaps do Wally Darling and a reader that's always sleepy?

ofc ofc!!! very cute request! (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

(also mind u,, this was not the first request i gotten,, i jus got this one finished quicker (ﾒ﹏ﾒ) )

wally + sleepy reader!!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂⁂

•every time wally walks around you or sees you, he always sees you sleeping or on the verge of passing out. he finds it pretty amusing, don’t get him wrong he’s pretty worried about you sleeping almost every day. he’s definitely curious.

•he asks some of his friends first if they know why exactly it is why you do this, but they just assure him, “oh y/n is always sleepy!” that answer wasn’t good enough for him tho,,

•he finds you in the weirdest spots sleeping too, like this one time where you were just,,, laying on the ground while holding a plant. he watched you for a bit and just shook you up, he def walked you home as you were back on the verge of sleep.

•another time, you were gone for the WHOLE day, everyone was looking for you, poor julie was sobbing as if she lost her kid just already putting up posters of you,, but nope, howdy found you sleeping in one of the cabinets in his shop. how did you even get there?? you got a scolding for sure, how was that even comfy?

•wally took the opportunity to ask you a question, you were just laying your head on a table, again (for what seemed to be the millionth time) on the verge of hitting the hay. he asked you why exactly were you tired 24/7? he didn’t understand! it was just a silly concept to him, sleeping all of the time. even if he tried, he could never sleep with the house on his mind.

•you just simply replied, “why not?” wally hummed in fascination and watched you for the rest of the time you were about to sleep. but you were a bit talkative that day, so whatever came on your mind you talked about it to wally.

•after that wally admired how much you just didn’t care for much, you were just in your own little world.

•he DEFINITELY wanted to paint you too, you had no problem letting him. he just told you to sleep, definitely wasn’t an issue for you.

•he woke you up for,, maybe about a hour or two? and showed you an absolute masterpiece, you just sleeping. you loved it, and put it up on your wall. he still kept sketching and drawing you from time to time, i mean you were just still, a simple person to draw for sure!

•he also makes sure you don’t end up anywhere to crazy to sleep, its like he keeps tabs on you. its like if you were just walking somewhere, he just tugs on your hand and is like, “no, this way, silly!” he’s like a guide, making sure you don’t end up back into the river situation,,

•he totally wouldn’t mind if you laid your head on his shoulder; or anywhere on him honestly. he wouldn’t bat an eye if you leaned on him and just hit snooze. wally will continue talking to whoever, still making sure you’re fine. he’d rather have this than you accidentally sleeping on the roof or somewhere dangerous.

•wally finds himself giggling at the silliest things you do or say. like; why are you talking about hippos all of sudden? weren’t you just asleep?

•if he wants some quiet time to himself but not be completely alone. he def goes to you, maybe it’s because you’re sleepy but you’re just calm half of the time too. he also likes to ask you for suggestions on what to paint or draw next, you just mumble out the most random of things. you’re like a spinning wheel! to him at least,,

•you for sure were an interesting character in his book, so goofy. a good friend to despite you sleeping daily.

☁︎︎☁︎︎

romantic ver, ( ˘ ³˘)

•wally just adores you,, like why you so sleepy?? he finds it cute, you’re like a sleepy kitten 24/7. for some reason it makes him giggle to himself.

•definitely watches you 24/7, he doesn’t wanna let you go or leave you be. like before, he’s your guide to not falling in a brook. hell, he’ll even carry you around if you’re that tired. the neighbors look at you both and go, “oh look there goes wally and y/n!” as he just carries you around. :]

•theres always quiet moments between you two, you’re probably just snoring on his bed as he sketches,, well probably you. he always has some sort of art for you, pottery, paintings, whatever he can do, he did it for you.

•he’s also noticed how despite you being sleepy, you always try to make sure you talk to him. you’re just on the verge of sleeping yet again as you talk to him about this type of frog you saw early ago. wally really notices the little things. <3

•he gets all gushy and happy whenever you lean on him as a pillow or something. literally he just wants to grab you and just run away. but he keeps it in as he wraps his arm around you. even so, you can still notice the adoration in his eyes. a whole ass gentleman too, he WILL never move when ur sleeping on him. he shushes some people to, likee shhhh my boo is sleeping.

•to be honest, wally sleeps not so often, he definitely does more now that you help him. but whenever he just can’t close his eyes or anything, he watches you. and how peaceful you are, and he gets confused. how can you sleep so much? waking up to wally staring at you with those big old eyes is both scary yet endearing. you ask him what’s going on with him and hes just like, “you’re so peaceful, can’t help but keep this sight of you all to myself.” wit those big eyes,,

(≧◡≦) ♡

•ack,, okay so he for sure def whispers to you or something whenever you’re tired. he just perks his head to you and just whispers ever so softly, as if you’re already sleeping. even when you’re dead asleep he’ll whisper some stuff. if you’re lucky enough, you’ll probably hear him.

•SPEAKING of whispering and such, he def sings you asleep. as if it was hard enough for you to do so,, but still, legit you LOVE it when he sings to you. his voice is soo soft and listening to it is just, hhhhh, makes you malfunction at times.

•he still finds you at random places too, he quickly picks you up and just wakes you up. he’s all like, “oh, what are you doin here :)?” while ur kinda like ,, “hh”

•to him, you’re just admirable. even if ur sleeping in a not so fancy fashion, he admires how you sleep, even if you wake up all jus cruddy, he’s still looking at you with his big lovey dovey eyes.

•if you have any trouble trying to stay awake he helps you def, tries to at least. if you drink caffeine to help you out with it, he’s all for it. but makes sure you don’t over step it, can’t have his lover too hyper! he also tries to have you have a normal sleep schedule (if you want ofc) but if it doesn’t work than it’s perfectly fine,, you guys will find smth to help you out. ♡︎

•calls you snooze bug, literally he’s so corny at times but its cute . <3

•it’s just when it comes to you he’s so gentle wit you,, its very endearing to watch between you both.

•overall he loves you sm,, his sleepy little person. he’s patient with you all of the time, your sleepiness is part of the charm for him. wally wanted an excuse to carry you around anyway. ❤︎︎

____

okay this was rlly fun to do!! im prolly gonna do all of ur guys’ requests based on finishing it earlier than others if thats fine,, (٥⁀▽⁀ )

i also wanna thank all of you guys for giving me a LOTTA notes and positive feedback!! im glad ur all enjoying reading these as much i love making these,, 🫶

literally all of ur guys’ requests are so damn cute , can’t wait to have em all finished and have you guys read them!! (eventually)

ミ★

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Several therapeutic white boards were drawn on. Everyone reading was so good and normal about it. So were the characters, presumably.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Additionally: apologies to Adwen and Allmune on ao3, to whom I directly said I wouldn't do this; I lied. (Whoopsie).

Also additionally: Bonus fic snippet you may have missed

💚👻👽👻💚

“Are you hungry?” Danny’s new therapist asks, her fingers playing with her pen.

Danny shrugs.

Pretty quickly, they’d figured out that these sessions went…worse…when Danny was hungry. Hunger makes him upset. Being upset makes him want to speak less. Not talking ruins the whole affair.

“Want to talk?”

Danny shakes his head, and sprawls out onto the couch—he’s allowed to basically position himself however he feels comfortable in the room, and if he has a choice, he’d rather just hang out horizontal. Does it make getting back into his chair harder? Yes. Is there a lady with super strength right outside his the office door who is willing to pick him up at a moment’s notice? Also yes.

(It’s kind of silly, but, if his legs ever stop feeling so sore…Danny is. Well.)

(He’s kind of curious how tall he’d be if Diana held him piggyback.)

“Want to draw? Paint?”

Drawing is a high-stress activity. Danny tends to default to memories when he draws these days, and he’d rather not think about that right now. Finger-painting is another option, but it’s pretty messy…even if it would be fun…

Danny’s therapist (?) (he's pretty sure that’s what she is?) is a blonde woman, with a quiet face and piercing eyes. She’d probably be less intimidating if they knew each other’s language, if Danny’s being honest; usually these types of people try to talk their way out of being intimidating. Instead, Danny sits on her pinstripe couch in unbranded sweatpants and a thin white tee, and she wears a suitjacket over her tights.

It’s all very strange. It’s not more strange than his chaperone’s usual outfit of plate armor and tiara, but still.

“Want the language bócastréon again?”

…Danny hums in thought, hands crossed across his chest. He’s pretty sure they’ve tried building a thing that’ll detect his language, like, three different times by now, but every time it winds up like the Fenton Ghost Gabber: mindlessly repeating his words back to him, unable to make heads or tails on translation. At least these trials don’t end every one of his statements with I am a ghost, fear me.

Oh well. It’s better than nothing. Danny shrugs.

The therapist clicks the machine on from a switchpad at her elbow, and a blue holographic screen fills the air. Danny only spends a little bit of time batting at the display like a cat, watching the light play off his hands for his own amusement.

“Please begin,” the thing says, and the same text pops up on the screen.

“S’up,” Danny tells it, and grins when the little display starts its very, very, long, and very, very familiar, buffering process.

Danny already knows this isn’t going to work. He might as well have fun with it.

He talks about his day, he talks about his old bedroom; he talks about what he had for lunch, toying with one of the sucker-toys he woke up with ages ago even though he doesn’t know who gave them to him. He talks about his friends, because he loves them—not Tuck and Sam, who he’ll miss the rest of his life, but Mikey and Poindexter, and what school had been like for him. Quiet topics. Easy topics.

Normal topics.

…Danny isn’t’ sure he’ll ever have normalcy again, but…remembering it isn’t so bad either. He plays with his weird suction cup toy with both hands and he talks.

“…So I ended up getting stuck without the Speeder like a million zillion miles from the portal. I thought Jazz was going to kill me, since she needed it to take her girlfriend to prom the literal next night, so I had to run around for like forty minutes looking for someone to help me out— but at least Wulf was like ‘Ne estas problemo’ and he helped me sniff out the weird cheese Vlad had left in the center console of the Speeder the week before—“

The box beeps. “Lingvo identigita: Kryptonian.”

Danny bolts upright as fast as his limbs let him.

Danny was never as good as Tucker was with Esperanto, but—  But that’s Esperanto. Danny’s hung out with Wulf long enough, did enough Duodioma with the stupid little muppet bird mascot. The box didn’t call it the right thing, but—

—But—

The therapist looks at Danny, eyes wide. Danny can’t even look at her. He’s too busy staring at the discount-aisle Ghost Gabber.

“Diru ĝin denove,” Danny demands sharply. Say it again.

