#cut the damn thing off dark

[ithebookhoarder]

Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...

Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable

Masterlist

“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 

“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 

Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 

It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 

The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 

Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 

“Are you talking about Reid?”

“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”

Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”

“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”

“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”

Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 

“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”

“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”

“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”

By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 

Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”

“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”

Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 

There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 

Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 

The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 

You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 

Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 

“Hey, Spence-“

“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 

“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 

“Then what are you doing here?” 

“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”

Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 

He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  

It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 

“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”

“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, still-“

“Hey, pretty boy!” 

Spencer froze. 

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”

Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 

“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”

“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 

“Yes.”

“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 

The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 

“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 

“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 

“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 

He chuckled. “Will do.” 

With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 

If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 

As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...

[forlix]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.

— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit

𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡

y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx

if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom

11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views

bokkie 🐣 liked your post.

“My tweet?”

You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.

“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"

A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:

je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀

You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"

je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch

You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."

je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(

An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”

At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.

“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”

Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.

You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.

je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again

“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."

Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”

You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“The mouse,” you say helplessly.

“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”

A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”

“I know.”

This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.

Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.

Do you agree? Absolutely.

Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.

Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.

A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.

There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.

The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.

A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.

“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.

It’s either your mom, or…

“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.

“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"

“Yes, please.”

He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.

You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.

There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.

That is all he needs to know.

Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.

je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??

y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.

𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[thebimbopalace]

❝ ORAL FIXATION LVL. [ EXTREME ] ! ❞

↻ featuring: t. fushiguro

⟢ blurb: do you have an oral fixation? yes, yes you do. and does sucking toji ōff satisfy it? yes, yes it does.

wc: 1.5k

contains — fem!reader, husband!toji, explicit content (mdni), foul language, feminine pet names, oral (m!receiving), light cöckwarming, light throat fūcking, dirty talk, use of good girl, reader gets called ‘pup’, praise

one thing you know for sure, your husband is a slut.

whether it's intentional or not, toji pushes your buttons to the point of bed-breaking sex. as you both relax on the couch watching television together, here he is, trying to provoke you.

you sit nestled under his beefy arm as his hand rests on the ample flesh of your breast over your t-shirt in a comfortable hold. he sits man-spread, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips showcasing his delectable v-line and the tufts of dark hair that make up his happy trail. tight black shirt that conforms to the musculature of his torso. jeez, if the fabric were a lower cut, he'd damn near be showing his cleavage.

who told him to look like that? WHO?

as you scan his physique with your starving orbs, you try your damnedest not to stare at that all-too-obvious bulge of his cock in his pants. such thickness, such length that never fails to pound you into the mattress. the stretch it delivers to your awaiting cunt causes your to curl your toes in your socks just from the thought.

saliva pools in your mouth as a heavy feeling overtakes your tongue. you need him, and you need him now.

you shift lower on the couch as your hand slides up his thick thigh tantalizingly slow. "can i help you?" toji's deep baritone rings out, eyebrow quirking up when you slip your nimble fingers into the waistband of his sweats and boxers. "yeah actually, lift your hips," your demanding tone ricochets off his ears.

his features crumple up at your blatant audacity to demand anything without the magic word. his hips still haven't lifted while the soft background noise of the television fills the tense air.

fuck.

"what?"

"lift your hips toji," you repeat, annoyed that he's not listening.

his giant hand cups your chin, stout fingers pressing into your soft cheeks. his navy irises lock onto yours in an intimidating sexual gaze. "use your manners. you know i taught you better than that," now it was toji's turn to command you. a rush of warmth floods your face at his raspy demand. your eyes dart away from his potent stare as you mumble incoherent syllables.

"speak up girl," he harshly utters as the pads of his fingers tighten on your chin. "please lift your hips, toji, i want it in my mouth," you plea sweetly as your fingers play with his waistband, wanting nothing more than to see his cock, to feel the weight on your tongue. he scoffs "not even a 'pretty' in front of that pathetic please? you must not want—"

"nononono i do, i wan' it pretty pleaseee toji," you whine. a smug smirk shows on his lips, turning the scar on the side of his mouth up. "there's my good girl, i was wonderin' where she was, heh. take what you need baby," he slides his hand from your chin to your ear as he tucks some of your locks behind it. a touch so intimate, so loving, a major contrast to the sultry way he licks his lips as if he's thirsty for what's about to come.

once he lifts his hips, you make quick work of taking his pants off him, ripping them down just far enough to free his soft dick from his boxer. how is he still so big on soft? you wonder. you lean down and deliver a tiny peck to his limp cock before engulfing the entire thing in the cave that is your mouth. the pubes at his base tickle your nose as you have him far down between your lips. "can’t even relax without you tryin’ to suck on my cock, shit," toji hisses.

his soft trunk is stationed between your lips as you flatten your tongue to lick the underside of it. you're not even sucking it yet, just warming it up while your spit trickles slowly, creating a light tickle down the sides of his flaccid cock. toji sits back, entertained but quickly growing impatient with each pass of your tongue on his shaft.

"come on girl, either suck it or get off my cock," he huffs huskily with traces of a pout on his scarred lips. you roll your eyes at the obvious sass in his tone. you almost want to keep warming his cock just to torture him but, that would also be torture to you, and that you don't want. so, with a wrap of your manicured hand around his girth, you begin to stroke him, successfully smearing all your saliva gloss mixed concoction up and down his length.

"yeah, that's it. make sure to get that cock niceeee and wet, mhm," he sighs as his body relaxes into the cushions, head tilting back against the back of the couch. the air around you both grows hot, thick with sensuality. as your warm mouth slides up to his mushroom tip, you swirl your plush tongue around it eliciting a soft groan from the ravenette. you feel the transition in his dick from soft to hard as you carry on.

your hand starts to move in tandem with your mouth. up and down movements as the goal in your mind becomes clear. you want him to cum, more than anything you want to see him fall apart all because of you. “such an eager pup f’me,” toji breathed as the pleasure from your warm, wet cavern shoots to his toes. the in-sync motions of your hand and mouth are steady, sucking from base to tip as your tongue lies flat on the underside of him.

up and down, up and down, up and—

you feel toji place his strong hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers into your locks as he forces you down to his base. a sputtering gag erupts from the back of your throat as his fat cock forcefully enters. “take it, take it, oh fuck. tight. . .fuckin’. . .throat, god d-damn,” toji strains as sweat starts to form on his forehead. you relax your throat to assist the bullying of his girth into your snug tunnel.

his fingers tighten their grip on your strands pulling you off his now rigid cock. panting breaths release from you as your chest moves to the rapid beat of his heart. toji locks his gaze with yours in admiration. beauty that can rival aphrodite herself. big ‘innocent’ eyes filled with tears decorating your lash line, clear saliva strings that connect your plump lips to his blushing tip, just gorgeous. “mmm, my pretty baby.”

his hand slides down the back of your head, cups the nape of your neck as his free hand grabs the base of his cock. toji taps the fat tip on your slick lips like he's microphone-testing making a short whimper fall in response. “open up ‘n finish what you started, dirty girl," toji's deep drawl commands as he smudges his beaded precum, making your lips change from red to a soft pink color.

a thin string of crystalline arousal drips from your puffy cunt wetting the pillow below you. as you sink your mouth back down on his cock, you take your fingers, gather your wetness from your begging slit and coat his shaft in the lewd substance. toji watches with a filthy smirk present on his handsome face. "nasty little girl, definitely trained you so well. now, back to it baby, don't keep that cock waiting," he emphasizes by holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail.

and so you don't, keep that cock waiting that is. both of your hands encase his engorged hard-on in a tight clasp. toji's balls scrunch up as you swallow down his manhood with vigor. "f-fuckkk," toji hisses at the accelerated rate you're sucking him off. with each bob of your head, you twist your hands with each up and down stroke at the same time.

focused. the focused look on your features has toji on the verge of cumming already. he may never see heaven but, this, with your obscene mouth working on his cock is all the heaven he needs. you start to suck harder. shit, shit, shit, toji thinks. "jus' tryin' to suck that cum out huh? good girl, work for it. work for my fuckin’ cum," he encourages, almost desperately.

the pleading tone in his voice egged you on. you wanted it, the need to make this man fall apart and fill your mouth up with his warm seed was almost demonic. and so, you kept moving. not stopping no matter the dull ache you felt in your neck and wrists. toji's low primal grunts and growls mixed with your pornographic gagging made music that could put symphonies to shame.

he's in ecstasy as the pang in his balls grows tighter and tighter until you moan around his stiff cock putting the final nail in the coffin. all words leave him as — forget stars, this man sees the whole solar system behind his eyes as deep guttural groans and curses tumble out of his parted scarred lips.

the bucking of his hips, perfectly fucking his thick cum down your throat as you swallow each spurt. after what feels like an eternity, his physique, damp with sweat weakens into the couch as he comes down from cloud nine. “whew, fuck, such a good pup for milking my dick. on all fours now baby, still got one more ‘n me.”

@shaguro @ich1koko @sugabie @chromimis — enjoy my lovelies !!! xoxo

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

[kissitbttr]

miguel with a jealous fiance

-

“stare a little longer and you might actually kill her, y/n” jess chuckles as she follows your eyesight, spotting miguel being flirted by a woman whom you’ve never seen before.

you and miguel are attending a gala fundraiser. run by some rich bastard named ‘bruce wayne’. he didn’t want to go at first, but because mr. wayne had sent the invitations to you both himself, it would be rude not to attend. plus, it’s best if he’s out and try to socialize, make some new friends instead.

but now you’re starting to regret the decision when you see some red haired getting cozy with your man. she keeps touching his arm, giggling obnoxiously at something he said. which pisses you off because your fiancé is not that funny.

Ignoring jess’s comment, you twirl the wine glass softly, emerald green manicured nails clicking against it. you bite the inside of your cheek with cold eyes dead set on the girl. you wanted to laugh at how that woman had been trying too hard to catch his attention.

miguel isn’t doing anything rather than answering without holding an eye contact, casually sipping his whiskey on rock as he searches through the crowd. you could tell he’s annoyed. but it wouldn’t be polite for him to tell her to fuck off, would it?

god, you wish he had the balls to actually do it.

“you know he wouldn’t do such thing right?”

scoffing as if it’s the most stupid question ever, you nod. of course he wouldn’t. he’s too damn crazy about you.

“i know. it’s her i don’t trust” you mutter, almost growling. “that bitch could clearly see he has a ring on his finger. she fucking blind or something?!”

jess could only laugh while shaking her head. she thinks you and miguel are too much alike. a perfect pair. “then show her who’s the boss.”

“oh i will” you respond with hesitation, gulping down every last drop of your drink before setting the glass down on the table. “be right back”

with that, you flick your hair over your shoulder, adjusting the straps of your silky emerald green dress and begin walking towards your fiancé’. jess’s commentary about ‘try not to kill her’ from behind fall deaf upon your ears.

sorry, jess. no promises.

you could feel all eyes on you as you walk. it’s hard not to. men and women craning their shoulders to get a better look at the beautiful woman who looks like she’s invented class and beauty herself. the world completely stop when you walk through the crowd.

and not to be cocky or anything, but you’re fully aware of how gorgeous you are. with curves that look like built by the gods themselves, full plump soft lips and long, beautiful thick hair that cascade down to your back and eyes sharp enough to draw sailors if you were ever a siren.

it’s like looking at freyja the goddess whom paid a visit on earth.

as miguel’s eyes continues to scan through the busy evening filled with mindless chatters, his dark red irises then stop at you. a small grin creeps to his face when he sees you walking towards him with your head held up high.

but your eyes aren’t on him, it’s on the woman.

“i just think, that you are sooo-“

“so what?” you cut her off with a fake smile and arms crossed over your chest. standing beside your soon to be husband, you watch how the woman’s eyes then flicker to your figure. “making friends without me, my love? how impolite”

miguel shakes his head, his hand quick enough to snake around your waist pulling you close. “of course not, mi vida. this is—“

“not interested. so, you wanna fuck my husband?” your voice coming off venomous, glaring at the woman who seems to be shocked at your question.

a sigh escape from miguel’s mouth, one that implies ‘this is not going to be good’

the woman has her mouth hang wide open as she struggles to respond. she can’t exactly decide whether she’s intimidated by you or attracted to you.

