#let's see how many followers will leave over this

[itneverendshere]

invisible string - r.c series (three) (+18)

pairing: pogue!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader warnings: angst; smut; fluff. part one; part two

Rafe rarely ever fought with you. 

Sure, he’d thrown his weight around with just about everyone else, but with you?

He’d dropped the whole tough-guy bullshit months ago. Hell, he’d even cried in front of you, ugly sobbing and all. He didn’t let himself be that vulnerable with anyone else, but today... today he felt like his skin was too tight and he was two seconds away from losing it.

He didn’t understand why you were pushing so hard. You kept going, saying the same things over and over, and he was trying so damn hard to stay calm, but every word you said just felt like gasoline on a fire.

He wasn’t even mad at you, not really.

He was mad at everything else—at himself, at how nothing ever seemed to go right, at how he always felt one wrong move away from everything falling apart. And now you wanted to talk about it again, like you didn’t see how close he was to just snapping.

It felt like you didn’t get it. No matter how many times you two talked about it, you still thought there was some perfect world where you could just be together out in the open, like it was no big deal.

But it was a big deal. A huge fucking deal.

He leaned against the wall of the shed, arms crossed, just watching you. You looked so damn hopeful like he was really about to show up to your graduation party and stand next to you like some lost puppy. You had this big party planned at your place. Parents, family, all your Kook friends. The whole scene. And you wanted him there. Like your parents weren’t gonna lose their minds if they saw him anywhere near you.

He could practically see your dad’s face already, that look of disappointment or disgust or whatever the hell he’d call it.

Rafe wasn’t dumb. He knew his place around here.

And sure, you knew the basics too: you were heading off to college soon, your life was on this perfect, shiny path, and his...well, his was a whole mess in comparison. But it was like you couldn’t see the bigger picture. Or maybe you just didn’t want to.

You acted like everything between you two would stay the same, like you could just waltz into your new life with him still in it, like he could just follow you there. But Rafe knew better. You were leaving in four months, and that thought sat heavy in his chest every time he was around you now.

And here you were talking about the party again, like his presence there wouldn’t blow up everything.

He wanted to be there for you, more than anything, but not like that. Not surrounded by your perfect little world while he felt like an outsider, waiting for someone to call him out. It was like you didn’t even see the bomb that was about to go off if he stepped foot into your life like that.

“Are you listening to me?”

He ran a hand down his face, trying to hold onto whatever thread of control he had left. “I am listenin',” he muttered, though his voice came out harder than he meant.

“No, you’re not,” you said, a little firmer this time. "You’re shutting down again, like you always do when I bring this up."

He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want this to turn into some big blow-up. But damn, why couldn’t you just drop it for once? Why did you always have to dig, always push when he was hanging by a thread?

“Are coming tonight or not?” you asked for the millionth time, like it was no big deal. Just a party. “It’s nothing crazy.”

He let out a short laugh, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. Yeah, right. “Like your dad’s not gonna lose his shit the second he sees me?”

“Rafe—” you started, but he already knew where this was going. Same conversation, different day.

You were standin’ there, looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes and it killed him. You were always calm, always trying to make sense of shit when sometimes there just wasn’t any sense to be made.

And right now, he didn’t have the patience for it.

He cut you off. “You really think it’s that easy? You think I can just show up, grab a drink, and blend in with your crowd like we’re in some damn movie? Tell everyone how ‘m your homeless boyfriend?”

You looked frustrated like you couldn’t wrap your head around why this was such a big deal. He wished you could see it from his side, but how could you? You weren’t a pogue.

You didn’t know what it was like being the guy no one wanted around anymore. Hell, he barely had anywhere to crash before you helped him out. And now, what? He was supposed to show up to your graduation party and pretend like he belonged?

He was getting worked up now. He knew it. But damn, how was he supposed to just walk into that house, standing next to you while everyone whispered about how he would be dragging you down?

“It’s my party,” you said, taking a step closer. “I don’t care what they think. I want you there.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away. You didn’t get it. This wasn’t just about your daddy or your friends or even you. It’s about the fact that no matter how hard he tried, he was always gonna be that guy they look at sideways like he wasn’t worth a dam.

“Yeah? And what happens when they start askin’ questions?” He asked, voice low, trying to keep the edge out of it. “When they find out we’ve been sneakin’ around for months? You think they’ll just be cool with that? You wanna throw all that away, for me?”

Your face tightened up, hurt showing in your eyes, and damn if that didn’t make his chest twist up inside. He hated seeing you like that.

“I’m just tired of pretending like I’m ashamed of you.”