The screen automatically translates his words as he speaks—in Esperanto, and then into their own language, the two transcriptions populating side by side when Danny speaks.

At this point, the woman’s mouth is open. Danny would be right there with her, but—

Danny sits there, numb.

He has a language. A language that is mostly guesswork on his part and the occasional swears Wulf will teach him as a joke, but, still, a language.

A language made up by a doctor in Poland. In the eighteen…somethings. And these people with superpowers know it. And they know what it is.

And the therapist looks at him, stunned, with new eyes, as if she knows something new about him now.

…What the hell is Kryptonian?

*

There isn’t Kryptonian plural. Danny thought there there might be.

There isn’t.There is pretty much only one.

One. Singular. Kryptonian.

That feels worse, somehow.

*

Notes taken [DATE REDACTED] 2023, 22:37 UTC.

Participants are:

KE: Kal-El of Krypton, Codename: Superman. JD: Patient, John Doe, Codename: N/A. Patient file attached.

Note: Conversation was recorded in Kryptonian. Machine translation has been provided for convenience.

*Addendum: Yeah, I can get Jor-El on this, no problem –Supes

KE: This conversation will be recorded. Are you alright with that? JD: Conver…? KE: (Writing gesture) This talk. JD: Oh! Yes. KE: Good morning. My name is Kal-El, and I am of Kryptonian descent. On Earth, I serve as a protector. My title on Earth is Superman. JD: Superman? KE: Yes. JD: (Laugh) KE: Thank you. May I know your name? JD: (No answer) KE: Take your time. You may decline as well. JD: …I… (Pause). I do not… KE: That is alright. Do you have hobbies? JD: …What? KE: What do you like to do? JD: …I like to learn about space. I like to…when the fast child…we play games? KE: The fast kid? Impulse? JD: Impulse? (Incredulous) KE: That is his title, yes. JD: Why is his name Impulse? That is… Is that an insult? KE: I think he chose it? JD: (Stunned silence) KE: You like space? JD: Y…yes. KE: Tell me about it? JD: Do they not tell you about me? KE: I hear news. I have not met you face to face. JD: (Shrugs) KE: Not since you bit me, anyway? JD: I bit you? (Incredulous) KE: You were injured, and you were scared. I did not mind. JD: I am sorry! It was an accident! (Upset) I did not mean to! I do not remember— KE: It is alright, it is alright! (Placating) JD: (Cries) KE: Hey… (Touches shoulder) Oh, sorry. I should not do that. It is alright. My dog bit me yesterday, and my son bit me the day before. It is alright. You did not hurt me. JD: (Still crying, hard to decipher) You have a dog? KE: Yes! I have a dog! He is also from space. His name is Krypto. Here, I have pictures! (Takes out communicator)

*NOTE: pictures mentioned contain images of Superdog and Superboy(II)

JD: (Still crying) Are you supposed to ask me questions?? I have been here… I have been here for a long time. People want to know about what I am, and where am I from, and what I can do, yes? KE: Well…yes, but there is a lot of time. There is no limit. JD: (Wipes nose.) KE: All I am supposed to ask you today is if you have any allergies. See?

        *NOTE: List of potential allergens has been attached to patient file.

JD: (Takes list from KE) Allergi…? Oh. No. I am… No food makes me sick. I can eat all foods. I cannot take…there is a sick medicine. For a cough. I cannot take that. KE: Good to know! (Alarmed) I’ll tell your doctors. Do you like your doctors? JD: …Yes. (Shyly) They are nice. KE: Wonder Woman says that she already asked if you feel safe. Do you feel safe with your doctors? JD: I do. Everyone here is kind. I eat a lot. I get exercise. We play games. I take breaks. I see space. I do not worry here, unless I get scared by accident. KE: I am…very glad to hear that. (Chokes up.) My son is about half your height. If my son was far away, I would want someone to help him too. We only want to do our best for you, alright? Please tell us if something is wrong. JD: So I can fight? KE: Pardon? JD: I am meant to fight, right? KE: No, no—not fighting. Just healing. And resting. JD: And then after… I am supposed to fight? KE: No. No, not—you don’t have to fight. The only thing we need is for you to be healthy. We don’t need you to fight anyone. JD: Everyone wants me to fight. (Begins stimming with slime) There are many children here. They all fight. I am eventually going to have to fight. I know.

*NOTE: Slime was provided by Medical team for therapeutic use.

KE: (Pause) Who is everyone? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone make you fight, before? Is that why you were injured? JD: (Silence) KE: I am sorry if they did. That is not fair. You are not an adult yet, and even adults should not have to fight unless they enlist purposefully. You are a child. JD: No one thinks I am a child. KE: Who said that? JD: (Silence) KE: Did someone hurt you? JD: (Pause) I do not want to talk. KE: Alright. Can you tell me why you do not want to talk? JD: (Silence) KE: Would you like to fight? JD: I am good at fighting. KE: That is not what I asked. JD: There is no choice? When there are bad things and bad people, someone has to fight. I am strong—when I am not injured, I am strong. I fight. There are people who are not strong, and cannot fight. I can fight. I fight. KE: (Silence) JD: This is why you are healing me. KE: (Pause) No, little one. That is not why. JD: (Pause) Oh. (Puts down slime) Am I…am I going to be data again? Are you going to test my body? KE: (Puts face into hands)

[PAGE 1 OF 4]

[Interview is to be reviewed by Black Canary and Dr. Pranathi Russo MD, Pediatric Psychologist.]

*

“It’s bad!” Clark says with a watery smile, because Clark isn’t Superman at the moment—in Bruce’s home office, as private as a place as the world can get, Bruce is only Bruce, and Clark is only Clark.

When Black Canary had suggested that their debrief happen somewhere private where Clark felt safe, Bruce had known that there would be bad news. Still, he pours a mug of coffee that Clark will metabolize all the caffeine out of anyway, and pours a long, thick cup of the stuff for himself, and settles back into his warm leather chair.

“Tell me,” Bruce says, not quite Batman, but not quite Bruce either.

“Bruce, he ‘knows’ we’re going to make him fight. He thinks we’re healing him to be a child soldier.” Clark’s laugh is half joke and half derision. Bruce thinks that he understands. “He thinks we’re keeping him here as—like property, where if we pick up something dumped on the side of the road, we can fix it back up and put it to work. Like an engine, or, or…or like a lawnmower. It’s awful.”

Bruce skips the creamer and goes straight to the Baileys beneath his desk for garnishing.

On the one hand, Dick has been flying out in Gotham since he was a preteen. There had been no question about training him; training was the way one kept their children safe, the same way that Alfred had taught Bruce how to shoot as a child—no matter how much Bruce had loathed it at the time.

On the other hand, Jason’s death plays out in his nightmares in technicolor around…once every few months.

The fires. The flames.

(The alien boy found in a wrecked vehicle outside the Kent farmhouse, curled up in fear.)

Bruce thinks about Damian, and how long it had taken for Damian to understand he could be loved as a child who loved animals, and not a future prince of Gotham.

…Bruce passes the Baileys to Clark.

The Kryptonian won’t absorb any of the alcohol in any meaningful way, but he dumps the remainder of the bottle into his coffee nevertheless.

[p0orbaby]

Official Business

summary: who doesn’t like a bit of shopping?

warnings: nowt

a/n: could never be me. firstly im not rich enough, and secondly im terrible at keeping secrets

word count: 1.3k

-

It starts as a bit of a lark.

You’re bored one evening, halfway through a bottle of vintage Château Margaux that costs more than the average person’s yearly salary. You’re flipping through channels, skipping past the usual array of aristocrats grumbling about the decline of society, when you land on the Arsenal match. Leah’s there, of course, and you watch as she commands the field like a general leading her troops into battle. You’ve always admired that about her—how she seems so in control, so sure of herself, even when everything around her is pure chaos. You’re about three glasses deep when you think, I could buy this whole damn club.

It’s one of those ridiculous ideas that’s supposed to stay in your head, but a few phone calls and a meeting with some old schoolmates who now dabble in sports management, and suddenly, the idea isn’t so ridiculous anymore.

Suddenly, it’s very, very real.

You start sending emails and making secret trips to boardrooms filled with men who look like they’ve never kicked a ball in their lives, discussing terms and shares and God knows what else. The whole thing is absurd, like some kind of billionaire’s midlife crisis.

You manage to keep it all hush-hush because, really, who would ever suspect you? Leah certainly doesn’t. She knows you’re filthy rich, of course, but she’s under the impression you spend most of your time doing rich-people things, like attending charity galas and organising your pearl collection. She has no idea that in between afternoon tea and polo practice, you’re negotiating the purchase of her football club.

Which is exactly why, when you bump into her at Colney after one particularly mundane meeting, you nearly have a heart attack.

You’re not supposed to be here. You don’t belong in places like this—places that smell like sweat and ambition. But you’re here anyway because some idiot on the board thought it would be a good idea for you to meet the coaching staff, and now you’re walking out of the building, trying to look like you belong, when suddenly your very beautiful, very oblivious girlfriend is in front of you.

She looks at you with that familiar pairing of amusement and affection, like she’s not entirely sure what you’re doing, but she finds it endearing nonetheless. “What are you doing here?” she asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Oh, you know, just... supporting the team,” you reply, which is technically true, though not in the way she thinks.

“Supporting the team?” Leah repeats, raising an eyebrow. She’s in her training gear, hair pulled back into a ponytail, and you can see the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. You’re suddenly aware of how out of place you look in your tailored coat and Louboutins.

“Yes, well,” you stammer, trying to think of a plausible excuse. “I thought I’d drop by, see how things are going. Very exciting, all this football business”

“Football business?” She laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die because you know how silly you sound. “Right. Sure. You’ve been keeping up with the league standings, then?”

“Of course,” you lie. You have no idea where they are in the table. You just know that you’re about to own them, which seems more important.

Leah just shakes her head, clearly amused, and you think you’re in the clear. But then she asks, “Who were you meeting with? Looked serious”

Your heart skips a beat. “Oh, just some... business people. Nothing important.” You wave a hand dismissively, but Leah’s eyes narrow.

“Business people? At the training ground?”

“Yes, well, they’re... sponsors,” you say quickly. “Potential sponsors. Big money, you know. Thought I’d try to drum up some support”

Leah tilts her head, scrutinising you like she’s trying to figure out what’s really going on. You can practically feel the sweat dripping down your back, which is just great because this coat is dry clean only.