“i—i’m so sorry… I didn’t know he had a wife—“

with a scoff, you roll your eyes. “you’ve been eyeing and talking to my man for at least twenty minutes. you’re saying that your eyesight is so fucking jacked you couldn’t even see the ring on his finger?!”

miguel could only stand there and listening to you scold the woman. because if there’s one thing he learned being with you? is that to not meddle or interrupt.

she shakes her head rapidly, stuttering out a nervous response, “n-no! i—i—I did see it, i j-just thought—“

“oh you did see it!” you exhale a sarcastic laugh. “and what, you think it’s okay to flirt with someone else’s husband when clearly he has no interest?! you really think he’s gonna go for you, sweetheart?”

the tone of your voice is far from polite. miguel could sense that, and he squeezes your waist in attempt for you to take it easy on the girl but you only shrug it off and pay no mind to it.

the woman look like she’s about to cry by how you’re scolding her. shaking quiet a bit and embarrassed that her flirty gesture had failed to steal someone else’s man.

“i’m s-sorry… I’m—i—“

“you” your raise your finger at her face. “need to get the fuck out of my sight before i drag you by the hair and beat your ass hard that no one will ever recognize that pretty face of yours again.”

she nods quickly at that, taking her champagne flute before walking away quickly. you’re still fuming on the inside. glaring at the back of that girl’s head until she’s fully disappears.

“damn, mami” miguel lowly whistles, a dark chuckle follows after as he moves to stand in front of you. hand around your waist still attached, pulling you close to him. “you’re so sexy when you get jealous.”

jealous. you hate that word.

everyone needs to know that you don’t take it lightly when it comes to miguel. he belongs to you and vice versa. and if you have to beat a bitch up to get your point across, then so be it.

“let’s get one thing straight, miguel. I don’t get jealous” You emphasize the word as you turn your focus on Miguel, giving him a stern look. “I get territorial. they need to know that you’re my man. I see a girl trying to take over my territory, then consider her fucking finished. you got that?”

miguel can’t argue with the fact that you just turned him on just by saying that. especially when you come off as demanding like this. It’s one of the reason why he fell in love with you.

bossy. ambitious. confident. and Independent. traits that miguel loves in a woman.

he smirks, looking down at you as he clicks his tongue against his bottom teeth. “yes, ma’am” he replies with a nod.

you nod back, crossing your arms. “good.”

“and just when i thought you couldn’t get any sexier” he shakes his head, squeezing your ass before leaning down a bit to give you a kiss on your cheek. “you do”

rolling your eyes, you lightly shove his shoulder. yet you can’t help but blush at the gesture. “easy there… we’re in public.”

he cocks an eyebrow, palm not leaving your ass. “and when has that ever stopped you before, mi amor?”

you bite your lower lip softly, remembering the times when you and miguel had done it over and over outside the comfort of your home.

yeah, both of you are pretty experimental.

“bathroom in 5. don’t keep me waiting”

[soullessdianthus]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚

Warnings: yandere themes (manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment), smut (overstimulation, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink if you want to interpret like so)

Word count: 1.6k

A sound of pouring rain tapping over the window kept you awake. You glanced over the glass and saw the same image as for the days before - dense, forest line cutting the grassy, wild meadow off. The temperature inside and out was warm and it almost felt like summer in the countryside of your homeland. But it was all an illusion.

A high-tech screens had been put inside the window frames to imitate your well known surroundings. He put an effort to make this place look like a decent place. Somewhere you would feel comfortable. But this wasn’t even a real home, it was your prison. 

After you interfered a little too much with the canon events in one of the spider-verses, Miguel O’Hara visited your world in person. He demanded an explanations from Peter Parker, a friend from college, about your doings. 

Because you two learned lately about the up-coming death of uncle Ben and tried to avoid it by all means. And you almost succeed. Almost.

Miguel, a tall man with a dark look on his face, threatened Peter about the consequences of avoiding such occurrences. Parker appeared to be frightened of the stranger as Miguel’s eyes seemed to glow brightly red from frustration. 

Those piercing eyes finally found your form, standing still behind your Spiderman and only then you processed what you just heard. 

━ Wh-What? It was OUR idea to save your uncle! ━ You interrupted those two men, gesturing with your hands. But Peter didn’t even bother to look at you, he didn’t have enough courage to do so. He tried to frame you and put all the guilt on you. Which in the end, somehow worked out. 

He agreed to that mysterious spidey-guy from another universe that someone had to bear the consequences of messing up with the timeline. And Parker pointed at you. An ultimate betrayal, ripped your heart apart. 

Soon after you found yourself in that damn prison with a bracelet over your wrist to “stop you from glitching��. Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Miguel was some kind of boss around the place you found yourself in. At least that's what Lyla told you, a artificial intelligence present in the technology around you. It was him who was responsible for you from now on as he visited you every day. 

At first, each time you saw him, you tried throwing things at him purely out of rage - a book, a small picture frame or a chair, but each time he managed to catch or turn down anything you tossed. He kept trying to explain to you what was happening and why he couldn’t let you go back into your world. Miguel stated that it was dangerous enough when a non-variant person was messing up with the timeline. 

But was this all true? There was no one else you could ask for a second opinion, you had to believe, everything Miguel told you was the truth. Obviously, you questioned everything about him and this place. It felt like you were losing your sanity and a part of yourself. 

The well-built man with brown, combed hair was very patient and understable with your rage and sorrow. Until he was not. 

O’Hara had enough of your tantrums and one time he scared you truly. Eyes turning bloody red, his veins popping out and his teeth turning into long fangs. He charged at you, shoving your whole body to the wall behind. When your eyes were filled with fear and lungs emptied themself due to the force he pushed you, Miguel contained himself and moved away quickly. 

You rarely saw him in this form, but when you finally did - you kept behaving well, not wanting to anger him again. Because you knew nothing about him. What if he was able to hurt you? Or even murder you? 

Since then, you tried to suppress any anger and try to figure out how to return to your world, your life. And the brunette kept coming back, each day just to visit you. In the end he was your only company. 

Miguel brought you new books or art supplies if you asked Lyla or him directly. The man would spend some time with you - cooking, watching movies, anything you liked to do. But it was months ago. 

For the last couple of weeks, you were practically silent and apathetic. Curling inside the armchair near the “window”, napping or sobbing quietly. You’ve been in this prison for too long and it began to crush your spirit. 

He acknowledged the change in you and tried talking about it. He kept assuring that he has to keep you here for the world’s sake and balance. Because if someone messes up with the canon again, the universe will collapse. You reprimanded yourself for leaning into his chest when he offered you a comforting hug. Because how could you ever want solace from your captor? 

That evening was no different. Miguel visited you after work and found you sitting in silence on that damn armchair. When he crouched down, trying to catch your sight, you scooted backwards in the seat. 

━ What’s wrong, cariño?

━ I want to go home. ━ Your voice full with sorrow gained his attention. Where was your spirit he adored so much? The pain in your voice almost made him feel bad. Almost.

Miguel reached towards your exposed calf and started rubbing it with his pointing finger. 

━ This is your home, tú lo sabes. [sp.: you know it] ━ His voice sounded peaceful when he reached both of his arms in your direction. His embrace was welcoming, but you knew better. It was like a sweet flavored poison, spreading slowly under your skin, killing you slowly. ━ Come here.

You pushed firmly against his shoulders as you jumped out of the chair and took a few steps back. 

━ Miguel ━ you said his name loudly, gaining his full attention. You were being hysterical again. ━ I’ve been here FOR MONTHS. I had life before, I had A PURPOSE. You took it from me!

He tried, he really tried holding himself back this time you talked back. But your whining became annoying and Miguel just knew what would make you feel better. 

He stood up to his full height, easily towering over you. Brunette came closer, taking each step slowly, like he was giving you time to calm yourself or at least apologize. But you didn’t even back out. 

Miguel was leaning to look into your glimmering eyes and he saw how much you hated him at that moment. “We need to work on that temper”, he once told you, but you thought nothing of it. 

His little, feisty nymph. That’s what he liked to think of you. 

━ Fine ━ he growled right in your face, before grabbing your arm. ━ I’ll give you a purpose. 

The sound of your heavy panting echoed through the room. You tried straightening your hands again, but unsuccessfully as your muscles gave up a long time ago. Only his strong hands kept your ass higher than your head, by the tightening grip over your already bruised hips. 

Miguel kept thrusting into your tight cunt until you were a sobbing mess. He already pushed you over the edge at least three times, devouring the little noises you made and how your pussy clenched around his swollen shaft. 

Brunette kept one of his palms spread between your shoulder blades, keeping your upper half down, making your spine arch better. 

The sweat covered the back of your bent knees, him sliding in and out of you with ease, because of your wetness. Miguel certainly knew where to touch you to make you break into pieces between his fingers. 

━ See, doesn't that feel good to be by my side, cariño? ━ He leaned over your puffing frame, cheek dipped in the sheets while he kept fucking you stupid. 

━ Mig-Miguel… I can’t… n-no more…. ━ You whispered to him, feeling as each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper inside of you. The coiling sensation started to build up again between your trembling legs and in stomach. ━ Please!

━ Just one more, darling. ━ He heard you clearly, but yet he kept sliding in and out of you violently, chasing his own sweet release. 

Miguel took his hand away from your back and sneaked between your puffy lips. He spreaded them, opening you up and making it easier for him to find your clit. And when he finally did so, the brunette started rubbing it in a rhythm that quickly made you reach your another orgasm that night. 

Your body tensed suddenly and then collapsed into his pelvis, sinking his swollen cock deeper. When your cunt fluttered around him uncontrollably and your eyes rolled backwards, he came inside you, clenching his teeth. 

He tilted forward and placed both of his strong hands on each side of you, while coming down from his high. He noticed your grip tightening over bed sheets and smiled, before giving you a tender kiss on the temple. 

━ Mi pequeña ninfa. Do you understand now, that only I can protect you? [sp.: My little nymph]

Miguel loved his girl no matter if she had a bad day or not. He was going to make sure, no one will ever take you from him. You’re his precious troublemaker, aren’t you?

━ You belong with me. ━ He growled into your ear.

[cinnbar-bun]

Smooth Operator- (One Piece Men X Reader)

Scenario: “His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold.”

Featuring: Benn Beckman, Crocodile, Rob Lucci, Shanks, and Smoker (separate)

Rating: NSFW

Notes: Rough sex, GN reader (no specific genitalia described), slight angst but oh well haha, possessive Lucci, reader is a pirate in Smoker’s section.

Word Count: ~1.1k

You can read on my AO3 here!

Work is under the cut!!

Benn Beckman

“Fuck… sweetheart…” he whispers into your ear as he lifts your leg higher up. “Tightenin’ around me so well.”

His hand that is gripping your waist rubs gentle circles with his thumb. He can’t stop how addicted he feels pressing into you, having you clench around him so deliciously, and your lovely, sweet voice crying out his name. It’s a beautiful sight to see whenever he drops by. But you both know he won’t stay long, so you try to savor as much as you can. You, the gentle touches and looks in his eyes that make you believe that this time, maybe, just maybe, he’ll take you with him. Him, the way your body feels around his and the way your face contorts with pleasure at every thrust. He has half a mind to run off and leave everything behind for you. To say screw it and keep himself beside you.

“Beck-! Beck!” You choke out his name, pulling him in closer, and lord, it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you and confess how much he fucking adores you.

“Easy there, darling. I’m right here,” he smoothly replies, for both of your sakes. He feels how close you are and works himself faster. “Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Crocodile

The smell of alcohol and cigar smoke is heavy in his private room. You always say it won’t happen again, but then those dark eyes of his lock onto yours, and now you’re back at it. In his office, a disheveled mess, bouncing on his thick cock while he grips your waist tightly.

“S-Sir!” You whine, as he taps his cigar on his ashtray and takes another puff. You feel the cold metal of his hook around your back. Despite his attitude, he’s made it a point to never let that golden hook cut you or slice your delicate skin. He just prefers the hook tearing the fabric of your clothes apart.

“Good little thing,” he states, a chuckle rumbling from deep in his chest as he tilts your chin up to him and kisses you roughly. The rings on his hand press into your skin coldly. As he does so, his hook tugs at the remaining bits of fabric and lets the shreds fall to the ground.

“You don’t need them when you’re with me,” he says. A partial lie, to obscure the truth that he wants you to stay longer and desire his help. You moan quietly before he silences you with his lips once more.

Lucci

“I thought I told you to avoid him,” he states, unimpressed with the man who has been getting too comfortable with you. Lucci’s possessiveness towards you has increased for some reason, despite him insisting it was just casual- that he can never love and will never love you. You somehow agreed, and now here he was, covering your mouth with his hand while he fucked you from behind in an attempt to remind you of his prowess. He shoves two fingers inside your mouth, and without any hesitation or instruction, you begin to suck on them.

“Do you need me to punish you for your foolishness? Or did you think I was stupid enough to not find out?” Lucci hisses. You haven’t done anything wrong, he knows this deep down, but god, seeing that man think of trying to be around you sends Lucci’s blood boiling.

He doesn’t love you. He can’t love you. He never will love you. This is just for pleasure, and you’re just his stress relief, a toy he uses for his own sake.