But then she just shrugs. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?” she says, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But I’m glad you’re here”

And with that, she jogs off, leaving you standing there, heart racing and wondering how the hell you’re going to keep this secret from her.

-

The next few days are a blur of increasingly absurd attempts to keep Leah from finding out what you’re up to.

You start volunteering more information about Arsenal than she ever asked for, throwing around terms like “4-3-3 formation” and “high press” as if you actually know what they mean. Leah just smiles and nods, probably thinking you’ve become some kind of obsessive superfan overnight.

You even go so far as to attend a match, sitting in the executive box and pretending you’re just there to enjoy the game when in reality, you’re mentally calculating how much it’ll cost to replace the outdated lighting in the concourse.

It all comes to a head one evening when you’re lounging on the sofa, pretending to read a book but actually trying to figure out how to sneak away for yet another clandestine meeting. Leah’s sitting across from you, scrolling through something on her phone. She’s been giving you these looks lately, suspicious, narrowed eyes like she’s trying to figure you out. It’s unnerving.

Finally, she puts down her phone and looks at you. “Okay, what’s going on?”

You feign innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting weird,” she says bluntly. “Like, really weird. You suddenly know everything about Arsenal, you’re at London Colney talking to ‘business people,’ and now you’re going to matches? You hate crowds”

You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. She’s got you there.

Leah crosses her arms, leaning back in her chair with that look she gets when she’s about to win an argument. “So, spill. What’s going on?”

You consider your options. You could keep lying, but at this point, it feels like you’re trapped in a comedy of errors, and the only way out is to just come clean.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “Okay, fine. I’m buying Arsenal”

Leah blinks at you. Then she blinks again. “What?”

“I’m buying Arsenal,” you repeat, as if saying it again will make it any less ridiculous. “The football club”

She just stares at you, mouth slightly open. For a moment, you think she might laugh, but then she just says, “You’re serious”

“Yes”

“You’re buying a football club”

“Yes”

“Arsenal”

“Yes”

She shakes her head slowly, like she’s trying to wrap her mind around it. “Why?”

“Because I can,” you say, which is the truth, but also probably not the best answer you could have given.

Leah finally laughs, but it’s that slightly hysterical laugh people do when they don’t know how else to react. “You’re insane. Do you know that? You’re absolutely insane”

“Probably,” you agree.

She stands up, pacing the room as if moving will help her process this information. “So all this time, all those meetings, that’s what you were doing? Buying a football club?”

“Yes”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you say, which is technically true, though you didn’t exactly think this far ahead.

Leah stops pacing and looks at you, hands on her hips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’m aware”

There’s a long pause, and you wonder if she’s going to be mad or just collapse from shock. But then she walks over to you, a grin slowly spreading across her face. “Well, I guess I should start calling you ‘boss,’ then”

You laugh, relieved that she’s taking it in stride. “Only if you want to. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘supreme overlord of all things football’”

Leah snorts. “Don’t push it”

You grin, and she leans down to kiss you, still shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” she murmurs against your lips.

“So I’ve been told,” you reply, pulling her closer.

[moonlightsolo]

could you do neteyam and a human reader where he compares the difference between the two of you <3

YES SO CUTE. thank you for requesting this i’ve been aching to write some fluffy stuff!!! hope you don't mind i wrote it in like a hc format

neteyam looooooves how small you are.

actually the boy is quite obsessed with it.

na’vi girls are tough, and rigid compared to humans

you’re soft and squishy and so tiny compared to him

he loves how you barely reach his elbow

so obviously the top of your head is his designated arm rest

he always compares hand sizes

mostly bc his hand quite literally DWARFS yours

he'll hold your hand and yours will disappear into his palm

he also loves how easy it is to carry you around

whether you’re on his back, or in his arms

and when you can't keep up with him in the forest

or if you're taking too long to climb over rocks or logs

he will sweep you off your feet and carry you around instead

he looooves cuddling with you

you can quite literally use his body as a mattress

or just tuck into his side perfectly

the boy adores you so much

and he is obsessed with kissing you

he can't get enough of you

his head is larger than yours but that doesn’t stop him from anything

your lips are so tiny and soft and cute

he’s kinda obsessed with your height but he enjoys to tease you about it

he holds things up high out of your reach

"neteyam! stop it! give. it. back!" you whine in annoyance, reaching up for your research sample that he has grasped in his hand. he laughs at how you hop to attempt to reach it, "i like this stuff. i think i might keep it actually.." he takes a few steps away from you as he watches the glowing liquid thrash in the glass beaker. your hands tug at his tail to stop him from walking away from you, "neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan! give me it now or i'm going to tell your mother!" the sound of his full name leaving your lips makes a visceral shiver run down his spine, but he gives in and surrenders your silly little glass back to you.

neteyam just wants to watch you jump and beg him for it honestly

he's a sicko but in a good way

he is also prone to throw you over his shoulder and manhandle you (sometimes)

whenever he gets the chance he engulfs you

like bends over and consumes your body with his just to hear you squeal

it’s amusing to him

he likes how you have to angle your head all the way back to look up at him when he straightens his back

kinda spicy, but he loves how his hands look on your ass

#neteyamisanassman

his palms knead at your butt but his fingers are halfway down to your knees

like he can't get over how tiny you are!

he also likes to watch you eat pandoran fruit & how small it looks in your hands compared to his

sometimes he stares too much which makes you a bit flustered

he enjoys how different your expressions are compared to his people

he can’t read you as well since you don’t have a tail or a pair of pointed ears

he always visits your quarters back in the scientists shack

because its the only place he can properly kiss you (make out with you)

since you need an oxygen mask whenever you go outside

seeing the boy on your human sized bed is humorous

he is so lanky and overall way too big for your bed

but he insists he is comfortable and sleeps beside you the whole night

his legs all tucked up around you and his feet hang off the end

and his braids tickle your nose whenever he moves

he likes to play with your hair

he is actually very skilled at braiding

he adorns your hair and braids with beads and random trinkets he finds in the forest

your hair is so soft compared to na’vi’s he just can’t stop

he even made you a necklace when he was trying to court you the na'vi way

he forced kiri to offer to braid your hair so she could secretly get the size of your neck for him

it was odd for kiri to offer to braid your hair when neteyam always does it for you, but of course, you agree to it. the na'vi girl sits you down on a bed of moss while she stands on her knees behind you. she busies herself with braiding two strands in the front of your hair and pinning them back behind your ears, "so what made you want to braid my hair?' you question as you twiddle with your fingers out of boredom, "just cause." kiri simply replies, but the tone of her voice alludes to something else. the gears in your mind go into overdrive, trying to think of why neteyam would put her up to this. then something soft wraps around your neck, kind of tightly. the feeling startles you, making you turn around to see kiri with a blade of grass formed into a circle the size of your neck. "what was that for?" you ask with a laugh. "nothing!" she shoves the circle behind her back, "turn back around! i'm not finished!" she hisses at you.

a few weeks after the weird fiasco with kiri choking you with a leaf, someone knocks on the door to your bedroom. you expect it to be norm asking if you want food, but it's neteyam. "oh hey!" you chirp happily and step to the side to let him in. he ducks under your doorway, and as he passes you he pecks the top of your head. "hi, my love." he moves to sit down on your bed, that creaks under the pressure of his large body. you can't help but notice a bag that crosses over his chest and rests on his hip, "are we going somewhere? is that why you have that?" you ask and motion towards the bag.

"no, no. i actually have something for you." he clears his throat, and turns his attention to rummage through the sack. you watch how the boy gulps nervously, and tucks an unruly braid behind his ear. his lips are pursed together in concentration, before he pulls something out. it's a necklace. a beautifully weaved one with three shiny blue stones as the centerpiece. "for me?" your face lights up when he nods at you. "i made it for you."

it fit you perfectly btw and you never ever take it off

he loves when you sleepover

he sleeps in a hammock so you can either curl yourself into his side or lay on top of him

neteyam thinks his only purpose is to protect you from the harsh environment of pandora

he knows your vulnerable from your size so he likes to keep an eye on you

especially when you’re researching things in the forest

you'll be with norm's avatar and max but...

he will silently lurk above in the trees

like a little stalker

just waiting for any predator to dare to attack his yawntutsyìp

(little loved one)

he dedicates himself to you completely

and after you two finally make your relationship official

he brings you to visit the tree of souls

as you approach the spiritual tree, the atokirina', the wisps or seeds of the tree, surround your tiny human body

indicating that the forest has accepted you

neteyam almost cries from pure joy

he practically treats you as if you're eywa herself

his deity, his goddess...

it saddens him that he cannot make tsaheylu with you

but he knows that you see him and he sees you

he just loves you so much honestly

everything about your cute lil sky demon self

[revelboo]

YOUR SERIES IS SO GOOD I FINISHED EM ALL IN ABT A WHOLE DAY AND A HALF.

I WENT OUT THE EXAM HALL KNOWING THAT A NEW UPDATE WAS WAITING FOR ME LIKE:

(All jokes aside I'm so thankful you're writing something so good like this and share it with us. Drink water and take care, author!)

🤣 Thank you!

Bad Idea Pt 9

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Helm tipped slightly to watch you eat while not being obvious about it since you sometimes try to hide the food he gives you instead of eating it, he works. But it does leave him to wonder what was wrong with the discarded food or if maybe you’re just much pickier than anticipated. Sliding a tendril across the desk, he loops it loosely about your middle, warming when you smile up at him. Using the graspers on the end of the tendril to lift your elbow a bit, encouraging you to keep eating.

• “Alright,” you huff, resisting the urge to swat at him as you tip the soup can up. He’s been hovering while you’re eating ever since you’d ‘accidentally’ dropped a bag of raw brussel sprouts over the edge of his desk near the wall. Because you know he’s trying, but also that he doesn’t understand human food at all. He’d finally stopped giving you nothing but candy, but his last attempt to provide for you had included the brussel sprouts, a can of lard, several cans of soup, a sickly gray, warm packet of hamburger meat, and several bags of dried beans and a case of water. So you’ve been living off of cold, condensed soup and water for the most part and trying to work up the nerve to actually give him a grocery list of nonperishable foods so he doesn’t accidentally poison you.

• Graspers running through your hair, he can feel your annoyance with him and wishes you’d just say why the food is wrong, but you’d just offered him a tight lipped smile and a very insincere ‘thank you,’ when he’d pointed at the small pile in question. Wishing again that he could make more sense of your convoluted thoughts than vague impressions and feelings. Setting the can aside, you lean into the tendril coiled about you and he wraps you more firmly to pull you closer to him. Squeezing until you huff at him and wiggle, before relenting but not relinquishing the feel of your warmth against him.

• Amused at his passive clinginess, you try to squirm your arms out of the coils and he allows it, helm tipping. His entire frame shuddering slightly when you seize those graspers and manipulate them open and close. Watching from the corner of your eye as his helm droops slightly, turns your way as you run a fingertip along the inside of a grasper and he shudders again. Ticklish, maybe? Since he’s always grabbing you, it’s only fair as you wiggle a grasper claw open and shut. Wondering how long he’s going to put up with it. Not long as his helm dips until he’s looming about a foot from your face. “What?” You ask innocently, sucking in a breath when he latches onto your hand with the graspers, apparently done with your silliness. Venting roughly at you, he tugs your hand up as his head lowers and presses your fingers to his visor and you wonder again exactly what if anything is underneath. Breath catching in your lungs as he slides the smooth, warm glass of his visor against your fingertips like he’s nuzzling against them.

• Do you have any idea how much those gentle touches mean to him? What they do to him when you stroke those soft fingers against him, dipping them into seams to find mesh, not knowing the effect your touch has. Or the thoughts those intimate touches spark. Making him curious for things he shouldn’t want. You’d only been a curiosity, so small and strange. He’d wanted to unravel and conquer the way your alien mind crippled his telepathy, but now he’s not sure what he wants with you, because those errant thoughts are impossible. Stuck unable to move forward and unwilling to let you go.

Previous

Next

[frvnkcastles]

I just know Frank would feel a different type of pride if reader got her nails done and got the color he suggested.😌☝🏼 He’s like “damn she actually took my opinion into consideration”

YOU PUT MY HEAD IN SUCH A FLURRY ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You involve Frank in getting your nails done, much to his surprise and delight.

Warnings: Implied sexual content, mostly just fluff, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: Okay this was supposed to be just a drabble but it kinda got away from me. Anon, you’re absolutely right, he would be so invested and he’d think about it nonstop for days. This was such a wholesome idea, I hope I made it justice <3

He thought it was so silly that you would ask for his opinion on the matter. You getting your nails done in itself wasn’t silly in the slightest — in fact, he enjoyed seeing you get all dolled up and more importantly, he loved how confident you seemed afterwards. It was obviously important to you, and he went out of his way to encourage it, either by driving you to your appointments or even paying for the whole thing.

But asking for his thoughts? He didn’t know what to say, stunned speechless as you stared at him sweetly and expectantly, genuinely curious as to what he was going to answer. He wasn’t stylish or fashionable at all, and he definitely didn’t understand the first thing about color-coding nor did he stay on top of the latest trends. So, when you wondered what he thought your next nail color should be, he struggled to come up with a response.

”Uh… I dunno, darlin’. Don’t wanna give you the wrong answer”, he replied while scratching the back of his neck, his current task of cooking for you on hold as he watched you smile up at him from across the kitchen counter. He knew exactly what your favorite color was, but he supposed that would have been the obvious, no-effort choice.

You chuckled softly, a little amused by his hesitation. ”There’s no right or wrong answer, baby. I just think it’d be nice to have something you picked for me”, you shrugged, insisting that it was just a very casual thing and not something he needed to start sweating over.

A sheepish smile crossed his lips. He was a big fan of your every-day outfits, the way you did your make-up, and yes, also your nails. He knew it mattered to you, so it meant a lot to him that you wanted to involve him in the process.

”Aight, uh, I’mma go with red. Y’know I fuckin’ love seein’ you in red”, he huffed, riled up at the mere thought. It was true — there was no color he didn’t appreciate on you, but whenever you were dressed in red especially, something in him just came to life in a whole new way. He had shown you his admiration multiple times, occasionally resulting in you being late to wherever you were headed just because he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

You blushed and nodded, receptive to the idea. ”Red it is. Think you can handle it, Frankie?” you teased, very aware of the effect it would have on him. He played it cool, though.

”Guess we’ll have to see, sweetheart”, he challenged you, grinning in that charming way that made your head spin every time.

After the lunch he had been making for you, it was time for your appointment and he made it his responsibility to drive you there, his hand on your thigh as he steered the car. And when you walked in the salon, he held your hand all the way until he couldn’t anymore, giving a look to your go-to nail artist.

”Take good care of my girl, yeah?” he requested, half-joking even if the look in his eyes was grave. You couldn’t hold back a smile, butterflies in your stomach all thanks to his protectiveness over you.

He spent the whole appointment seated in the small waiting area, and the sight of him was so endearing. He wouldn’t touch any of the magazines available, just sat there with his hands folded in front of him and his eyes scanning the area over and over again. Every now and then his alert stare would land on you, and it cracked his stoic expression each time, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you ramble to your nail artist about your week.

When you were finally done, you pranced over to Frank, smiling widely and waving your hands in the air with excitement. His heart swelled at your joy, and he tilted his head at you curiously, waiting to see what kind of a look you ended up with.

When he saw the red on your nails, surprise dawned on his face and his smile dropped — not because he didn’t like it, but because he was just that amazed you had taken his opinion into consideration.

”You went with red?” he asked, eyes wide as he met your gaze, so kind and soft. You didn’t really understand what the big deal was, and a little laugh escaped you.

”Of course, I did. That’s what you said, silly”, you reminded, and nodding to confirm, Frank chuckled quietly.

”Yeah, yeah, I did. Just didn’t think… I dunno, just a lil surprised you thought my opinion was that important”, he tried explaining his own surprise, his eyebrows knitted together as he observed the nails, his hand gently grasping yours. You let him take it all in, tilting your hands back and forth to fully appreciate the shine and the details, and it boosted your ego beyond belief. Your nails were a big part of your appearance, and it felt good that Frank always showed love for them, even if he didn’t entirely get it.

”Your opinion is the most important. And now, every time I look at my nails, I’ll think of you”, you explained shyly. Truly touched by your consideration of him, he looked into your eyes and closed the distance between your lips. The kiss was short and sweet, appropriate for being in public, but he hoped it conveyed just how special this moment was to him. And in case it wasn’t, he was already decided on kissing you a lot more at home.

”I’preciate it, sweetheart. Looks real good”, he praised, taking one last look at your nails. Pride surged in his chest — he would have never wanted to take your independence from you, but he liked feeling like he had some kind of claim you. A part of him was with you now, and while it wasn’t permanent, it was enough for him to feel particularly cocky. He had the best girl by his side, after all.

”My gorgeous girl, goddamn”, he muttered under his breath, finding the red incredibly attractive, and it made you grin.

Surely, he was going to show you just how much he liked it later tonight. And he definitely was going to ride this high for days.

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

will you marry me?

5 times remus has asked you to marry him and 1 extra.

tags: remus lupin x f!reader,, fluff,, angst,, no mention of the word y/n,, childhood friends to lovers,, mutual pining,, character death

first time at 5 years old;

your eldest sister was off to marry in spring and so naturally the whole house was buzzing with excitement and terror. and you, like any impressionable child, felt the tingles of something exciting happening before your very eyes.

lulu, your best ultimate mate as you so graciously dubbed him, felt this energy too.

or at least the many flowers and coloured envelopes scattered on the table, seem to ring some alarms for him.

“this table is too small,” he frowns, stopping his pretend chopping of the leaves, and looking longingly at the dinner table, filled with scattered wedding paraphernalia.

you shrugged, ponytail swishing as you move around him.

“we have to make room, my sister is to be mary.” you confidently repeated what your mum said to you in the morning. when you had whined at the lack of play space.

now you’re humming like it’s obvious, why you were given a child’s table and now have to play kitchen with one pot instead of four because of the lack of space. the confident pretence of a child to show they’re mature enough not to complain.

“why does she have to be mary?” he asks, his shoulder bumping into you, “i thought she likes her name hilda?”

you scoff, clearly lulu does not know of the way of being mary. so naturally, you being older (by a few months) needs to teach him. or else, however is he going to be a proper grown up?

“because she wants to be a wife. so she has to be mary first.”

“a wife?” he asks intrigued, “like mummy and daddy?”

you laugh, patting his head, “only mummies can be a wife, silly. daddies are hus-butts.” you stood straighter, having this conversation with your mum before. “mother says, you have to love first and then be a mary. so you can play with them even after dinner and eat chocolates and make children.”

he seems to perk up even more, looking at you. his eyes as usual, gleaming with obvious awe, “to make children? with what?”

you pout, having no answer.

you haven’t asked your mum this question yet. too busy thinking of how many mary’s there are in your town.

still, you try to think of an answer.

you don’t want to let lulu down, you are after all his only hope for knowing things.

luckily, you’ve overheard this one conversation last week, your sister moving after she becomes mary so they can begin making a family.

you raise your head, hand on your hip and your other pointed as if in a lecture.

you said in your most confident voice. “you enter specific rooms in the house, and always make sure it’s locked. and then you wait until you can come out with children. but you must only do this if you love them. that is the ultimate rule. or else it won’t work.”

“wow,” he breathed, he clenched his fists then, looking utmost determined. before screaming in glee and confidence, the only way a naive child could. “then let’s make children! be mary and then we can play all night!”

you clicked your tongue, disappointed he hadn’t comprehended. “but you should love me first.”

his cheeks heated pink, indignant, “but i do. i love you a whole lot! and i wanna play here all the time.”

you shook your head, grim. “we can’t.” sounding so heartbroken, as much as any five year old could sound.

because you’ve already asked your mum if you could make children with lulu and she said, you’re only suppose to do that if you’re a grown up in love.

you asked, what’s the difference? you were plenty grown. 5 is one hand after all.

and your sister said to you, amusement lacing her words, a grown up to take care of you and cherish you. someone able to help you and grow with you.

you look at lulu. his thin arms and his lack of knowledge.

certainly not a grown up. not a proper man who can be with you, at all.

“i don’t love you, so we can’t.” you say this huffing, now turning completely to your make shift pot and stirring the water and leaves.

lulu cried loud that day, wailing like a little kid.

and nodding to yourself knowing you’ve made the right choice. he is so not a grown up. even if his pinched face made you feel queasy.

your mum rushing over and asking what was wrong. when you told her, she laughed out loud, and hugged you both, brushing remus’ hair out of his tear streaked face.

and you wonder what was so funny when he looked so sad.

second time at 11 years old;

remy was horrified.

you realize this as he stares at you in a crazed panic. and as always, it was up to you to be strong.

“what do you mean by that?” puffing your chest out and stood to cover remy from potter.