He grips you tighter and tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “You belong to me. Not him. Not anyone else.”

Shanks

He's never serious. He’s always arriving at your house with that damned smile of his, always easing you up and promising “it’s just a reunion between old friends!” Then he always manages to fold you over any piece of furniture within your house. You wouldn’t be shocked if he had managed to fuck you in every part of your house.

“You’re so….!” You struggle, all while Shanks chuckles and continues to thrust into you. Despite being a bit tipsy and only having one arm, Shanks manages to hit all your sensitive spots- spots he’s become very acquainted with after all these sessions with you.

“Dashing? Handsome?” He begins. You let out a loud moan at particularly rough thrust, which makes him laugh boisterously. “Ah, am I too good for you? No words to describe how amazing I am?”

You want to say he’s awful, that he’s ruining your life with how crazy he makes you, but then he hits that spot again and you crumble.

“Shanks… please…” you beg pathetically, and Shanks nods.

“Anything for my darling~,” the redhead smiles as he leans down to kiss your neck. “Gods, I love you.”

He states it so casually, that you can never tell if he’s being genuine or just messing with you. You don’t know if you can even handle the truth from him anymore.

Smoker

“Think I wouldn’t have noticed, huh?” He growls in your ear. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he bullies his thick cock into you. You don’t even know what he’s noticed this time, as it’s probably another one of his lame excuses to get you close. Not that you care, as you enjoy this game of cat and mouse with him.

“Wearing all that… sitting in that bar and acting all innocent,” he answers for you. “Think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t catch you there? You’ve gotten too brazen, pirate.”

“Captain,” you begin, and you feel how he twitches inside you. “You’ve gotten too brazen yourself. How many times has it been now?”

“Don’t ask a question to mine. I’m the one who is asking the questions here,” he cuts you off, continuing to bury himself within you. “I don’t wanna hear shit from that mouth of yours except what I want.”

You smirk at how he’s doing his best to retain his hardass personality, but it’s clear he’s faltering. You taunt him further.

“Yes, sir~.”

At that, Smoker groans and fucks you at an even rougher pace.

“Say that shit again and I’ll turn you in!” He yells, as if he even had the heart to do such a thing to you. For some reason, you were someone he never could capture.

[fhrlclln]

miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader pt. 1

SPOILERS ??!!

now we all know this man has some serious anger issues lmao but who wouldn’t love a grumpy man having this deep unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, right!? right. and along with that, SMUT! such a beautiful combo. but mild smut for now.

but here is some mild miguel smut for y’alls horny ass (and mine) <3

here’s part 2 !!

mild smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

spiderman 2099. miguel. miguel motherfucking o’hara.

leader of the spider-society, an elite crew of various spider people from all across the multiverse, their mission to protect the multiverse from any threat that may come. sure, knowing how crazy it sounds that the multiverse is real and that— there are more variations of the spiderman you knew since all before this shitshow happened.

and to say, your relationship with the leader wasn’t all that bright in fact.

you’re not a spider person yourself but sometimes you wish you are seeing how fucking cool spider-woman, jessica drew, a fellow member, along with other members coming in are (hobie, gwen, pavitr and so on.) but no radioactive spider ever bit you sadly. you are human, human as ever working under miguel o’hara as his assistant (more of a manager really) even though he has lyla, the virtual sweetheart, you still had some things you can do which are a big help in all the management for the spider-society.

miguel, as a boss, well— he’s a fucking menace sometimes as you grit your teeth to yourself, walking swiftly into the familiar hallways you always passed through, captured anomalies around your vision until you arrive at the fairly narrow one, meaning you were almost close. all the people knew how fucking grumpy he was, always snapping out of nowhere, sharp comments and unnecessary hurtful ones too when he’s super mad. you’ve dealt with all of that since the foundation was found— and he’s kinda a loner. you sigh, knowing from the looks of what has happened today regarding miles morales, things weren’t looking so great. and you had to ask him somehow about the situation and see how it goes, well not or not.

your feet echoed through the vast space of his lab, his platform was up high as always and you can hear him grumbling a top, watching every scenario of what happened. your heels clicked as you stopped, looking up, blue light restricting your vision as you coughed for his attention. cringing already inside as you heard the audios pause.

then silence.

silence….

more silence….

silenceeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

“what?” he asks from above in a clip manner.

“heard from lyla.” you merely quip back, shrugging your shoulders.

“and?” he grunts, resuming his work as the platform above descends down. ah, sassy. you think, usual miguel— not the mad one, real lifesaver for whatever you’re gonna say right now.

“nothing.” you say, waiting for the damn platform to come down faster. “i may have a few questions where this leads-“

“what questions?” he asks, the platform finally stops at the usual height, making miguel who’s back is turned from you visible.

“about the situation. miles morales.”

“ask lyla about that.” he dismisses you again, tone a little sharper. the back of his muscles flex, super suit clinging tight, his mask the only one that was removed. tousled dark hair seen as he clicks away on his screen, the voices of miles and gwen emitting. you gulp, sighing as you tried for one more.

“it’s more of a personal question for you-“

“has it ever occurred that i don’t answer those kind of questions?” he cuts you off, the footage he was watching paused as he slowly turned around to finally face you. your eyes meet his, familiar red ones looking down at you, face scrunched a bit as if he was annoyed already,

“i know.” you slowly say as he crosses his arms. muscle bulging, making you avert from his gaze for a moment, which embarrassed you. “but all i’m saying or asking is that are you going to make it easy for the kid?”

something in his eyes snap at your question. he jumps down, landing swiftly in front of you as he stands up, towering your frame. you roll your eyes, his shadow blocking the light from you as his hands were situated on his waist, meaning he was ready to argue. but you can’t argue how eager you feel seeing how close he is. heat radiating from him, the way he never leaves his eyes off you and his overall presence.

“what is easy in all this, really, huh?” he harshly spits out. “the faith of the multiverse is in danger. and who’s responsible to fix that? me! so no, i’m gonna make it easy for the kid. he was the one who started all of this if you can remember.”

“oh, i remember and i remember clearly telling you how all of this— this is happening is very much-“

“no, no, no. that is completely out of the logical reason for why this happening. not the reason at all.” he says, his brow scrunching together as you too became fairly annoyed that he was cutting you off. an ass really.

“out of the reason? maybe it is the reason if you think about it!” you retort back, huffing out a sigh as he shakes his head turning away from you.

“miguel.” you call out to him. “miguel, for once, try and see through this. through miles.”

“i have a lot of things to do, y/n. arguing with you is not one.” he commands, as your shoulders sink, the familiar feeling of disappointment washing over you from his words.

“maybe if you could listen to me, we wouldn’t be arguing.” you stared at him with hard eyes, he tensed, looking to the side before he swiftly walks towards you again.

“why would i, huh?” he glares at you. “do you know everything i know enough to make everything right in the multiverse?” he stalks over to you, intent to make you listen clearly as you back away a bit from him but he doesn’t stop. “no. so no, there is no point in listening to you.” he growls the last sentence, the lump in your throat bitter as you two stared down at each other before he utters his last insults. the buzz of something blooms between you both. you could feel it, he could feel it. the two of you were just contemplating in the inside as miguel steps a bit closer to whisper it.

“you’re my assistant, know your place.”

your eyes widened at his words. but you could not shake the fact how deep he said it, the rumble in his voice making your brain go haywire at all the emotions you are feeling right now for him. the breaking point of your patience at its peak as you glared at him harshly, his face close to yours as you cursed at him.

“fuck you, miguel.” you spit out. his face suddenly changed as he fucking smirked. smirked! you stare at him as he opens his mouth to spit something out as well in retaliation for your insult.

“really? that’s all you got? i thought you were better at this, churri.” his smirk widens as you shy away, suddenly flustered at how fast he can make you embarrassed. you could feel his chest close to yours as you avert his hard gaze, making the said man snap something inside of him seeing you all crumpled beneath him.

“you’re all bark but no bite, sweetheart.” he whispers as you didn’t look at him. “look at me.”

the subtle growl in his voice caused you to obey him. you look up to meet his eyes again, seeing them red as ever, red with that low gaze that makes your thighs clench hard. the slow breaths between the two of you are only heard as miguel leans down, face closer to yours now.

“what’s making you shy, huh?” he asks, the argument from earlier clearly out of his head as he focuses on you. his one hand creeping up to gently caress yours, urging you to say it.

“miguel, please, stop playing with me.” you grumbled, ashamed how you liked how he was acting now. “it’s not funny.”

“i’m not joking around, am i?” he sasses but you held your hard gaze on him which he surrenders. “alright, i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.” you sighed, knowing there will never be a genuine sorry from him which leaves you utterly defeated, more upset how you know he’s toying with your emotions right now. “i’ll take my leave.”

“y/n, don’t…”

“please stop.” you raise your hand for him to stop.

“i’m sorry.” he genuinely says, gripping your hand gently back down, squeezing it softly. his big gloved hand envelops yours as you studied his face to make sure he wasn’t fucking around. miguel practically knew what’s going on between the two of you, which of course why he liked arguing with you. the way your eyes would dilate all the time and beat of your heart racing whenever he gets super close to your personal space. addicting yet a dick move he was doing because in all, he very much likes you. and this time, this time it all snaps at the pinnacle seeing you shamelessly stare at his lips.

“thank you.” you softly say, glancing at his lips, the fangs subtly showing behind them as miguel swiftly dips forward to finally kiss you with such fervor.

your eyes widened as you gripped his broad shoulders, toes tip toeing, heart pounding as his arms wrapped around your waist. you moan out on his lips as you kissed him back the same passion. months of ignoring the unspoken tension between the two of you and at this moment it happened! you think that this all sinks in because of the situation, and you are right in your head. all of this should happen.

“miguel.” you pant breathily between his lips as he shushed you with another one, too lost in the moment.

“miguel please.” you begged for more as his hands dip down to squeeze your ass, lifting you up effortlessly with his spidey strength as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips.

“i know.” he kisses your chin down to your neck, slowly walking to the desk nearby. your breasts squished together with his hard chest as you grind down, feeling the evident bulge underneath you.

“you’re an ass, ya know?” you mumbled in his ear as he sits you down on the desk, objects scattering at the impact. he continues his ministrations, the things he was supposed to do are far long gone in his head as his hand dip down to where your legs were open for him.

“that i certainly know.” he admits, you giggle suddenly knowing how defensive he is when people point that out.

“but right now, i’m being very nice, amor. very nice.” he whispers, nipping your ear as his gloved hand touches you there, the pencil skirt you were wearing scrunched up above your knees. you gasp, clutching his shoulders again as he chuckles lowly, feeling the wetness as his eyes stared at you with this animosity as he kneels down, kissing your thighs before he sharply opens your thighs wide. your covered cunt staring right before him, begging to be eaten and he sure will be. he looks up to see you, this wild look in your eyes as you nodded for approval which makes him genuinely smile.

“i’m feeling generous today. it’s a once in a lifetime scenario, huh? so you better feel lucky today.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

I HOPE I DIDN’T MAKE MIGUEL OOC CUZ I ONLY WATCHED THE MOVIE ONCE. ANYWAYS PART 2? <3

[darknight3904]

Better Than Revenge

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ, ᴏʟᴅ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ ᴅɪᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ. ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀꜱʟɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀᴛᴇᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ꜱᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ᴏᴋᴀʏ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ʙᴏꜱꜱ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ / ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ! ʙʏ ᴏʟɪᴠɪᴀ ʀᴏᴅʀɪɢᴏ

Coriolanus was sure he was dreaming. There was no way you had actually shown up to this. But sure enough, there you were shaking hands and accepting hugs from stuffy old Capitol residents like you were their long-lost daughter. He had been trying to get in contact with you for so long now and it had been nothing but silence and being turned away from your family home. The only current information he had on you was that you were skipping university entirely and taking over your mother's position as head of technical operations for the games. Initially, he had thought that meant he might see you during his work with Gaul but you never showed, clearly, you had been stationed elsewhere.

His time in District 12 and whatever had happened between him and Lucy had cleared his head. He had come back with his goals set in his mind and was determined not to fall victim to another girl's spell just because she had a pretty voice. And yet, as he stood across the room from you, he knew that you were going to be trouble for him. What was it you had broken up with him about? He could scarcely remember, that dress you donned tonight was so distracting with its plunging neckline and shimmering fabric, it should be illegal to look that good.

He felt his throat dry up when you began walking towards him. Why were you coming to greet him? Oh right, this was a party about him and his success with his new ideas that would be used in the games in just a matter of weeks.

"Coryo! It's been a while." You beam reaching out to shake his hand

"Yes, it has. I didn't know you would be attending tonight." He said stiffly, feeling your eyes roam across his chosen suit for the evening. Suddenly, he found himself hoping you liked what you saw.