“didn’t you know? kissing makes girls pregnant.” he whispered, loudly in the empty halls, scandalized as he went to look at your stomach as if it will inflate this instant.

you fight the urge to cover that area with your robes. willing yourself to be brave for the both of you.

“surely… that isn’t true.”

potter scoffs, offended to have been doubted, “yes it is, i heard a prefect say so.”

you feel remy grab the back of your robes in panic. the reference enough to persuade him. you almost roll your eyes, but instead sighed to calm yourself down.

“i ought to tell you lot to be careful.” potter looked at the both of you meaningfully, and inhaling sharply as a flash of embarrassment burns into your brain.

you weren’t able to will the heat of your cheeks to dissipate, before it showed on your cheeks. your face and neck warmed red. mortified that potter knows the secret kiss shared between you and your friend, currently pulling at your robes.

it was both of your first kiss, deciding to just get it all over with, so you both can know what was so special about it.

it wasn’t much.

it felt soft, and quick.

nothing at all sparkling or romantic, like others said.

“alert your parents immediately, else you might be kicked out. and i’ve grown quite fond of the two of you, you know.” potter nodded at you, looking as if he pitied you both before crossing his arms as he strutted away.

you look at remy fully now. he was standing too close and still holding unto your robes like a lifeline.

“did you really have to tell potter of all people what we did?” you scoff, crossing your arms and tapping your feet like how your mother used to do it when she was cross with something.

he seemed to shrink into himself more, “i’m sorry, he said he saw it, and pestered me into confessing.” he bit his lips to bleed. “i didn’t know you were gonna be in trouble.” he sniffled.

and you immediately cooled, reaching forward and pulling at his chin to stop his assault and softly rubbing at his bleeding lips with your robes with another click of your tongue.

“it’s fine, he already saw, nothing else we can do.”

“so, what are we going to do now?” he asked softly, he looked at you, eyes filling with worry and sadness. “what if you are? we’ll get in trouble, won’t we?”

you bring down your arm now, before breathing out deeply.

you try to think of why it wouldn’t be true, but the tone of his voice was making you worry endlessly too.

even though you know it wasn’t all true, because your sister kissed her husband plenty of times in the house and they don’t have kids.

and you were about to point that out to him. to reassure your ever warm, too soft friend, that james potter was full of it and to relax.

but remy stood straighter, his cold hands gripping yours tightly, so much that it hurts. now standing a bit taller than you. pink lips pulled into a straight line and eyes looking straight at you. soft brown eyes no longer holding any worry, instead with resolute determination.

“marry me,” he said, “i promise to look after our children and work.” he nodded at you, as if urging you to say yes. to trust him.

a look entirely different from what you remembered from way before, yet feeling all the same regardless.

the reason of proposal was ridiculous in of itself that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“i’m not pregnant you dolt, pregnancy doesn’t work that way. i assure you.” rolling your eyes in amusement. “so don’t you go proposing like some weirdo.”

he stopped for a second, as if startled as he kept looking at you. before leaving a shaky sigh, head hanging low.

“okay,” his lips in a wobbly smile, looking weird. “good.”

third time at 17 years old;

sirius had managed to sneak in a case of firewhisky in one winning after-party in the common room.

it was safe to assume that everyone was positively sloshed. if judging from the slurring exclaims from james and a red face peter barely able to stand and sirius laughing maniacally at something marlene has said to him.

and remus being the self-appointed responsible one, had taken it upon himself to maintain sobriety the entire night. to look after the three of them in the aftermath.

resolutely sitting next to you the whole night, engaging in a missed conversation about gossip and literature.

“still feeling confident you can handle these three blokes up in your room?”

he grimaced, already rubbing his temples, probably from regret and the james’ incessant off-key singing. “i don’t really have much of a choice now, do i?”

you laugh easy, “with the way james is attempting to strip, i think not. you did volunteer, taking responsibility and what not.”

he sighed rather audibly, over the soft music of the party that was already dying down. most of the attendees already settling into their respective rooms.

and you look at remus, slumped into the chair, and laugh to yourself.

still so helpless, you think. you guess you had to step up again. pick up the slack a little bit.

you try to trick yourself into thinking you were tired and miffed about it, but you find you quite like feeling needed. especially by remus.

whom of which seems to be way into being responsible now and being a proper grown up. one that follows curfew and plans his day.

he barely looks at you for help anymore.

he always has an answer to questions now.

as the boys depend on him for being the responsible one in their little foursome.

off to late night adventures and pranks. no longer the crying, awe struck, nervous kid you grew up knowing. makes you feel kind of sad.

“alright then,” you exhaled, “i’ll lend you a hand for dealing with the demons.” you stood up whilst downing your drink, a sweet concoction by dorcas.

he looks up at you, eyes looking bloodshot and tired. he softly shook his head, “you don’t have to.”

you frown, clicking your tongue and placing a hand on each of your hips. “i said i’ll do it, so i’m going to. now stand up and let’s go.”

he looked at you just a second longer and sighs looking away, a soft smile etched on lips before looking at you again. looking won over.

standing up, dusting the invisible dirt on his trousers and nodding.

he towers over you now, seemingly out of no where.

you realize this as your neck strain looking up at him. as you gather the rowdy, intoxicated boys back to the dorms.

something sirius was extremely grateful for and the others echoed.

“thanks for— for taking care of me darling,” sirius breathed hot into your face before pecking you on the cheek.

“yes, you’re very welcome,” you hummed amused, tucking his covers into his sides, making sure he couldn’t move out of bed.

sirius giggles, “it feels like being tucked in by a mum,” before looking at you serious, eyes wide and looking more sober than he actually was, as if realizing something.

“you’re the mum in the group!” he exclaimed.

“im the what?”

james overhears this and exclaims his agreements.

“oh you are! you’re the perfect mum size!” james said.

you turn to him, “and what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask hotly.

“you’re very caring and mum-like, and you scold like a mum too, sometimes you even talk like one,” peter mumbled.

you look at remus, giving you an amused look, lips stretching like close to laughing.

“this is going to be the last time i’m helping you lot, if you call me mum one more time.” you threatened lightly.

sirius hums loud like he doesn’t believe you, “it’s not all bad, not like you’re gonna be a single-mum. remus is gonna be the dad after all.” he said like he was so sure.

and james, of ourse, echoed his agreements.

“obviously,” james tutted from his bed, tucked in tight by remus.

“yesh,” peter slurred, “he looks like—remus looks like he knows how to read maps.” he breathes out, like on a verge of sleeping.

james gasps, “he does! remus is a map reading dad, nothing has made more sense than this moment right here. you are meant to hold a map in your hands remus, you’re a daddy compass.”

remus looks perturbed, eyebrows scrunched and lips into a tight frown. he shakes his head then, before closing each of their curtains, not even bothering to justify james’ quip. “night lads,”

“night dad,” sirius teased from his bed, before shuddering excessively, “never thought i’d say that again.”

you snort out a laugh before you could help it. “good night everyone.”

you look at remus, and see him gesture to come outside.

quietly walking out of their room and closing the door behind you.

“come, i’ll walk you out.” grabbing your hand softly and pulling you down the corridor to the stairs. dropping his hold just as quick as if he hadn’t meant to hold it in the first place.

“sorry about the lads, the lack of filter is unfortunately not the effect of alcohol but is just them naturally.”

you chuckle softly, rubbing your tingling palms on the side of your skirt.

as if you didn’t know that already. those three have already been a staple into your everyday life for majority of the year. they, quite frankly, grow on you like some persistent vine on a house.

“it’s fine, it was quite tame compared to the usual rubbish they spew most of the time.”

remus looks at you, barely able to hide the smirk emerging from his lips.

“don’t tell me you liked them calling you mum?” the teasing lilt in his voice impossible to miss.

you lightly push on his shoulders. “don’t be disgusting, being called their mum is weird enough. and you implying i like it just makes it even weirder.”

“well imagine being called daddy compass by one of your mates, it’s gonna be hard looking at james tomorrow morning i’ll tell you that.”

you laugh excessively loud at this, before covering your mouth sheepish as you remember the time.

you look over at him, up and down as if assessing, “but you do look like a dad who knows how to read maps. wears khakis all the time and has a moustache.”

he rolls his eyes at you, as you grin in mirth, “well does that mean you’ll do me the honours of marrying me to avoid the life of a single parent to three demon boys?”

you laugh, shaking your head, “not exactly selling your case to me, are you?”

“won’t you reconsider though?” he moans, like he’s pained but you see the glint in his eyes even in the dark dorm room stairs. “it is after all for the children.”

you know he’s joking, hardly a night of partying counts as anything like a proper proposal.

but your brain can’t help but supply the thought that he looked quite fuller now. arms looking sturdier, and harder. he is acting more responsibly, all the professors trust him.

he was almost like a proper grown up now.

and you remember the echo of the ultimate rule in your childhood.

you shake your head, and an easy smile spread on your lips. stopping at the stairs for your dorms, “over my dead body,”

and he laughs, the sound echoing in the trashed common room, “well alright, good night, beautiful.”

“good night remus.”

fourth time at 19 years old;

you knew james was serious about lily when you lot had graduated from hogwarts. but you didn’t know the extent of the seriousness until he said this after one of the order meetings.

“i’m going to ask lily to marry me.”

james had said this with such conviction, so sure and full of affection. you can’t help but feel awed.

he suddenly seemed mature. not like the doofus you’ve come to know and consider a confidant through these trying times.

but a proper adult, one who does taxes and knows how to set up an appointment for medical check ups and fights in wars.

james suddenly feeling very far away from you.

you feel remus shift, his leg pressing into yours. you look at him to see what he wanted, but saw he was just looking at james, eyes set hard.

you shook yourself out of your stupor. standing up abruptly, not meaning to leave the familiar press of remus’ leg against your thigh.

“that’s—that’s great news james, i would have never guessed you—oh you’re all grown up!” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and him wrapping his around your middle with a giddy smile.