"Well, I'm sure you know I've taken over my mother's company so of course someone would have to come to represent it." You smile

Oh right. That. The soft clicks of cameras went off from somewhere, these photos between Gaul's prodigy and the girl, no woman, who was working to make sure the games would be seen from every angle would surely be published by a news outlet before the evening was over

"Your dress is exquisite." He compliments, trying to ignore the way your chest was taunting him.

"Thank you. I see you're still wearing roses on your lapel, some things don't change do they?" You say, following his stare to your chest.

Busted. You knew he was ogling you.

Coriolanus wanted to move this conversation and brush past the fact that he wanted to tear that damn dress off but he wasn't entirely sure how to reply to a statement like that. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to figure it out since an unwanted interruption cut in.

"I got you that drink you wanted, hon." A man cut in wrapping a meaty arm around your waist

Okay, who the hell was this?

"Oh thank you, I'm so thirsty." You smile and accept the dainty glass.

"Oh Coryo, this is Aesop." You introduce them, "Aesop, this is Cor-"

"Wow, Mr. Snow, I never thought I'd get to meet you! Your work with Dr. Gaul is rumored to be historic." Aesop gushes, cutting you off like he's some desperate fanboy.

Coriolanus finds himself nodding and pretending like Aesop's words mean a lot to him. Instead, Coriolanus lets him vomit his praises while he takes in the newest man who you deem worthy of your affections. He wasn't necessarily bad-looking, with a strong-looking build accompanied by sharp features and dark curly hair, Coriolanus wouldn't dare call him unattractive, in the face at least. Aesop's choice of outfit for tonight though told a different story. It was rather plain, just a simple black suit and a dark blue pocket square to try to add some color while attempting to match your dress which was simply hypnotic compared to that monstrosity of a suit.

"So what's next?"

Aesop was still talking to him? Someone needs to tell him when to stop talking.

"I'm sorry could you repeat your question I wasn't listening." He says honestly

"I was just asking what you had planned for your future. Surely the great Mr. Snow I hear about from my mother isn't just going to stop at being a game maker." Aesop says, clearly curious about those rumors about his possible presidential campaign.

Coriolanus doesn't miss the way his arm, which was once wrapped around your waist, drop so it rested on your hips and his hand was dangerously close to your ass. What a pig. He wishes he could be the one doing that, not the Capitol's worst-dressed man who didn't seem to even be worthy of being here let alone have you on his arm.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see. After all, Snow lands on top." He smirks and Aesop nods.

Aesop doesn't have much to say after that and Coriolanus makes no move to continue the conversation so an awkward silence falls over the conversation. The soft notes of the piano interrupt Coriolanus' judging of Aesop's outfit and he finds himself asking before he can discern whether or not this is a good idea.

"Would you like to dance? For old time's sake."

He doesn't expect you to say yes but you surprise him by placing your drink in Aesop's hands and pressing a kiss to the poorly dressed man's cheek. He doesn't miss the way you whisper something in Aesop's ear before taking his hand so he can lead you to the dance floor.

"I like your new hair. The curls were very nice but this new style makes you look very sophisticated." You say as he leads the dance

"What the hell are you doing?" He asks, genuinely curious as to what game you're playing

"Um, what are you talking about?" You ask a genuine look of surprise on your pretty face.

"You come in here dressed like this, with that....thing hanging off your arm, and you act like nothing is wrong between us and compliment me." He spits, upset that he seems to have been replaced so easily.

"What are you going on about now? You can't mean the breakup you caused, right?" You ask, a smug grin on your face

"I didn't break up with anyone." He defended, his face twisting with anger.

"Did Lucy Gray hit you in the head when you were with her? You seem a bit confused as to who ended our relationship." You say

Did you know what happened in the forest between them? Did you know that he nearly ran off with her and how she disappeared into the trees before he could get her? No, you couldn't possibly, there were no other witnesses other than him and Lucy. Unless that damn Covey of her was spreading rumors. He'd have to look into them soon.

"No, she has nothing to do with this. Where we are now is all on you." He says, stopping the dance, upset that you'd even think of mentioning her. Honestly, why would you even think that he was entangled with her, he was sure you heard the rumors of how they fell out.

"You're joking right. I still have that video evidence of you two kissing if you want to come back to mine and rewatch it, you clearly are not remembering correctly. I don't have any issues reminding you how you hurt me. " You say dropping his hand

"I remember just fine, thank you. I remember perfectly that you're the one who caused our end after you went crazy over something that wasn't even real." He said, upset that you weren't accepting what he was saying.

His eyes widen when you step towards him. You're so close he can smell that fruit-smelling perfume you love so much. From across the room, it might look like two old friends whispering funny secrets to each other.

"If it wasn't real then why did you chase her? I know about your little bribe that got you sent to twelve instead of eight. You can't manipulate me the way you do everyone else, Coryo."

And then you're walking away from him and back into the arms of that Aesop and his ugly fashion decisions. He could barely believe what had just transpired. He hadn't ever had a girl that walked away from him like that, he had thought he had become irresistible to so many, and yet here you were leaving him on the dance floor after insulting him.

Coriolanus certainly had a lot of nerve, you'd give him that. Not only was he completely deluded about what had happened between the two of you but he clearly couldn't accept you moving on from him. Of course, you knew he'd be like this. It had been only a week or so after Dr. Gaul had brought him back from District 12 that he started showing up at your family home, asking your mother, father, and even the maids if you would see him. You had instructed them all to turn him away and yet every time he showed up you'd wait and watch as he walked away, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

You had been right, your Coryo would come running back. You knew that Songbird of his would turn on him eventually. Rumors swirled around the inner circles of the Capitol that she had disappeared or perhaps she was dead. Despite the rumors that came in hushed whispers, you had a gut feeling Coriolanus had something to do with it. Did he scare the poor bird off? Or maybe harm her so she'd never return to Panem? Either way, no one had a clear story on her, but all you knew was that her dulcet voice would never charm Coriolanus again. With Lucy Gray gone, you knew exactly what you wanted, you were going to get Coriolanus Snow back.

Getting him back meaning revenge, of course. Why would any sane person want to get him back romantically?

You started with small things, things you knew would deepen his interest in you again. Some days you deliberately made sure you were in Dr. Gaul's lab talking to the crazy woman when he showed up after his university had ended for the day.

"When did you start working here?" He asks when he sees you in the lab for the first time

"Oh, Dr. Gaul and I are busy coordinating the camera angles and such. It's easier just to work here with her rather than send assistants from my office with information. More direct, you know."

He nods and takes his place at his own desk but you don't miss how he smiles to himself, undoubtedly happy you're here with him.

What a fool he's turned out to be.

Other times you'd make sure to wear red, the same shade as the coat he seemed to love so dearly, and then bump into him as he walked through the Department of War.

"You ought to look where you're walking." He says, after practically body slamming into him.

The force hadn't been enough to move him but you had ended up on the cold ground on your ass. What the hell did they feed him in District 12? A brick wall? No man should be that sturdy.

"Right, sorry about that." You smile taking his hand and letting him pull you to your feet

You feel Coriolanus' eyes roam your outfit choice. A white button down paired with a deep red pencil skirt and tall heels, you must've looked good because he didn't say much and let you do the talking as you walked to Gaul's lab together, not letting go of his hand.

The cherry on top though, had to be the day you wore a low-cut shirt to a meeting about this year's games. You knew what made that boy tick and sure enough, his eyes were locked on your chest for the entire presentation on the new audio systems you were planning to get installed in the arena. He really hasn't changed much, has he?

"What are you doing after this?" He whispered next to you as Gaul displayed photos of whatever new terrors she had planned for this year's Tributes.

"Nothing interesting. I was planning on eating dinner and then perhaps taking a long bath." You say honestly

"Want to eat dinner with me?" He asked, a grin spread across his face

There was that boyish charm that had convinced you to enter a relationship in the first place.

"Sure. As long as you aren't the one cooking." You smile, knowing he was the worst chef in all of Panem.

Coriolanus stifles a laugh, which he tries to disguise as a cough when Dr. Gaul looks at him mid-sentence about the reproductive organs of whatever mutt she had drummed up.

"Oh trust me, I won't be. There's a nice place a couple of blocks away." He says

"It's a date." You smile

Coriolanus wasn't lying when he said the restaurant was nice. Pretty white tablecloths adorned the tables along with candles and delicate-looking roses atop each of them. A huge crystal chandelier was the real eye-catcher though, you loved the way it glimmered in the light.

"You know I was joking when I said this was a date, Coryo." You say as you wait for the hostess to help the man in front of you.

"Why? I'd love to go on another date with you." He smiles, bumping his shoulder with yours

"Right because our last stab at a relationship went so well." You roll your eyes

"I personally think we worked well together." He said confidently

"You're joking, right? You literally called me insane." You remind him

"Look, I don't want to fight. Let's just have a nice meal, okay?" He says, not denying his actions for once

"Yeah, okay." You agree, not missing the way his eyes roll.

The hostess is a bit overly eager to seat you both, she gushes over Coriolanus' coat and how sharp it makes him look, taking special care to not even spare a glance at you. Despite your annoyance, you don't miss how Coriolanus eats the attention up and flirts right back despite just proclaiming how he wants to go on another date with you. Honestly, where does this man even get the nerve?

"So what's good here?" You ask when she finally leaves but not until after she complimented his eyes and hair.

"You haven't been here? I come here often, the chicken dish they serve is particularly wonderful." He says, pretending like he wasn't interested in her.

"No, I haven't been here. Some of us work instead of spending their money on fancy chicken." You roll your eyes at his posh tone.

"Alright, sorry. Don't get all crazy on me again." He huffs, hiding his face behind his menu, pretending to stare at it when it only had 3 options on it.

Silence settles over the table as you pretend to weigh your options like you aren't going to take his recommendation and get the chicken. As you sit there and pretend to look at your menu, you glance at him and his perfect hair. His face is just as you remember it although it was a tad bit more stern than it was before he was sent to District 12. Whatever Lucy Gray did to him had sent him spiraling that was certain. A portly-looking man comes up to your table and pours you both glasses of wine before opening his mouth to speak.

"Mr. Snow, I am the manager of this restaurant and I'd like to personally extend a warm welcome to you and your guest tonight. If there's anything you need, please ask. You as well, ma'am."

You smile politely and nod as Coriolanus thanks the man and shakes his hand.

"You know this could be your life all the time if you wanted to give the two of us a try again." He says after dismissing the manager.

"What do you mean?" You ask confused, he already knew you had money of your own, definitely enough to attend a restaurant like this, it just wasn't your personal style.

"You'd never have to work again with me at your side. I'm sure you've heard that I'm planning to run for the presidency soon. I'm the favored candidate as well." He says confidently, reaching out so that your hands are linked across the table

"What makes you think that I would want to never work again. I enjoy running my company. It's my mother's blood sweat and tears that went into it." You defend, watching how his thumbs run over the backs of your hands. To anyone else, this might look like a romantic conversation between lovers

"I'm just saying you could be the First Lady of Panem one day with me and you'd never want for anything else. All you'd ever have to do is sit by my side." He smiles, almost kindly at you

"So you want to lock me up in some big house somewhere, just for yourself." You say, seeing through his honey-coated words

"If you're not interested then why the hell did you even accept my invitation to come here? Why have you been popping into Gaul's lab when I'm there, and don't think I haven't noticed that low-cut shirt of yours. Are you into parading yourself around like a common whore for everyone else to see? What would Aesop think?" He suddenly snaps, harshly grabbing onto your hands and squeezing.

There he was, the man of the hour. This is who Coriolanus Snow truly was, not whatever charming front he liked to wear around so many, including you. You smiled, that front, the wall he had built oh so perfectly, brick by brick had crumbled and the snake had finally come out to play.

"You think I'm a whore? How sweet of you, Coryo. You should know I love pet names in a relationship, that's why Aesop calls me hon." You say not blinking an eye as his nails dig into your skin.

You can tell your reaction isn't what he had planned because he recoils slightly and the pressure in your hands drops just a bit.

"If you weren't interested in me then why have you been acting like...some love-struck teen the past few weeks? Why the... eye-catching shirt today for a business meeting? You knew I was still interested in you so why are you rejecting me now?" He asks, clearly genuinely upset and curious

"Oh come on, Coryo I thought it would be obvious." You smirk

"Well, it isn't. And, you should know I hate lies now , so how about we agree to not lie to each other." He says, in desperate need of your answer.

You nod, and he releases your hands, satisfied with your submission

"Coryo, the reason I did all those things is quite obvious in fact, I'm sure that even little Lucy Gray would've been able to tell the reasons behind my actions."