“thank you, mum.” he laughs, the on going joke still running strong. you squeeze him extra tight and pinching his arm for extra measure. before pulling away. “i never thought you had it in you to propose. i’d have half a mind to propose to lily on your behalf.”

he laughs, a bashful blush resting on his cheeks. “i figured, why wait, you know? tomorrow isn’t promised, and—i think spending every moment together is we all can do. i don’t want to die with regrets. i love her.”

you breathed in deep.

sirius coming forward too and slapping james in the back before giving his own congratulations and then peter and then remus too.

you were happy for them both, truly, having found one another even in these difficult times was awe-inspiring.

and then you start to wretchedly wonder if you could have that too. if only the circumstances were a bit different. would you have been given enough time to find another? enough to love? enough to marry?

you find your gaze sliding to remus, how strained his smile looked and wonder if he’s thinking the same.

he looked back at you, as he always does, and smiles gently. less strained now. like he was resigned.

you try to imagine if the circumstances were a bit different and he would find someone to love. someone to marry.

you feel your navel, coil in a bundle of nerves. a tension in your neck making you almost irate.

he gestured for you to follow him out.

like being compelled and weak, you follow without a question.

the night air was chilly, and feeling some sort of static on your skin, like building an unnerving suspense.

remus just sat and gestured for you to sit beside him.

the seat was cold, and you sat rigid like ice.

it’s been a while since you’ve last sat with remus like this. the order keeping all your hours occupied, mission after mission. surviving by the skin of your teeth.

all the world has gone fucked now, it didn’t feel quite real some time—like some sort of veil has just been pulled over your head making you see things clearer for the horrors awaiting your fates.

and in your mind loud with noise and worry, you almost didn’t hear him.

“why don’t we do it?”

“what?” you turn to him, hoping his face show an inkling, a clue as to what he had said.

he looked at you then, eyes still so warm even with the atrocities he’s faced and eyes still so bright in the night. a twinkling light reflecting in his eyes making him look younger. prettier.

“why don’t we get married?”

you lean back slightly in shock, “what?” you repeated, because you didn’t understand. this came so suddenly, words weirdly familiar but the intent wildly different than from all the others you’ve heard before.

you looked at his eyes. searching, still, for a clue or something that might make sense because what?

he laughs, the warm, soft sounding one you can barely hear. but it was just the two of you outside and it was quiet and you were sitting so close, so you hear it—loud and clear. the sound making you feel warm. “is that so crazy?”

he looked like a boy, happy and hopeful. his leg was pressing into your thighs again. the pressure grounding you.

his hands fidgeting deep within his pockets.

“i think we work well enough.” he added, with a small smile.

you feel something in your heart stutter, “work well enough,” you repeated. “glad to know i reach your standards for a bride, sir lupin.” you almost scoff. masking the bitter simmer of disappointment of his reason. and the coiling nerves still tightly wound in your navel, feeling heavy, making it harder to breathe.

he shrugs, “well you know, a lot of applicants have been killing themselves to be chosen. i reckon you ought to feel honoured.” he grinned over to you, still joking.

you rolled your eyes, “of course,”

“yeah?” he perked up, suddenly sitting straighter, his knees bumping into yours in his haste to look at you properly. “you want to?” he seemed shocked, overtly so, that it makes you laugh. a heat blooming on your face at his apparent willingness to marry you before shaking your head to avoid any confusion.

“no to the proposal but yes, that it is indeed an honour.”

he deflates, “ah,” he said softly, before laughing like he was embarrassed. “i just—i kept thinking what james said, about tomorrow not being promised—and, i, well i thought—“ he clears his throat before continuing. “i thought i might see what the fuss was about,”

you nodded, “‘m afraid marriage isn’t so simple. you have to love one another for a start.” you added somewhat bitterly, looking away.

“so you keep reminding me,” he says, laughing awkwardly.

fifth time at 38 years old;

you feel as if your life was reaching a crescendo.

the night glooming, brooding like the sky knows to colour it of fear and nerves.

it was going to come down to tonight, so it seems. whether we win or we lose. the end or the beginning. all those families we’ve lost and the families we’ve created. all our hopes and dreams sacrificed into this one night.

“you feeling alright?” remus asked to your left.

the glooming sky somehow illuminating his face all the same.

“as alright as anyone can be when facing a dark wizard.” you smirked, shrugging.

he laughs, still sounding so warm and soft.

you feel his fingers brush yours. you had half a mind to remind him to get ready and hold his wand tight.

you notice how keeps forgetting to do that. opting to hold unto you, just like he did before when he was a child from another time.

he only offers a closed lipped smile, looking at you the same way he has always looked at you. his stare the most familiar thing, it might as well be a part of you.

“i love you.” he breathed. and your heart hammered, your world tilting on its axis. shifting the very fabric of your universe.

and he looked relieved like he couldn’t wait to hold unto it any longer. and then he repeated it. more sure. louder. affectionate. looking straight into you. his brilliant, soft, warm eyes so full.

you wonder when did his gaze start to look at you like that?

and then you see;

his eyes looking as it did when he was five, shining with obvious awe.

his eyes when he was eleven, with resolute determination.

eyes when he was seventeen, glinting with mirth in the dark crevices of the dorms.

the look he gave you when he was nineteen, looking so boyishly happy and hopeful.

and now as he’s thirty-eight, looking at you with so much love, and longing, and pain, and joy.

“when this is all over,” he breathe, “will you marry me?”

so much time has passed by now that you had once thought it was too late for you. too late with him. something you always thought but could never have.

he was now undeniably a man. arms littered with scars and unwavering confidence as he looks at you. but his eyes still glimmer and twinkle all the same.

the undeniable rampage in your chest, your eyes searching for an answer or a clue for what he’s thinking.

“i love you,” he repeats, and gazing at you with that familiar eyes of his.

and you laugh because you found your answer. so you’ll give him his.

“yes.”

extra;

the battle was brutal, bodies piled on top of one another. those too young to know what they even fought for. those for their own ideals. and those caught in cross fires.

but it was over. and the good guys won.

but with so many lost, people thought, how could i possibly cheer?

but there was this type of solace when you’re gone. there was no more pain. all those gone can only do one thing, to let go. at least that’s what harry thinks.

staring down at the family he could’ve had.

your limp cold hand holding remus’ equally cold ones.

he wonders if someone intertwined your hands, or if you simply died holding on to each other. never to let go.

he realized it didn’t really matter. you were both gone. forever, but together.

he thinks of the comforting hugs you’ve given him in the short time you’ve spent with him, and the many stories remus told. and in this fierce pain he wonders if you ever saw the shiny, glinting ring in remus’ dresser hidden away ever since he was eighteen.

[sugurouge]

— call her my obsession : ghostface! ex boyfriend! endo yamato x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, mask kink, slight stalking, hunter/prey, possessive topics, lovesick endo, lots of praise, marking, biting, public sex, pet names (doll, good little thing/ thing, darling, bunny, princess, sweetheart, he rambles), dubcon, yandere themes, slight strangling&asphyxiation, hair pulling, remnants of conditioning, toxic relationship, cunnilingus, rough sex, manhandling

summary: endo would do anything to please. even if you have scratched him out of your life months ago, he would never give up on the person he loves that easily. when will you learn that he lives to make you happy? maybe if he brings your wildest fantasies to life, you will let him in again. in the end, he is nothing but hopelessly devoted to you

wordcount: 2.8k | my kinktober masterlist

a/n: this is my piece for the tokyo station ghostface collab! i hope you will enjoy <3

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

It all began at a silly Halloween party. You showed up dressed provocatively, in a skin-tight black bodysuit and a laughable excuse for cat makeup, topped off with a pair of fake ears. It looked cheap, but in the best way possible, a pair of icy blues noted amused. His brave little bunny hiding in cat clothing.

Throughout the night, you felt his presence, like a chilling gust of wind that had shivers crawl up your spine. Yes, someone was watching you—someone hiding behind a rubber white mask. You saw many of said mask that night, but he stood out. The tight fitting black turtleneck, muscular build, gloved hands. Everything made him look too hot to be at this shabby party. 

He knew you were watching him, lusting after him. You were probably halfway gone the moment he first touched you. Strong hands hovered over your hips as you swayed to the playlist's songs. Despite the booming of the music, your pathetic mewl rang through to his very core. The tremble of your glossy lips told him all about the dirty thoughts that were racing through your pretty mind.

Naughty little thing.

How dare you leave him alone on the dance floor after eyefucking him as much as he did you? You were an open book, playing hard to get like the princess you are as your heels carried you through the crowd. Yet, that longing gaze over your shoulder was all he needed to keep following you. He could almost smell your arousal. The thought of your wet pussy made him salivate, made him miss everything you two once had even more. Sharp canines dig into his bottom lip to keep him grounded. 

He had to focus; he couldn’t lose you now. 

Not when you finally made it outside the abandoned house, moonlight casting you in an ethereal glow, making you look like an angel.

But where are you taking him? Why are you so certain he’ll follow you? 

With only one goal in mind, your feet follow the pathway until you reach the edge of a little forest. You can’t help the curiosity that screams at you to just give all this a try. Those scenes in horror movies that make you unconsciously press your thighs together, make you bite your nails until your old company pointed out your adorable reactions. It was embarrassing back then, realising that such twisted scenes turn you on, and even more so, the wish to be chased for once. You never expected this to actually happen. 

So this is all your own fault. Because of your stupid social media and movie obsession. What kind of idiot would actually want to play catch in the woods with fucking Ghostface? With a stranger of all things. Your ancestors would be so disappointed. 

The forest looms ahead, dark and foreboding, each shadow seeming to stretch out, eager to swallow you whole. Your breath quickens, heart pounding in your chest as you venture deeper. The moonlight barely pierces the dense canopy above, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor.

It all seemed like child’s play, until actual fear settles in your bones. Until your heels make your escape harder, getting stuck in the dirt or caught on roots again and again. The game has turned dangerous, as adrenaline surges through you. The echo of your pursuer's footsteps grow louder, closer.

He teases you with the cracking of branches beneath his heavy footwear, he must have an easy time stalking behind. “Sweetheart, where are you bringing me?” His raspy voice rings through the trees, as clear as if he were to stand right behind you—looming above your smaller frame like a starved wolf. Your mind races, torn between the intoxicating excitement and the creeping terror as a whimper seems like your pathetic answer to his question. You have fantasised about this moment, but reality is far more intense. The fear is real, and so is the man chasing you. “I thought you wanted to play with me as much as I wanna play with you, bunny~” 

How dare you try to get away from him?

Maniacal laughter echoes through the woods as Endo watches you stumble through the dark, refusing to speak with him, you seem unable to think. Are you really that scared? "Stop trying to run from me," he warns, impatience starting to lace his voice. "You were such a good little thing, got me all riled up. Now let me catch my reward."

The forest seems to close in around you, shadows dancing and whispering secrets as you desperately search for a way forward. But the footsteps of your pursuer only grow louder, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot mixing with your staggered breaths. Endo revels in the chase, the joy of witnessing your fear, and the promise of what comes next.

"I want the woods to hear your pretty moans, all for me," he nearly moans the words as he tears off the Ghostface mask to see better. His crazy blue eyes lock onto you, the moonlight illuminating his face, twisted with a mix of lust and madness all for you to see. 

You stumble upon the initial scare, heart pounding wildly in your chest. How? Why? Out of all the people in the world. “No backsies~” Endo warns, as you lose sight of him in the trees. Anyone, anyone but him. You hide behind a tree, eyes heavy from the tears you were fighting back now spilling free. The forest, once a place of curiosity for your dark fantasies, feels like a trap. And Endo is closing in on you. 

It’s an eerie atmosphere as silence holds your body still like a ghostly embrace. You are too scared to speak, move, or look. You should really be on the lookout for your surroundings, but your eyes remain tightly shut, tears seemingly unending as they ruin your makeup and taint your cheeks.

The stillness is unbearable.

Until Endo reaches you. His strong frame overwhelms you in an instant. Somewhere along the way he rid himself of the constricting sweater, freeing his heated skin to let his signature tattoos greet you. The sudden proximity of his body wraps a blanket of intense, nearly unbearable heat, around you. It battles the stark contrast of the chill that clings to your body. His hand grasps into your hair recklessly, yanking you back until you have no choice but to stumble into his broad chest. The tattoos that snake along his arms are suddenly around your neck, his fingers pressing into the delicate skin to successfully constrict your breath.

Endo hums cheerfully, much unlike the given situation, his sugary voice vibrates against your ear as he whispers, "Found ya!" The sweetness of his words contradicts sharply with the crude actions that follow as he presses you against a tree, his teeth bruise your shoulder before he nibbles along your neck.

His canines break your skin with ease as his nails dig into your hips, to perfectly hold you in place. You feel your body break beneath his strength, effortlessly being handled like Endo's favourite toy when he arches you into the tree, your ass out for his cock to rut against while he abuses your skin, littering it with love bites. "Fuck me, you smell so good, pretty thing," he murmurs while shamelessly inhaling your scent, just as sweet as he remembers. “I’ve missed you so much, you can’t imagine…”

Deep, raspy moans of your name and filthy mumbles are a haunting symphony of his deep love. 

He can no longer contain his excitement. The need to have you, to feel you, to taste you again reigns over him. Endo's large hands run along your outer thighs before moving to the insides to let his fingertips tease your overly sensitive skin. Greedily, he cups your pussy in his palm, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. Oh, he loves how much you leak because of him. He has no other choice but to rub in just how much your body reacts to him. 

You fulfil Endo. The pathetic cry that escapes your lips? Heavenly. The plea of his name? Delicious. And the nimble fingers trying to push against his strong hand? "Fuck, you’re so cute," Endo whispers in a most lovesick way possible.

But enough playing around. Enough hiding from him. Endo focuses back onto the task ahead, onto the flimsy bodysuit you’re wearing. Which is, by the way, so easy to tear, to conquer what he needs, just like that: His fingertips dig into the fabric between your thighs and the harsh ripping sounds have you jolt awake, have you pull away from his grasp like a spoiled brat—he hates brats.

"Stop putting up a fight," he murmurs, "You asked for this." The sharp sting in your scalp is a brutal reminder of your place as Endo yanks your hair once more, pulling you back into his grasp. Your head rests on his shoulder, his crazed gaze locking onto your widened eyes, fear evident in your pretty pupils. Two fingers pump deeply into your cunt, scissoring your walls to prepare you for his own twisted desires. "Look at you, clinging to my fingers like a cockhungry little monster," he chuckles, relishing in his own words and your ashamed reaction as you struggle to maintain eye contact. 

"Why don’t your pretty lips beg for me as well?" he whispers into your ear before his teeth graze your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "Beg for me to fuck you out in the open. Beg for me, come on, pretty girl, I need you to tell me how desperate you are for me right this fucking moment." His eyes widen with excitement, a manic grin spreading across his face, making him appear almost unhinged—yet, to you, insanely hot? 

His maniacal love brings back memories you repressed. No matter how sick his affliction was, it filled you like nothing else. And now that he’s back, Endo will make sure he never messes that up again.

This is all you wanted, isn’t it? The hunt, the chase, the inevitable claim of the prize. You nod quickly, lips pressed tightly together before they part again, though you can’t stop grinding against him like an animal in heat. "Please, fuck me, take me, I’m all yours, you won, I really, really wanna—" Your pleas are cut off by a high-pitched moan as he thrusts a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back from the intense stimulation, but a sharp spank to your arse drags you back to reality.

"Didn’t say it was enough—go on," Endo urges, his eyes searching your face, desperate for praise. "Can’t think of anything but getting fucked by you tonight. Please, please, please, I need you!" Of course you do. And he needs you just as badly. He knows you so well, knows exactly how to make your sharp tongue forget how to form words, how to make you chant his name like a prayer. The sounds falling from your lips fuel his madness, his eyes frantically searching yours for every scrap of affection you can offer him in this obscene display.

Your back meets the rough bark of a tree as Endo lifts your legs effortlessly, placing them on his shoulders as he kneels before you like a man devoting himself to his goddess. You barely have time to catch your breath before his mouth is on your pussy, his head buried between your thighs as he laps at your folds with fervour. His tongue, hot and insistent, drags along your puffy lips before pushing against your throbbing flesh, circling your clit with maddening precision. His groans vibrate through your body, and you clench your thighs around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging violently at the roots—just the way he loves it. He savours the shivers running down his spine, the tightening in his gut, the aching weight in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re driving me insane, doll," he moans into your pussy, his teeth grazing your clit until you jerk, too sensitive yet craving more. You could never get enough of him. Why did you even bother breaking up with him?

"‘M so close, can’t take more, Ya-Yamato~" You gasp, but he won’t let you falter now. You can take more—just a little more of his love. The pain you cause by pulling his hair only spurs him on, driving him further into his frenzy. Until you’re trembling against him, your legs shaking around his head under the relentless patterns of his tongue circling your clit. Your increased volume drives Endo to the brink of madness.

"God, bunny, you taste so fucking good," he mutters into your folds, the vibrations of his words adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans are like music to him, a symphony he could listen to endlessly. His fingers slide back into you, curling to reach that perfect, gummy spot inside while he devours your slick like a man starved. He pushes you harder against the tree, his free hand roaming your thighs, tearing your bodysuit further apart for easy access to everything he craves.

This is his reward, his obsession—his twisted love made flesh. And you, trembling and whimpering under his touch, are exactly where you belong.

You’re rutting against his face, pulling him deeper into your pussy, thighs squeezing around him, muffling his groans as your moans echo through the dead forest. Just as the crest of your release approaches, he suddenly pulls away, and your feet land on the ground. His palm meets your puffy cunt with a sharp, stinging slap, pushing you over the edge with a burst of pain. You tumble into his strong chest, fully engulfed in Endo, surrounded and protected by him as you come undone in the palm of his hand.

"Good little thing, playing so well with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice a mix of praise and possessiveness. "You deserve to be fucked until your legs give out, leaving a trail for all the perverts to lick up on your way home." He inhales your scent deeply, arms holding you steady as you teeter on the edge of consciousness. You’re halfway gone, lost in the aftermath of your release, so it’s no surprise you don’t register the sound of his zip being undone.

Endo manoeuvres you like his personal plaything, turning you around with a practised ease. A flat hand between your shoulder blades pushes you forward, but he doesn’t let you fall. He’ll always hold his princess up. His biceps flex as he snakes an arm around your waist, positioning you perfectly to slide his needy cock inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, drowning himself in your scent as he thrusts deeply, each push driving you forward in his embrace. Your body jerks with the impact, on the verge of giving out.

"You wanted this," he reminds you, his breath staggered, drawing out each word as he battles his own exhaustion. "You know I’ll make any of your wishes come true, no matter how fucked up." Another harsh thrust nearly drives you into the tree, but Endo pulls you back, refusing to let you drift too far from him. He will always hold you as close as possible. "I’d do anything for you," he rambles, his voice thick with devotion. His brows furrow in concentration as he leans back, his eyes raking over your subdued form.

His hands grip your upper arms, his thighs spreading you open as his hips bounce against the soft flesh of your arse. He’s so close—so fucking close. Mumbled adorations spill from his lips, "My perfect girl," and hushed "I love you"s pouring into your fucked-out mind. He doesn’t mind your muted responses; not when your walls clamp around his cock with every word of praise. His beloved is tired, after all. "Gonna cum inside ya, fuck, I’m so close," he groans, his breath ragged, moans raspy. The heat of his breath and the drops of sweat the only sensations grounding you while he fucks you with growing desperation.

Endo's movements slow down for him to only grind into you once his neediness makes a return. "Let me hear it again, pretty thing, tell me." His voice is a desperate pant, needing your words to anchor him. Perfectly conditioned, you remember what makes him fall apart in the palm of your hand. No matter the bile biting your throat upon the messy memories you hold for him, you give him what he needs. "I-I love you, Yamato, I love you, can you cum for me, please?" you pant, your voice trembling.

His eyes roll back, a near-maniacal grin spreading across his face as his head falls back to gaze at the bright moonlight above. "Don’t have to ask me twice, doll," he promises, and with a final thrust, he finally lets go, freeing himself from the pent-up need that consumed him.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[wolfiesmoon]

hey, i wanted to say first that i love ur writing style. Also I wanted to ask (if is not a problem) jade, floyd and leona the prompt “cheek kisses that leave red lipstick stains”

awwww i'm so glad u think so!! i'm not sure if you mean the more silly one or the more serious one but either way i'm very happy 🩷

the reader is gender neutral in essence but they do wear lipstick because it's needed for this fic

jade's is suggestive i suppose????? so watch out for that????

⋆୨୧˚ Jade Leech

"Interesting choice of lipstick. Not in a bad way, of course." Jade commented upon seeing you.

"I bought it yesterday, but I still have something I have to test out." You tried your best to look innocent and nonchalant.

You've had this lipstick for a while actually, but you still haven't tested if it's transfer proof yet. Jade is the perfect candidate to test that out. Atleast in your humble opinion.

"Oh? And what might that be?" he smiled at you.

"You'll see. Like, literally right now." you mirrored his decievingly innocent smile. After you kiss him, his eyes will probably go wide like they always do when he isn't expecting something. Which just so happens to be one of your favourite expressions of his.

You reached your hands out to him and pulled his face close to yours, then pressed a nice, long kiss on his right cheek. You mirrored it on the left one too, of course. Symmetry always looks nice.

Just like you predicted, he made the exact face you envisioned, with slightly pink cheeks as a bonus.