You want to laugh at the way he squirms in his fancy chair when her name falls from your lips. While you once viewed her as some little homewrecker, you now saw her as an ally. The perfect ally to shatter this man's fragile ego. Whatever she had done to him, she got him good. Now, all you had to do was finish the job.

"You see, Coriolanus, I'm honestly surprised you didn't realize sooner, given you're so good at it yourself, by the way, don't think I don't know what really happened to Dean Highbottom or Sejanus Plinth. I know what you are, Coryo. Your sweet seductive words and pretty face can only get you so far." You let a smile stretch across your face, you were truly enjoying the climax of this game, "The reason behind my actions and my pretty shirt that you've been staring down all day and enjoying is simple really, it's just a little revenge. Revenge for how you made me feel when you went running off with Lucy Gray. It's revenge for whatever you may or may not have done to her in the forest of District 12. It's as plain and as simple as just a girl getting revenge on a past lover."

You stand from your seat and watch Coriolanus' eyes widen he finally realizes that you had been stringing him on for weeks ever since that party. You want to laugh at the way his hands had balled up into fists and his face reddened. Perhaps he'd start crying. Now that would be funny.

"Why?" He asks, unwilling to meet your eyes

"Why? Because it was fun of course. I've got my sweet revenge on a man who thought he was oh-so untouchable and you're feeling what I felt when you ran off with your Songbird. .I hope you have a wonderful evening, Coriolanus, " You explain smoothly, leaning down so your lips brush his ear, "See you in the lab tomorrow. I'll make sure to wear a shirt you'll like. "

You turn and gather your own belongings, a wide smile stretched across your face as you left him at that table. That shaken look that adorned Coriolanus' pretty face made one thing clear: you had got him back for every inch of pain he had ever caused you and Lucy Gray Baird. As you walked out of the door of that fancy restaurant he loved so much, one thought rang clear in your head, there truly was nothing better than revenge.

Part 3

Guys imagine being Coryo in this fic. First, you get dumped by your gf bc of your situationship. Then your situationship falls apart and you think you might be able to get back with your ex. So, you return home and think your ex wants you again since they're sending out signals, only to find out they've been leading you on for funsies. He's going through it.

Read the teaser for it here

If you want more Coryo content check out my masterlist. I plan to possibly release It Burns For You Part 3 on either December 3rd or 4th so stay tuned!

Taglist:

@daenerysqueenofhearts @minaxcarter

@superchatnoir07 @readz4u @darktrashsoulbear @prettyinsatiable

@angeljcca @katherines-imagines @coryoskywalker @jackchampionwhore @lauriesluver @loveangela1556

@sainzlover @snapcracklen @juliesjar @alexameliamg

@sadanimethots-blog @2008tillthen13 @f1rodrigo @dylanswifeyp

@junefoster @miglielia @cosmicgyral @jenniquinn @enkimorphe

@yungluv-com @whosthis-posts @lokidala @mrsjobarnes @dakotali

@lucy284 @lacysversion @wpdarlingpan @sterredem @unclecrunkle @fangirl-ehatt @in-luvaisis @justabritishgirlx@nicksolemnlyswears @darlingisntit@lunampacheco @just-a-pink-lady@ilovechickenwings @bubblegumholland @pandapanda698 @anneliese500 @superb-icarus @user556677889900 @fauxraven @clintsupremacy @phiniology @dear-bunnyboo @ghostlycrystobalove

[stevebabey]

Eddie is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever reach a point where Steve couldn’t reduce him to this state.

This state being… transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, he’d probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.

But Eddie can’t move his eyes. Can’t even close his mouth either.

Steve’s talking to him too, which is most definitely worse — he’s totally missing every word. He can see Steve’s lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.

Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?

Or is it Eddie, just a starved man who’s been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, he’s learning, he’s allowed to look.

And by God, is he looking.

Steve’s not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when he’s cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddie’s lingering gaze.

This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.

He’s got some old sport shorts on and he’s clearly grown a bit since he first got them— unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They haven’t. Eddie would know if they did.)

He’s wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. It’s a little on the scrappy side though, considering it’s nearly see-through with how worn it is.

Honestly, in Eddie’s humble and gay opinion, it’s stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steve’s chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesn’t make Eddie happy, he doesn’t know what will.

But it’s not even that.

Quite frankly, Eddie’s rather embarrassed that he’s basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.

But… but he’s yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motions— that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.

Eddie can’t stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and he’s not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steve’s tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie can’t help imagining how they must look when Steve’s got his hand aroun—

“—hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Steve’s voice cuts into Eddie’s dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. It’s the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steve’s arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.

“Hello.” Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. “I mean- yes. I’m—”

Eddie decides mid-sentence that he’s not getting away with the lie. He pivots. “Okay, no, I didn’t hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?”

Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but there’s an adoring grin on his lips.

“Man of mine,” Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. “You just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? I’m just doing this room then I’ll be done, if you don’t like the noise.”

Eddie adores that Steve’s taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. “I’m just gonna…”

He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (he’s unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.

It’s mortifying. It’s hilarious. He can never tell Steve.

Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie can’t help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.

He decides it’s worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.

Steve teasingly promises that he’ll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddie’s abject reaction (“Don’t you dare.”) looking far too smug— in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.

Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steve’s lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.

Eddie doesn’t mind — he’s too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.

[evilminji]

You know... >.>

My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.

Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?

Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.

So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.

Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.

Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.

So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.

Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.

Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.

They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.

Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.

They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.

Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.

Which she was.

Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)

They have Apology Bribes.

They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...

Maybe...

That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?

They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...

And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...

She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.

Fine.

"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"

And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.

The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.

But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?

It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.

Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.

Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!

But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?

Uuuuuuhhhh?

Hi?

That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!

Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.

Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...

Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.

Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.

Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

[vinceaddams]

Early 18th (and late 17th) century fashions are so under-utilized in vampire media and I think it's a damn shame.

I don't actually think I've ever seen a single image of a vampire character in an early 18th century suit. Hardly any movies set in that era either, and hardly any historical costumers who do it. (Even my beloved gay pirate show set in 1717 takes nearly all of its 18th century looks from the second half of the century. Not enough appreciation for baroque fashion!!)

Yes I love late 18th century fashion as much as anyone, and 19th century formal suits are all very well and good, but if you want something that says old, dead, wealthy, and slightly dishevelled, then the 1690's-1730's are where it's at.

(Retrato del Virrey Alencastre Noroña y Silva, Duque de Linares, ca. 1711-1723.)

There was so much dark velvet, and so many little metallic buttons & buttonholes. Blood red linings were VERY fashionable in this era, no matter what the colour of the rest of the suit was.

(Johann Christoph Freiherr von Bartenstein by Martin van Meytens the Younger, 1730's.)

The slits on the front of the shirts are super low, they button only at the collar, and it's fashionable to leave most of the waistcoat unbuttoned so the shirt sticks out, as seen in the above portraits.

(Portrait of Anne Louis Goislard de Montsabert, Comte de Richbourg-le-Toureil, 1734.)

Waistcoats are very long, coats are very full, and the cuffs are huge. But the sleeves are on the shorter side to show off more of that shirt, and the ruffles if it has them! Creepy undead hands with long nails would sit so nicely under those ruffles.

(1720's-30's, LACMA)

Embroidery designs are huge and chunky and often full of metallic threads, and the brocade designs even bigger.

(1730's, V&A, metal and silk embroidery on silk satin.)

Sometimes they did this fun thing where the coat would have contrasting cuffs made from the same fabric as the waistcoat.

(Niklaus Sigmund Steiger by Johann Rudolf Huber, 1724.)

Tell me this look isn't positively made for vampires!

(Portrait of Jean-Baptiste de Roll-Montpellier, 1713.)

(Yeah I am cherry-picking mostly red and black examples for this post, and there are plenty of non-vampire-y looking images from this time, but you get the idea!)

And the wrappers (at-home robes) were also cut very large, and, if you could afford it, made with incredible brocades.

(Portrait of a nobleman by Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess maybe 1680's or 90's.)

(Circle of Giovanni Maria delle Piane, no date given but I'd guess very late 17th or very early 18th century.)

Now that looks like a child who's been stuck at the same age for a hundred years if I ever saw one!

I don't know as much about the women's fashion from this era, but they had many equally large and elabourate things.

(1730's, Museo del Traje.)

(Don't believe The Met's shitty dating, this is a robe volante from probably the 1720's.)

(Mantua, c. 1708, The Met. No idea why they had to be that specific when they get other things wrong by entire decades but ok.)

(Portrait of Duchess Colavit Piccolomini, 1690's.)

(Maria van Buttinga-van Berghuys by Hermannus Collenius, 1717.)

Sometimes they also had these cute little devil horn hair curls that came down on either side of the forehead.

(Viago in drag Portrait of a lady, Italian School, c. 1690.)

Enough suave Victorian vampires, I want to see Baroque ones! With huge wigs and brocade coat cuffs so big they go past the elbow!

[aesthetic-bbyg]

SWEETNESS ~ BUGGY

LA!buggy x straw hat!reader

Based off of this post bc it made me giggle PT 2

Nattie speaks: y’all this mf clown has no right to be so fine but LAWRD. I’d do anything just for one lick. This is short nd simple but cute🤭

ZORO DRAGGED HIS FEET across the wooden floors of the Going Merry, ignoring the muffled screeching of the clown head inside the dark sack as he set his eyes on thing. Nightfall was approaching, everyone on the ship wanted some rest, yet nobody was getting any with the constant whining of Buggy. The green haired man pushed open your door, making you jumped slightly as you looked towards him with a raised brow.

“I give up, all yours now.” Zoro voiced practically dripped in annoyance, he tossed the sack across the room, making it land onto the soft cushion of your bed before slamming the door behind him.

You could hear groans coming from the sack, “Damn you, you fucking broccoli-haired ass!” You chuckled softly, putting down the comb you had in your hand and walking towards the scruffy bag. As you released the clown head he sighed in content, breathing in the fresh scent of berries that engulfed the room. “Ah, sweetness, so good to see you!”

“Nice to see you too, Buggy.” You giggled, “You doing alright there?” You asked, smiling a bit as the man got comfortable on your bed.

“Much better now that I have you in front of me.” He winked with a flirtatious smirk on his red painted lips. “I definitely thought he was going to put me with that weird chef guy again so he could chop me into piece and cook me or something.”

“Looks like you got lucky today.” You smirked back, grabbing him and placing him on the small vanity, going back to combing through your hair. Buggy was a simple man, with simple needs, especially since his whole body was gone. The angle his head was facing gave him more fuel into his dirty thoughts. His eyes directly faced your chest, eyes captured on the line of cleavage peeking from the low cut tank top you had on. He was hypnotized by you, for the first time since he was taken by Luffy and placed on the ship to sail away to Arlong island he’d gone completely silent.

You simply hummed, clueless of how the clown shifted slightly to get a closer view. You suddenly let out a huff, dropping the comb and looking over at the clown. “Y’know, I like having you around here, you totally make me feel special and even though the rest of the crew might really, really not like you, know I’m on your side.”

“Mhmm.” Buggy hummed in response, eyes hungrily watching you. “I appreciate that, sweetness.”

You smiled. “You hungry?” You stood up and took him in your arms, cradling him carefully like he was a baby. The blue hairs that peaked from under the striped bandana tickled your skin.

Buggy enjoyed being around you, especially since you were so generous and careful with him, the others simply tossed him into the sack or an empty barrel whenever he even spoke. But you, you fed him, you defended him, you took care of him and did the exact opposite of what everyone else did. “I’m hungry for one thing, that’s for sure, sweetness.” The clown replied, eyes still clued onto your tits as you entered the small kitchen.

“Hey, maybe we can brush through that tangled mess once we get a quick snack.” You replied giddily with a big smile, “Hey, and wanna know another thing—“ You heard a string of groans follow as soon as you stepped into the room with Buggy.

“I gave him to you specifically to get away from him.” Zoro groaned, making Sanji nod in agreement.

“I’ll be out soon, stop your whining.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, reaching for the basket of fruit and picking out two apples. You picked up a knife and cutting board, quickly going to work and chopping up a few apple slices. “So as I was saying, nobody has ever taken me seriously, which why I also like you, you don’t make fun of me which is what many others do.”

Zoro and Sanji glanced at eachother with questioning looks as you proceeded with your mini rant, both of them making eye contact with the clown head that smirked at them, a cheeky look in his eyes.

“But I mean, Luffy chose me to be a part of his crew so obviously I can be more, I’m not dumb, and I feel like more people need to take me seriously.”

“Hey.” The clown smirked as he watched your every move, finally speaking up about his slight obsessing with your chest. “Nice tits.”

“Thank you!” You happily replied with a smile, placing the slices on a clean plate and taking Buggy back to your room as everyone stared in shock. “Goodnight boys!”

“Yeah, goodnight fellas!” Buggy called out, and if only he’d had the rest of his body he’d most definitely be given them a middle finger.

“How is it that a clown can do better at getting that girl then me?” Sanji muttered in annoyance.

Forever will live, love, and laugh Buggy

yummy, I <3 men who are bbyg’s

[dixons-sunshine]

The Archer's Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp takes a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.

Genre: Fluff, some angst.

Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.

Word count: 4.4k.

A/n: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It's my favourite thing in the whole world. However, I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he'd be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he'd be with someone he's been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he'd totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he's just getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Also, Carol is being a supportive queen in this because @celtic-crossbow's Blood Ties series has made me appreciate Carol more and made me realize that she would always be so supportive of someone who's pregnant. Anyways, I hope you like this!

(specially dedicated to @mydearestdaryl because we planned this fic in my comment section a while ago and I'm only getting to it now.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl!” you called out, trying to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up your side. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.

Barely one minute ago, you had strayed from Daryl's side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.

However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.

On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man who's body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.

A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person's grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.

“S'me! S'jus' me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight before you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one'a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab 'em in the head, alrigh'? S'the only way they drop dead.”

“What? I don't—”

“Dun' think 'bout it, peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain't alive. The news weren't lyin' to us 'bout the dead risin'. We got a real fucking problem on our hands now.”

Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl's truck. It would've been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.

Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren't escaping without a fight.

“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly, your knuckles started turning white.

“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment's notice. “Ya gotta stab 'em in the head as hard as ya can, alrigh'? Dun' think 'bout 'em bein' alive. These assholes ain't alive.”

“Don't worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I'm not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They're not touching me.”

“Atta girl,” he praised with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around the parking area.

As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver's seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.

You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn't wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.

Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing's skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.

“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky. “Please tell me the prick didn't get ya. No bites, scratches, nothin'.”

“I'm okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”

“Yeah, let's g—”

The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.

“Y'all jus' gon' stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin' truck? I did not risk my life gettin' here jus' to watch y'all get eaten alive.”

Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “Wha' the fuck are ya even doin' here?!”

“Helpin' yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C'mon, let's go!”

Daryl didn't need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver's side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle's motorcycle. With all the chaos that unfolded, the two of you hadn't even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent and Daryl's crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you'd be able to wash them. And Daryl's crossbow would more than likely come in handy.

“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.

You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed wasn't human anymore. If you didn't kill it, it would've killed you. It would've killed—

Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if possible.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned. “Oh, god. S'somethin' wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”

“No! No, nothing's wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It's just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”

Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.

“S'okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon' be a bad mom. With everythin' goin' on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S'cause of it tha' ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they're here, I know yer gon' do yer absolute best to protect 'em.”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn't on your stomach over his hand. “I really hope so.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

One month had passed. One month since the dead started walking. One month since everything you knew got destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life turned upside down.

You sighed as you washed one of Daryl's jeans, subtly listening to the other women's conversation, the other women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the women in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods because of the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn't be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the impression, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer's girl, and you were pretty sure they didn't even know your actual name.

Most of the women didn't even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she talked to you. She offered you tips on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband's socks, and so much more. She was the only one who you'd felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, so even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you deeply appreciated her.

Without her, you probably would've snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you cherished the friendship you had formed with her.

The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness only reserved for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.

“Ya know all'a tha' washin' s'now ruined 'cause ya dropped it in mud, righ'?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.

You smiled and shrugged. “It's your jeans. I've never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer righ',” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin'.”

“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daryl sighed, fidgeting with his hands. “But tha' Shane prick demanded tha' I go on another hunt again fer some reason. I dun' know why, 'cause we have 'nough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out of the camp if I didn't go now. We can't leave. 'Specially not now.”

Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl's eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren't born yet. His little Peanut.

You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and didn't miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.

Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain't no tellin'. Walsh demanded tha' I find some venison, and tha' might take me a while. Dun' even know if there are any deer here.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, sunshine.”

With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.

They hadn't heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that's more than most could say about their own past relationships.

It was clear the two of you shared something special, and it was unfair to them that they couldn't find love like that. And with the world ending, they doubted that they ever would.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle's disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing he was there.

It seemed like baby Dixon noticed their father's absence, and they weren't happy about it. For the past three days, you hadn't managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again a few hours later, and it wasn't exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew the contents of your stomach out, so nobody knew of your pregnancy yet.

And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus.

“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.

“It's what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”

Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How'd you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”

“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I'm not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”

“I can't,” you denied. “Then everyone will look at me like I'm carrying the plague and see me as just another liability. I can't have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”

“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”

“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”

Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I'll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”

“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly, worry lacing your tone.

“Don't worry, I won't tell him,” she reassured you. “I'll just tell him I'm feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn't corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he'll believe it.”

You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”

She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days, that didn't work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he'd be extremely mad if you did.

No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he'd be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you'd spiral into an abyss you didn't want to go down.

The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.

“Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.

Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile.

“It's okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.

“What's your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you didn't like.

“My story?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “What's a pretty girl like yourself doing with a lowlife nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the redneck. Why?”

“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.

“Bullshit. There's gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There's no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what's he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”

Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane's deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane's nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.

“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”

Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane's eyes, something unusual for the for the man. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.

“Listen'a me real fuckin' close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun' care wha' ya say 'bout me, but if ya ever talk 'bout my pregnant wife like tha' again, I'll do so much worse than jus' break yer nose. Ya dun' talk to her, ya dun' look at her, ya dun' even breathe the same fuckin' air as her. If ya do, I'll skin ya alive and feed the remainin' pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.

“Yer venison's on the table. Next time, go hunt fer it yer fuckin' self.”

Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol's hold and took Daryl's hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn't even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.

Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles while the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he'd never act like that around you ever again, but Shane made him break that promise.

“I'm not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”

“M'sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S'jus'... Hearin' the way he talked 'bout ya, like ya were some object who's worth he could judge... I dun' know. It made me pissed. Ya dun' deserve to be treated like tha'. 'Specially not when yer carryin' a baby in yer belly. Speakin' of, m'sorry I reveal yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep tha' hidden.”

You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It's okay. They would've found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin' one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut's gon' have one hell of a mama.”

“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”

“Love ya more, peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling. “Love ya too, Peanut.”

The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.

“Y/n?” she called out. “I've got that ginger tea I promised you.”

“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.

“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. Seems like Baby Dixon doesn't like when their daddy's not here.”

“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won't mind if I stick 'round.”

“Hm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a slight giggle. “I guess I'll keep you around.”

“Tha's real good to hear.”

Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother in law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.

“When the fuck were ya plannin' on tellin' me ya got yer whore pregnant.”

Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother's words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus' say, Merle?!”

“Ya heard me, boy.”

God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.

Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Of Ghouls and Drugs

Request: "ok so I'm absolutely obsessed with that coop fic you did where reader helps him when he's injured and it's super domestic and fluffy....could you maybe do something where the roles are reversed and he helps the reader who's injured? maybe she's a little shaken up over it too and he calms her down and it's just very sweet and soft. thank you i adore your writing so much 💖" A/N: First of all, the reception of my Fallout content has been amazing. If you're one of the people who have liked/reblogged/replied/shared/saved/etc, I am eternally grateful to you. Second, thank you once again to the anon who sent this request! It's a bit of a switcharoo from Stuck Like Glue, so if you need some more Cooper content, check that out or take a peek at my Fallout Masterlist! Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence Summary: Injured and scared, you can always count on your Cowboy to save the day.

Word Count: 1.7k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

You don’t know why you’re hyperventilating. 

Sure, you’d been in countless fights and been scared more times than you can remember. In the Wasteland, if you’re not scared every now and again, you’re dead. But today, cornered in a decrepit open-air shopping mall store while a hoard of feral ghouls claw at the rusty security gate, you’re frozen with fear. 

It was an old clothing store, picked apart by scavengers and ravaged by time. Everything was covered in a thick blanket of dust, from the old checkout counter to the racks of high heels that sit untouched. Unfortunately for you, it hadn’t been a department store you ducked into where there could be some hope of escape. This one was a small boutique-type outlet with one way in and one impassable way out. Furthermore, the roll-down security door currently saving your life had been pure luck on your part. The lever for it was broken off and mounted on the side of the entrance; you’d only found it after the damn thing had torn your upper arm to shreds in your haste to get away. 

And now you’re ducked behind the checkout counter, old patterned men’s tie wrapped tightly around your bicep in a poor excuse of a tourniquet. You were out of ammo, banking on the security gate holding until the ghouls got bored or forgot about you. But there was something about today, about how they’d come charging from the darkness the second Cooper had left to turn in your latest bounty, that terrified you. Feral ghouls were shells of people with no logic or sense left in them, but the attack had felt calculated, planned. You argued with yourself, knowing they had basic instinct and probably just singled you out after another of their kind left.

Then again, maybe you’re conflating your fear of Cooper becoming one of them one day with the looming fear of death. 

Unable to do anything about it, you sit behind the counter and shake. Your breath comes in quick punches, inhales cutting off the exhales and vice versa. The iron smell of your own blood is overwhelming. Despite the tourniquet, warm liquid leaks down your arm and drips into a thick crimson puddle beneath you. Your backpack, full of stimpaks and every chem known to man, is abandoned just outside the gate. The damn thing had been torn away when you’d got caught on the jagged lever, beyond your reach and unable to be saved. 

The ghouls wail and groan while clawing at the gate, the sound of rattling metal echoing around the store’s walls. It’s deafening to the point where you cover your ears, accepting the fact that you’re screwed either way. Blood loss or ghoul attack, it doesn’t matter. Cooper’s long gone towards the last town, and you’re cursing the apparently lackluster job the two of you did making sure your camp was secure. 

“Take a look around.” He’d told you, “Getch’yu some new clothes if you need ‘em.”

Cooper’s voice and kiss goodbye lingers in your thoughts as you hold your hands over your ears. It’s a more pleasant thought than the ghouls outside. Your ghoul always keeps you safe. 

“Darlin’.” 

You almost smile to yourself, probably delusional from blood loss. 

“Hey!”

Your name slipping out of Cooper’s mouth dances across your foggy mind. 

“Goddamn it woman, open your eyes.” 

Something shakes your whole body, and your eyes snap open. 

At first it’s too dark for you to recognize any solid features, and you scramble away. The missing nose and scarred flesh blend together in your mind. You swing your injured arm in blind panic, which has the tourniquet breaking loose and bright arterial blood spattering the floor.

But you hear a voice calling through the haze. Soft and slow, like it’s calling to a wounded animal. “Ay, ay ay. Calm down now, sweetheart.”

You squint through the darkness, fighting dizziness. A familiar silhouette makes itself apparent. 

“Cooper?”

His face, weathered by radiation and pain, is usually twisted into a dramatic scowl. But right now it’s concerned, brow furrowed into worry that you’d never seen. The sounds of ghouls and impending doom have vanished. 

“It’s me, babydoll.” He almost coos at you, reaching out a hand. “C’mere.”

Your emotions rage, and tears burn at your eyes. You reach out a hand and brush the one he’s holding out, but your fingertips barely catch on the seam of his gloves.  You squeeze to make sure he’s real. He wraps strong fingers around your wrist and pulls you in. 

It’s easy to give in as his familiar scent and feel washes over you. Gunpowder and smoke are the main notes, but you catch the leather of his duster and the unavoidable grime provided by the Wasteland. The tears flow easily out the corner of your eyes and drip down your cheek.

“I-I don’t know where they came from.” You clutch at his coat, “Scared the hell out of me.”

Cooper is still moving despite you being all but wrapped around him where he’s knelt down. You feel his hands near your injured arm and instinctively cower. 

“Came from somewhere in that back parking lot, it looks like.” Cooper grits in his usual gruff tone, “Must’a got ‘em goin’ when they heard us. Waited ‘til you were alone.”

You sniffle pathetically into his coat, and it morphs into a strangled cry as he wraps the tie back around your arm. His other hand holds a broken piece of wood that he uses to knot into the fabric and twist. 

“Ah! Fucking hell, Coop!” Your protest is little more than a whine as your arm starts to go numb. 

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs, tipping his head back so he’s able to look in your eyes. “Don’t want ya to bleed out here.” 

You hold his gaze for a moment. “Why’d you come back?”

He helps you stand, giving you a moment to lean back against the counter and acclimate to the dizziness. Your eyes hold steady on him, watching lashless eyelids blink above gaunt cheeks.

“Vials.” He hooks an arm around your shoulders and the other behind your knees and lifts you up, “I wanted to have enough in case I got caught up.”