"Oh. I was... certainly not expecting that." he sounded genuinely surprised, smiling happily at you and showcasing his sharp teeth in the process. Knowing Jade, you honestly don't want to know what he thought you were going to do with that lipstick.

"Aw man, it's not transfer proof." you acted slightly dissapointed, but in reality, you couldn't be more glad that it isn't. Hmmm, it kinda feels nice to catch Jade off guard like that. Maybe you should do it more often.

"You don't realise what you've just done, do you?" his smile quickly turns sinister in a way you can't quite put your finger on. It makes you feel all weird, like you're pray getting cornered.

"Done what?" you laughed nervously.

"I do hope that you are good at hiding bite marks." as he said that, he was already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to god knows where.

"Wait... Jade, where are you taking me? Jade?!"

You have a feeling the lipstick might get smudged by the time you're done.

⋆୨୧˚ Floyd Leech

"I don't wanna talk to you..." Floyd sulked, not looking at you.

"He's been like this for the whole day." Normally, Jade would deal with Floyd's bad mood, but he's been causing even more trouble for the Lounge than usual today and was not very willing to be put in a better mood by his brother, so Jade was forced to employ higher forces to help him out. The higher forces being you, of course.

"Right... Actually, I think I might have an idea on how to solve this." You thought of a certain thing you wanted to for a while now but never had the chance to.

"Is that so?" Jade noticed the mischevious smile on your face, amused at whatever you'll come up with.

.

"Floyd, come with me." You pulled on his collar, sounding confident and serious.

"I told you, I'm not going to talk to you..." he glared at you, trying to push your hand away.

"There's no talking involved." You pulled harder and he finally let up, silently letting you drag him to a quiet corner of the school.

Because he's still in a bad mood, he hasn't looked your way at all. This also means he hasn't noticed the lipstick.

Suddenly, you grab a hold of his face and press a kiss to his lips before he can protest.

"Oh... oooooooh!" His face brightened up and it seems his mood has instantly improved. Floyd's a surprsingly simple guy sometimes, isn't he?

But, you're not done yet.

You pepper kisses on each of his cheeks without letting him say anything at all. He lets out strange but not entirely unwelcome noises while you're busy decorating his cheeks with kiss marks.

"There. Are you in a better mood now? Because the Mostro Lounge needs you." you looked satisfied with your work and so did Floyd when he got a glance of himself in the mirror.

"Ehhhh, do I really have to? I feel like squeezing you, not going to work. Especially not now that I'm all decorated with your kisses." he looked annoyed at the mention of work, wanting nothing more than to smother you with love and bonecrushing hugs right now.

Seems your plan kinda backfired since he became a little too happy and doesn't seem fond of letting you go anytime soon.

⋆୨୧˚ Leona Kingscholar

It is a bit unusual for you to wear such a bright lipstick color. He brushes it off, thinking you were just in the mood for a bright color or something.

Why should he care what color your lips are, anyways? Does not matter at all.

"Leonaaaa.... come here, kitty kitty~" you called him over jokingly and he glared at you in annoyance which only made you snort harder. But he still came over anyways, so you call it a win.

He looked at you, waiting for you to clarify on what you called him over for. Better be worth his time.

You grabbed a hold of the two braids at the front of his hair and pulled him into a kiss. Though it was a short(er) one since your main targets are his cheeks.

You made sure to thoroughly decorate them with kisses, turning his head left and right to inspect your work and make sure the number was about equal.

"You done?" he tries to sound unbothered, but you immediately see through it. He's definitely really happy about it.

"Yeah. You can go back to napping now." you let him go, and he lingered for a moment, no doubt dissapointed that you actually said yes. But since he didn't want to show it, he returned to his napping spot under the tree and you went back to studying in the library.

.

"Leeeeeoooonaaaa! Are you here again? Professor Crewel is mad at y- What is that on your face?" Ruggie's scolding session was cut short when he noticed the lipstick marks on Leona's face.

"What are you.... Ugh..." turns out Leona kinda forgot about the fact that lipstick usually leaves marks and that his cheeks were full of 'em this whole time. He groans at the realisation.

Though... they might not be that bad if they were made by you.

"Oh my god, stay still. I gotta take a photo of this. I'm sure your family would be happy to know you're doing well in your love life." Ruggie was about to pull out his phone but was stopped by Leona who swiftly grabbed his wrist. Wait, since when was he standing, anyways?

"Jesus, you scare me sometimes..." Ruggie pushes his phone back in his pocket. "Well, do I go get something to clean your face or what?"

Leona hesitates.

"Yeah, yeah."

[rippersz]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚

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(Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader) (NSFW: Cunnilingus, Overstimulation; Fluff) (~1.3K words)

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Brienne held the kindest soul. Always hidden behind a tough exterior, yes, but kind nevertheless. She was so eager to be of service and fight for her honor, for her morals, for her people. Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, the best of her ranks. The best of her warriors. Perhaps not as strong as some of the men, but definitely more intelligent. Definitely more lithe. Quick, even in her armor. Brutal, even in her training.

You enjoyed watching from the walls of the castle, looking down at the training grounds with amused eyes as she barked orders and corrected stances and cut down a few arrogant souls with one swift slash of her sword. It wasn’t very funny to her, but sometimes, in the dark of night beneath your blankets, you were able to pull a laugh or two from her tired body. Gossiping about how stupid and oaf-ish some of the men could be, and mimicking their silly deep voices so outrageously that she was forced to wack at your shoulder and roll her eyes in eternal exasperation. You delighted in those moments, especially when you could lean over and push a smooshed sloppy kiss onto her cheek - giggling when she shoved you away and pretended to get sick into her palm. Also a tactic to hide the blush on her face, but you never confronted her about it.

Though it was no surprise, of course, for a woman like Brienne to take her passion for combat into other areas of her life. Her vigor when mounting and riding her horse, the quick sharp movements of her hand and her penmanship, and the way she pulled on her armor without needing help. All done with a certain level of dedication and precision. All done without complaint. You admired those qualities about her, and you told her so often.

You told her so often… when you weren’t being fucked dumb on top of her face. Held by her strong hands. With a dedicated, precision-focused Brienne looking up at you through hooded lashes.

She was flushed and sweating, with the soft baby hairs at her temples slicking back into the rest of her golden locks. Splayed out like a halo on the front of the feathered pillow. She was an absolute vision there, your warrior. Eyes so dark and sharp, watching the way your breasts bounced and your lips parted - swollen from the biting kisses she placed there not too long ago. Something had happened earlier in the day that led to her desperation. The very moment the door to your quarters was closed and locked, those calloused hands were running to your hips and bringing you in. Closer and closer and closer to her, until she nearly ripped the shirt from her head and the dress from your body.

“I’ve missed you,” she huffed into your ear before pressing hot kisses down the line of your neck, trailing her tongue in a delightful little dance across your skin. You were so sensitive for her, and so familiar with being in control, that the loss of it had you losing your courage.

“You saw me- oh gods- e-earlier,” was your whispered response, though it was shoved out of your mouth by the hand that wound itself into your hair and tugged backward.

“I don’t care,” Brienne seethed. “I always miss you.” And the softness that came with such words was only reserved for you. In front of others, she wouldn’t dare, but there were no others there. It was only you, grasping her shoulders, and her, leaning down and walking you toward the bed.

The bed, where she had you falling apart.

The bed, which you could barely see because dear fucking gods her tongue was ruining your senses. It was an eager thing. Absolutely hungry. Running over your clit in perfect circles, flicking and teasing and pulling soft whimpers from your chest. Stroking the flames of your desire, building them up and up and up until they swallowed you whole. From the prickles of heat at the base of your skull all the way to your curling toes and shaking thighs. You were so sensitive, pushing yourself against the wall to stop yourself from losing balance, utterly embarrassed to feel the drool leak out of your mouth as the overwhelming tide of bliss came over you again. And again. And again. Washing away your thoughts, your earthly desires, and leaving a raw woman behind. Shuddering above the wicked mouth of your lover, with her sharp jaw burning in exertion and her sweet brow furrowed, too concentrated to care about her tired muscles. Long fingers kept you pinned, digging into the crease of your thigh and tummy, and her arms flexed with the strength it took to keep you still and open for her. At her dear excruciating mercy. Quivering on top of that handsome face and feeling your muscles clench eagerly when she filled you up with her tongue and moaned. Forcing the warm flutters from your body while she closed those gorgeous blue eyes and lapped at your mess.

“B-Brienne- please!” Your words were slurred and sloppy, mumbled helplessly against the wall. Every part of your body crumbled from the exquisite burn. “Please- ungh- can’t-”

But Brienne didn’t care if you could or couldn’t. The only response you got was a throaty groan and a small quirk of pale, wet lips. Her silent pleasure at your beautiful praise. Her gentle purrs at your eager whines. She was more than willing to drown in you - if only it meant you were satisfied and happy and so tired by the end of it that she wouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about you being the ‘big spoon’. That is, of course, if your arms ever became strong enough to hold her again. It was far too easy to lose yourself in the pleasure she gave, desperate and starved, and when your hands ran to tangle themselves in her soft hair, she seemed to know that just for a moment- you had had enough.

“Dear gods Brienne!” You huffed as soon as her arms pulled you down toward her chest and she had enough leverage to flip you around and put herself on top. “That- I-” a soft whine bubbled up from your throat, swiftly cutting off your words when she leaned down and pressed soft pecks to your cheeks and neck. They were easy and light, so quick and delicate on your skin that they could’ve been raindrops. Your eyes slid closed with bliss. Whatever you were going to say was lost to the feeling of her chest pressing into your own and the sweet subtle hum between your legs.

“Are you alright?” Brienne murmured, shoving her mouth against the space above your heart to grant it the sweetest of kisses.

All you could give her, your darling warrior, was a pleased grunt. You were more than alright. You were loved. Cared for. You were pleasured within an inch of your life and intelligent conversation was far above you then. Perhaps after a warm night together, you’d be able to return the favor in the morning. Though Brienne was never the type of woman to care so much about reciprocation, and the soft amused snort she responded with was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard.

“Can I- tomorrow- hng.” You stuttered, waving your hand like a white flag in the air. Too tired to bother stringing together a proper sentence.

Brienne’s smile was small and full of pride when she sat up.

“Rest now, love,” she leaned in and swiped her thumb along your cheek, silently admiring you in all of your sensitive glory. “And we’ll see about tomorrow.”

Well. You heard the woman. And there was no need for her to tell you twice.

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Short but sweet. - Rip x

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