The slow cadence of Cooper’s walk almost lulls you into closing your eyes and he trudges silently to the shop’s entrance. You see gore splattered on the walls and floor, headless ghouls lying motionless at his feet. The top handle of your backpack is sticking out of the mess, and Cooper snatches it up. 

He walks for some distance, away from the pile of dispatched ghouls. He doesn’t stop until you come up on a store a ways away, advertising furniture and televisions. It seemed relatively untouched considering an atomic war and a two-hundred year wait. The Ghoul moves near the door, and you hear him clanking about with the lock. It takes a few tries and muttered curses, but Cooper jimmies it enough so he can get a toe nudged in the door. You attempt to help by grabbing the door, but he moves your hand back to his shoulder and pushes in on his own.

Cooper sets you gently on a shockingly clean and padded couch. The Ghoul is quiet, but gets to work cleaning the long gash in your arm. He gives you his inhaler, but there’s a strange canister clicked into the mechanism rather than his vial. You take a huff, and gag at the strong taste. 

“H-Holy Shit.” You cough, and it almost distracts you from the pain of a stimpak being stabbed into your wound. “What is that?”

Cooper unties the tourniquet when he’s satisfied, and sets the stimpak off to the side. “Med-X. Inhalin' it works faster.”

You nod and huff on his inhaler again. The Med-X is potent as all hell, and it feels like it’s shooting straight to your brain. You’re more willing, desperate for more as the effects set in. Cooper settles himself on the cushions beside you, watching carefully and taking away the inhaler before you overdose yourself. 

“I’m sorry for bein’ stupid.” You murmur. “I shoulda ran anywhere but there.”

Cooper leans in, ungloved hand cupping the side of your neck and tilting back. “Never apologize for survivin’, sugar.”

The drugs swirling about in your brain make it hard to form normal sentences. “I wouldn’t have without you… I hurt my arm and lost my cool.”

He tries to talk, but you  shush him.

“I couldn’t quit thinkin’ about those ghouls… about you.” 

Cooper sighs and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in close and shushes the soft cries that creep up your throat, fueled by a drug-induced haze. 

“Y’know… There’s always somethin’ that’s gonna make us lose it.” Cooper drums his fingers on your forearms. “No matter how tough we might be.”

You feel his lips in your hair and lean into it. “Guess I gotta trust that, ‘cause you’re pretty tough.”

Unbeknownst to you, your words are already comically slurred. Cooper chuckles into the bird’s nest on your head. 

“Feelin’ that Med-X, honey?” 

You swear to god, it’s gotta be that drawl that’s honey, not the drugs.

“Jus-Just a little.” You slump further into his side, head dropping onto his chest. He uses the tip of his boot to drag a nearby footrest closer and prop his feet up. 

“Good. Time for a nap.” Cooper tilts his hat down over his eyes. 

You hum, unable to argue. A nap sounds rather splendid, especially with the amount of drugs circulating your body. You glance up just as the Ghouls huffs down the rest of the Med-X himself. 

“Coop!” You try to chastise him, but it comes out as more of a laugh. “That’s not safe. You don’t need that right now.”

The Ghoul grumbles something that sure sounds like ‘goody two-shoes’, but reigns in the hostility, 

“Sure I do.” His hand rubs up and down your arm before finding its way to your waist. “I’m an old fuckin’ man. Joint pain.”

“Joint pain, schmoint pain.” You mock, eyes falling shut and staying that way. “Fuckin’ old man.”

Cooper actually chuffs at your remark and ducks to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s unexpected and sweet to feel such affection from him, and combines with the euphoric feeling of opioids pulsing through your brain.

“Go to bed, darlin’. Before I knock you out myself.”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[queenxxxsupreme]

At the End of the World

(Cooper Howard x Reader)

A/N: I know absolutely squat about the Fallout universe but I like to think I’ve done my research good enough. This is my first kick at trying a Cooper Howard x reader so I am getting a feel for his character, please be kind :) Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: nothing outside of canon, little fluffy here and there

Summary: You run into a certain ghoul and the vault dweller he’s taken as hostage.

Side Note: I called the inhaler thing that Cooper uses to keep from going feral a breather cause that sounded better than inhaler in my head??

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her temple into the wall. She licked her lips in an effort to ease the pain she felt. Her lips were so dry they had cracked again and again.

“Better get some shut eye, Vaultie.”

She opened her eyes and looked across the room to the man holding her hostage. Calling him a man was a stretch. He hadn’t been a man for quite some time. Ghoulification had taken over his features long ago, gnarling his skin and turning him into something between man and monster.

Lucy said nothing to him and put her head back against the wall. Part of her wished she had never left the vault. How could people live on the surface? There were no rules, no regulations, not even morals. It was no way to live. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. She knew she needed to sleep, but she wasn’t sure how much she’d be able to get.

Lucy wasn’t able to concentrate on sleep for very long. After what seemed like just seconds, the Ghoul moved. He straightened his hat and pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip. His eyes remained on the window between himself and Lucy.

“What—?”

”Quiet.” He cut Lucy off.

The vault dweller closed her mouth and tried to listen to whatever the Ghoul heard.

“This has to be where they holed up for the night.” A hushed voice spoke.

”You sure it was a vault dweller, Dart?”

”Positive. You know how much we could get for one of those if we find the right buyer?”

The Ghoul stood to his feet. The wall they were behind was the only bit of building left from what had once been a house. There wasn’t even a roof or another wall, just the piece that Lucy and the Ghoul were hiding behind.

“Looky here, fellas.” A voice came from behind the Ghoul. The sound of a hammer clicking on a pistol made him roll his eyes. “Turn around slow, buddy.”

”You fellas are askin’ for trouble.” The Ghoul warned.

“Drop the gun. Don’t want to hurt you, just want the vaultie.”

The Ghoul let his pistol fall to the dirt floor as he turned to face the unwelcomed guests. The guests consisted of three men and a woman.

“Say, you think we could get anything for a ghoul too?” The woman whispered to the man closest to her.

“It’s far too late in the night for y’all to cause a ruckus.” The Ghoul spoke. “Why don’t you turn around and go back the way you came before one of yous gets hurt?”

One of the men chuckled and shook his head.

“Ain’t no way we’re leaving without her.” He gestured to Lucy with the end of his sawed off shotgun.

Without any warning, a gun was fired once, twice, then three times. The Ghoul watched as all three raiders fell to the ground, blood pouring out of head wounds. His eyes flickered around, seeking out where the shots had come from. He couldn’t see a damn thing in the pitch black night.

Then there was a whistle. It was low and steady, lasting a couple seconds before a second whistle followed.

Lucy’s eyes were wide with panic as she strained to see where the noise came from. She searched the darkness, eyes flighting back and forth. The Ghoul didn’t seem nearly as panicked. In fact, he almost looked confused.

The wind shifted and blew a breeze directly towards him, carrying a familiar scent with it.

“What-What is that?” Lucy croaked. Her throat was so dry that her voice was raspy.

The Ghoul picked up his gun that he had dropped earlier on the ground. He brushed the dirt from it as a grin appeared on his lips.

“Oh that? That ain’t nothin’ but a little ol’ mouse.”

”Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” A soft and sweet voice came from the darkness.

Lucy watched as you moved into her line of sight. You appeared to be human, dressed in black cargo style pants tucked into worn dark brown boots. You wore a dark gray sweatshirt that was tattered around the hem and a brown jacket overtop of the sweatshirt. A dark green scarf wrapped loosely around your neck.

“Haven’t seen you for a while.” The Ghoul spoke, his eyes focused on you.

”Could say the same for you.” Your gaze found Lucy. She offered you a quick and friendly smile, but the sight of your left eye caught the poor girl off guard. It was glowing in the darkness, letting off an electric blue light. “Making new friends, Coop?”

”Ah, you know me. Always looking for a new friend.” The Ghoul’s tone was friendly and light. Lucy had never heard him sound anything close to nice.

You smiled just a little, shaking your head gently as you took a few more steps towards the two.

“Miss? Uh, m-miss?” Lucy tried to move towards you but the sound of the Ghoul pulling the hammer on his pistol back stopped her.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, Vaultie. Sit your ass back down.” He gave a stiff nod to the ground where she had been sitting moments ago.

You kept your eyes on Lucy as she returned to her seat. Her eyes found yours again and you had to look away in order to avoid feeling bad for her. The Ghoul sat down and you took the spot right next to him, shrugging your backpack off of your shoulders and placing it between your legs.

“What happened with Dom Pedro?”

”Ain’t important.” He muttered with a shake of his head. You unzipped your backpack and pulled out a canteen.

“What’s your name, girl?”

”Lu-Lucy. My name is— My name is Lucy.” She stammered, pausing to lick her dry lips. “What’s your name?”

You leaned forward to pass her the canteen. She needed it far more than you did.

“Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!” Lucy hastily opened the canteen and began to drink from it rather hastily.

“Friends call me Icy.” You answered her question. “Seems to be what I go by anymore.”

A raspy cough from the Ghoul made you snap your head in his direction. He tried to stifle the cough but it was no use. You had already heard.

“Where’s your breather?”

”Don’t got— Don’t got any vials.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Aint’ no use to me.”

”Where are all your vials at?” You knew him too well. There was no way he’d let himself run out. You pulled your backpack closer to you and began to dig around inside hastily.

”Lost them in a tussle with the Vaultie.”

For a brief second, your eyes flickered up to Lucy. You decided then and there that if Cooper turned, you’d kill her yourself.

“You know, I could kick your ass for being so careless, old man.”

”Suppose you could.” He chuckled but it was cut short by another dry cough. “Wouldn’t- Wouldn’t do you any good, but it sure as hell would make for a good time.”

”Well given your current state, sweetheart, I think the odds would be in my favor.” You pulled out the sachet with vials and handed them to the ghoul. He took it from you, your fingers brushing momentarily but just enough to have your heart beating a little quicker.

“Thank ya, doll.” He murmured quietly. You offered him a smile, watching as he put the vial in his breather and took a hit.

“You two are…. Are you close?” Lucy asked. You turned your attention to her, tilting your head to the side just a bit. She tried to smile, to show that she was trying to be friendly.

“Lucy, was it?”

”Yes.” She nodded her head.

“Those kind of questions, Lucy, get you a bullet in your gut out here.”

The smile fell from her broken lips and her brows drew together in confusion.

“I-I wasn’t– I didn’t mean it– It was more just an observation.”

You turned your head to Cooper. He tucked the breather into his jacket and then his eyes found you.

“Heard you came into some trouble a few months back.”

“Just got into it with a group of raiders back outside of Targon.” You leaned back against the metal junk he was leaning against. “Just the same old bullshit. Wanted my eye.”

He stayed quiet. He wished he had found you sooner.

“You need to get some sleep.” You leaned over to push your shoulder against his.

Cooper tilted his head down, the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

“Ain’t sleepin’ tonight, doll.”

“When was the last time you slept? You look exhausted.” You reached over to put your hand on his. “You need to sleep, Cooper.”

He held your gaze for a few heartbeats, losing himself in your eyes. He had been worried about you since he crawled out of the grave Dom Pedro had kept him in. He was worried he’d never be able to find you, that perhaps you would be dead when he did get to you.

The ghoul pulled himself out of his own thoughts and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say, boss. Don’t let the Vaultie get too friendly.”

You smiled a little.

“Now you know that isn’t me, darling. I don’t let anyone get too friendly.”

“You let me get a little too friendly, if I remember correctly.”

“Shut your mouth, old man.” You smiled up at him. His grin you adored so much was covered up by the brim of his hat as he pulled it down.

You turned your attention to the girl that sat across from you.

“How long have you been upside?”

“Um, I-I don’t know for sure. A few weeks, I think.” She took another sip of water and then scooted a little closer to you so that she could hand the canteen back to you.

“Keep it.” You shook your head.

“Thank you.” She murmured quietly as she settled back into her spot. “Where, um, are you from?”

“Everywhere and nowhere all at once.” You let out a soft breath. “When you live for as long as I have, you don’t keep track of that sort of thing.”

“How…. How long have you been alive?”

“Long enough to know you don’t belong up here, Lucy.”

She held your gaze, almost too afraid to look away.

“I-I have to find my dad. He got taken by-by these raiders. They took him and I have to find him.”

You nodded gently. Lucy looked to the Ghoul, trying to figure out if he was asleep yet. After a couple moments of silence between you and Lucy, she could hear what sounded like gentle snoring.

“Icy, I need to find my dad. Please, you have to let me go.” She whispered.

“Quiet down, girl.” You stood to your feet, adjusting the holster that hung around your hips. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

“Where are you going?”

“Keep watch.”

***

Hours later, the blistering sun was just beginning its task of boiling the earth as it came up from the horizon.

You had been lost in thought, eyes gazing ahead at the sunrise. Your left eye, the cybernetic eye, kept track of the time, the rate the sun was rising, the temperature, and how fast the wind was going.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

You looked over your shoulder to see Cooper walking towards you.

“You slept good.” You commented, taking a sip of water. He had snored last night louder than you ever heard before.

“Easy to do when you’re around.” Cooper came to stand beside you, one hand finding the small of your back. “You know, I was– uh– I was worried bout you.”

“Same could be said for me to you.” Your eyes flickered across the baron land before you. There was nothing to see for miles and miles except dirt and remnants of destroyed buildings casting long shadows in the early morning light. “I’d heard whispers thrown around about what Dom Pedro was doing to you. When I get my hands on him–,”

“I don’t want you gettin’ anywhere near him, Icy Mae.”

You clenched your teeth together. Fiery anger swirled in your gut. Cooper’s hand on your back moved just slightly, rubbing your back in an effort to comfort you.

“No need in grinding those little teeth, doll.”

“I’ve spent three years trying to find you.”

“I know.”

“I want to kill him for what he’s done to you.”

Cooper let out a sigh.

“Lemme see those pretty eyes, doll.”

You turned your head away from him even more. You didn’t want him to see the tears that festered in your right eye.

“Look at me, Icy.”

You took in a breath through your nose before begrudgingly turning to face the ghoul. His fingertips found your jaw, tracing the soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. Blue eyes followed his fingertips as he brushed away the stray tear that slipped down your cheek.

“I was afraid you’d be gone by the time I got to you. So many people I talked to said that you had died.”

“You know ain’t nothin’ gonna keep me from you, doll. Not even death.” He was trying to use his voice to make you feel better. Sometimes you felt that all he had to do was say your name in that raspy drawl of his and everything would be cured.

“Stop trying to charm me, old man.”

“Oh, I ain’t tryin’ to do anything, darling.”

You turned your head away from him, trying to focus on anything else. But he took your chin in his hand, gently turning your head back to him. you had no choice but to look up into his eyes.

“Missed you, woman.” He spoke in a hushed whisper. You couldn’t stay angry with him looking at you. It was rare to see those stern eyes so bright. A smile snuck its way onto your lips. You turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand.

“Distracting me, old man, won’t make me change my mind.”

“He ain’t worth your trouble, doll.” His hand left your face and even though it was hot outside, you found yourself missing the warmth of his touch. He placed his hand on your side, drawing your body a little closer to his.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw something move. You turned your head, disappointed to see Lucy moving towards you and Cooper.

The ghoul sighed as he removed his hand from your side and adjusted his hat, pulling it down just enough so the brim covered his eyes. You turned to face the vault dweller.

“Good morning, Lucy.”

”Good morning.” She smiled lightly. She looked from you to Cooper, unsure of which of you to look at.

“We should leave.” Your words weren’t really meant for her, but instead for the large figure that stood so close behind you.

“Yeah, yeah.” Cooper grumbled. ”Let’s get this show on the road.”

***

A couple hours later, you all walked in a poor excuse of a line. Lucy led the way with you followed just shortly behind her and the Ghoul behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Cooper kept his right hand on the handle of the gun holster on his hip. He gave you a light nod of his head, to which you smiled.

Lucy slowed down just a little to be able to walk alongside you.

“I just—,”

”Keep moving, Vaultie.” Cooper spoke up from behind you.

“Give her a second, darling.” You looked over your shoulder to flash him a toothy smile.

“Thank you.”

You looked at Lucy out of the corner of your right eye.

“For what?”

”For being so nice to me. Giving me water and-and talking to me.”

You said nothing to her.

”Can I ask you a question?”

”Depends on the question.”

”Is Icy your real name? The name you were born with?”

You almost laughed at her.

“Hardly. Icy is just a nickname I got through the years. Comes from my eye.” You tapped your left temple. You cybernetic eye was a bright blue almost icy color.

“What’s your real name?”

”Why does it matter what my real name is?” You glanced over to her.

”It-It doesn’t. I was just curious.”

”Curiosity will get you killed up here, girly. People don’t think it’s too kind and friendly to be asking all sorts of questions.”

“I-I’m– Okay.” Lucy pressed her lips into a tight line. It was so hard just to make conversation with people from the surface.

You slowed down just a bit so that Lucy would keep walking ahead of you.

“Told you not to be friendly with her.” Cooper bumped your shoulder with his. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not being friendly. Just trying to make conversation ‘cause I know you aren’t gonna be. What are you doing with her anyways?”

“Originally, I was gonna sell her for more vials. But now that you’re here, plans have changed a bit.” Cooper paused. “She’s a MacLean.”

You turned your head to Cooper, brows furrowing together. Without meaning to, you stopped walking.

“A what?”

“You heard me.”

“How?”

“She’s the daughter of Hank MacLean.”

Your fingers curled into fists by your sides. The very mention of Hank MacLean made your blood boil. The mention of anyone from Vault-Tec was enough to get you angry and ready to start fighting.

“What are we going to do with her?” You found yourself glaring at Lucy as she continued to walk, unaware that the both of you had stopped.

Cooper glanced over to you, adjusting the shotgun he held over his shoulder.

“Use her to get to her daddy.”

“They’ve ruined so many lives, Cooper. Vault-Tec has.”

“Oh, I know, darling.” He started walking again.

The anger in your stomach started to form into something else, into grief. There she was, Hank MacLean’s daughter, walking just ahead of you. Vault-Tec had ended so many lives, broken up so many families. Why did he get to have a family? Why did he get to see his daughter grow up?

Cooper stopped when he noticed you weren’t following him. He glanced back at you, taking note of your left hand that gripped the gun on your hip.

“Come on, Icy Mae.” He called for you. “Ain’t no use gettin’ worked up.”

Lucy stopped upon hearing the Ghoul say your name. She turned back to look at you. Your eyes met hers and you saw her furrow her brows together in confusion. Why did you look so upset, so angry?

“Don’t tell me how to be, Cooper.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you how to be, woman. Just telling you gettin’ mad ain’t gonna do nobody any good.”

“Is something wrong?” Lucy asked.

Your eyes left the girl to find Cooper.

“It isn’t fair, Coop.” You whispered, but he heard you just fine. He said nothing as he held your gaze. “Just isn’t fair.” You took your hand off of the gun and started walking again.

***

The day seemed to drag on for an eternity. No one had spoken very much. Everyone was tired and doing their best to make their energy last.

As the sun went away, camp was made on the outskirts of what used to be a town. The three of you took refuge inside of what appeared to be some kind of overturned bus. A battery powered lamp was on and sat in the middle of the bus, providing the otherwise pitch black night with a tiny source of light.

Lucy sat down against the roof of the bus, moving her hands around in an attempt to get comfortable with the rope around her wrist. You moved towards her, pulling a knife from its holster on your lower back.

”What are you doin’, woman?”

”Yeah, what are you doing?” Lucy shifted in her spot, eyes sticking to the knife you held. She tried to move away, pushing herself backwards. “Hey! Hey—!”

”Quiet down.” You muttered, kneeling down to cut away the rope.

“Oh.” Lucy watched the rope fall away then she rubbed her wrists. “Th-Thank you.”

“Icy, what the hell?”

”May as well let her get comfortable for the night.” You tucked the knife back into the sheath on your back. ”And she can’t go no where. We’re surrounded by nothing. She‘ll die from the elements before she gets far.”

Cooper sighed, putting his hands on his hips. You shrugged off your backpack and placed it down next to his bag. You sat down, adjusting your backpack before leaning against it.

“I’m gonna go have a look around.” He told you. “See if we’re alone out here.”

”Be careful.”

The ghoul gave you a nod, then turned towards Lucy.

“You try anything funny, Vaultie, and I won’t hesitate to skin you alive.”

“I-I won’t. I promise.”

You watched as Cooper slipped out of the overturned bus and disappeared into the night.

Once he was completely gone, you leaned forward to start taking off some of your layers. With the sun down, you didn’t have to worry about its harsh rays.

Lucy watched as you took off the jacket and placed it aside, then pulled the sweatshirt off of your head and added it to the jacket. You were left in a thin tank top that appeared to be a dark shade of brown. The gloves you wore came up to your elbows. You tugged each one off, setting them aside. With all the layers off, Lucy could now see the scars that covered your arms. They were darker than the rest of your skin and seemed to go in a gnarled and twisted pattern from the backs of your hands up to your shoulders.

You looked up, feeling eyes on you. The girl was watching you, her gaze curious but horrified all at once.

“I-I’m sorry.” She stuttered out. “What, um, what happened to you?”

”Got caught in a fire a few years back.” You rubbed your left arm, then started to rub the right one.

”Is that what happened to your eye?”

You stopped moving, her question catching you off guard.

You reached behind you into one of the side pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Then you settled back against the backpack, bringing your eyes up to meet hers.

Your cybernetic eye read her vitals and told you that she was nervous. A slightly elevated heart rate and increased breathing.

”No.” You put the cigarette between your lips then pulled a lighter from a pocket on your pants. “My eye was taken from me at the start of the war.”

”Oh.” She was quiet for a few heartbeats, looking away from you. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

”Vault-Tec.”

Your answer seemed to surprise her. She drew her eyebrows together.

”Vault-Tec?”

“It’s a long story, girly.” Your face lit up a little as you lit the cigarette.

”Well…. We’ve got time.”

”That we do.” You sunk down a little more to get comfortable.

Lucy could tell you didn’t really want to talk about your eye or Vault-Tec or your scars anymore. She looked down at her hands, rubbing her wrists just a little more before she let out a soft breath.

“How do you know him? That guy?”

”Known him for a while.” You turned your attention to the black sky. ”Ran into each other ages ago. We’d go our separate ways no and again but somehow…. Somehow we always run into each other.”

If the man in question hadn’t been so mean and callous, perhaps Lucy would have smiled.

“But how can you…. How can you be with someone like that? Someone who-who is okay with so much murder and so much cruelty?”

You stayed silent for a few minutes, debating on what to say next. Lucy thought perhaps you were ignoring her, but then you slowly sat up. You crossed your legs and leaned forward with your elbows on your knees.

“I used to have a daughter.” Your voice was hushed, eyes cast down to the flashlight providing a little bit of light. You took a deep inhale of the cigarette. In the same moment that you breathed out a cloud of smoke, you continued to talk. “Used to have a husband too. He was a good man. He’d move heaven and earth for me and my girl.”

You paused to see if Lucy would say anything. When she remained silent, you carried on.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Miss MacLean. You’ve only ever known comfort your whole life. You don’t know what people have had to endure up here…. what good people have had to do…. in order to survive.”

Lucy looked away, unable to hold your gaze any longer.

“There are no rules up here, no guidelines, no sense of ethics. If you want to survive, you have to do things you wouldn’t normally do. Good men do bad things to make sure they survive.”

Lucy directed her eyes downward. You flicked the cigarette ashes down onto the ground beside you.

“I’m-I’m sorry about your family.”

Your gaze was drawn to the girl once more.

“About everything you’ve been through.”

A whistle made both of you turn your heads. Lucy almost started to panic, but you shook your head gently.

”It’s just Cooper.” You took another puff from the cigarette. A few moments of silence passed before the Ghoul was making his way back into the overturned bus. “Find anything?” You sat up and offered him the cigarette.

“Nah, there’s nothin’ here but us and dirt.” He sat down next to you, settling with sitting up while you stayed hunkered down with your head on the backpack.

Lucy moved around a bit to get herself comfortable, choosing to lay on her side with her arm under her head as she faced the light.

”It’s your turn to get some sleep, woman.”

You turned your head to look up at Cooper.

“Don’t know if I’m gonna be able to sleep much, darling.” You took the cigarette back from him and puffed on it a little bit.

“You should try.”

You hummed but said nothing more.

After a few minutes, Lucy fell asleep, giving you and the ghoul next to you the smallest bits of privacy.

Neither of you said anything for a long time. You passed the cigarette back and forth until it was finished up by Cooper.

You scooted closer to him, trying to get as deep into his side as you could. He lifted his arm until you were comfortable, then he put his arm down around you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

”I haven’t been able to stop thinking about killing her all day, Cooper.” You murmured.

“Oh, yeah?”

”I want to take her head to her father.”

He looked down at you, unsure if what he had heard was what you said.

”He shouldn’t get to have a family. No one at Vault-Tec should.”

”You’re gonna get yourself all worked up, doll. Best not go down that rabbit hole tonight.”

You took a deep breath, reaching your hand up to hold on to his fingers.

”I don’t want to feel that way, Coop. I don’t want to hurt her.”

”Hush now.” Cooper leaned down to kiss your head. “Get some sleep, Icy Mae.”