That one hit hard, harder than he expected.

He dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling like he was about to lose it. “M’ not doing this to hurt you,” he muttered, trying to pull himself back together. “I’m doing it ‘cause I care about you.”

He was protecting this.

You shook your head like you didn’t believe him. “No, you’re doing this ‘cause you think you’re protecting me from something that doesn’t even matter. None of this—my parents, the Kook bullshit—none of it matters to me.”

You didn’t curse often, but when you did, he knew you were upset. Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, looking down at his boots, the ones you’d bought him a month ago, kicking at some dirt on the ground. He hated this. Hated how you made it seem so simple. Like you could just snap your fingers, and everything would fall into place.

"Doesn't matter to you," he muttered, shaking his head. "But it matters to them. It matters to the people you gotta see every day. Your parents, your friends... hell, half the damn island. You think they won’t care? That they won’t look at you different if they see you with me?"

You were right there in front of him now, reaching out to touch his arm, but he tensed up, not ready for the comfort. Not when his head was a mess.

“I don’t care what they think. Why do you?"

That question. That damn question. It was always the same one, and he never had a good answer for it. He didn’t care what they thought, not about him.

But you? You deserved better. And even if you didn’t see it that way, he did.

“I care ‘cause you’re... you’re better than all that, alright?" His voice was gruff, trying to keep from saying too much, but it was getting harder. "You got your whole future lined up, you’re set. College, whatever the hell you wanna do. And then there's me, dragging you down with all my bullshit. You deserve—"

“I deserve to make my own choices,” you cut in, stepping even closer, so close now that he could feel the warmth of your skin, hear the frustration under your breath. “And I choose you. I don’t care about any of that other stuff. I want you there tonight. With me.”

The way you said it, it almost made him want to believe it. Almost.

Rafe clenched his jaw, eyes drifting up to meet yours. You really believed it, didn’t you? That this could work. That you two could just show up, be together, and it wouldn’t matter what anyone thought. Part of him wanted to grab onto that same hope, hold it tight, and say “fuck it” to everything else.

But the other part—the part that had seen how the world worked, how Kooks looked down on Pogues like him—knew better.

"Just 'cause you want it, doesn’t makes it real.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Like we can just walk in there and no one’s gonna give a shit that you’re standing next to me.”

You crossed your arms now, jaw set in that stubborn way that usually meant you weren’t backing down. “I don’t care anymore, Rafe. I’m tired of living by their rules. This is my life."

He felt a flare of anger burn in his chest. Not at you, but at the situation. At the fact that he couldn’t just be the guy you wanted him to be, the guy who could walk into that party and not feel like he was sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Yeah?” he snapped back, voice rough. “And what about next time, huh? What about the next party or when your dad finds out and says you’re not allowed to see me anymore. What then?”

You stared at him, eyes hard, like you were daring him to say more, but there was something else in your expression, something that made his throat tighten. "You’re just looking for an excuse," you said quietly. "You’re scared."

Maybe you were right. Maybe he was scared.

Scared that if he let himself believe this could work, he’d end up losing you in the end anyway. Scared that the moment you really saw how different your lives were, you’d leave, and he’d be the one standing there, broken.

“Can’t you just drop it?”

“You’re being mean.”

He wasn’t trying to hurt you—not really. But he didn’t know how else to get through your head, how to make you see what he saw.

“So what if I am. Maybe I need to be. You’re not listening to me.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, and that just pissed him off more. You should be mad. You should hate him for not just going along with this, for making it all so damn hard. But there you were, looking at him like you still believed in him. Like he was worth it. And fuck, that was the hardest part.

Your eyes were glassy, and he could see it—the hurt. The way you blinked fast, your lips pressed tight, like you were holding it all in, it killed him.

“You’re pushing me away,” you said, voice shaky as hell. “And I don’t get it. You’re actin’ like I’d be better off without you.”

He clenched his fists, feeling that familiar burn of frustration flare up. He didn’t want to yell at you.

Hell, he never wanted to make you cry, but you didn’t get it. Part of him wanted to shake you, make you see things the way he saw them. The other part? The part that hurt every time you talked about leaving, about how you had this whole future ahead of you... that part just wanted to pull you in and hold on tight.

He laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “Yeah? Well, someone needs to. 'Cause you’re blind if you think this ends with us living happily ever after.”

You flinched, like his words had hit you straight in the chest. And then, the tears came, and he couldn’t stop them this time. You wiped at your face, trying to hold it together, but he’d already done the damage.

He was falling apart right in front of you, and he hated that you had to see it. Hated that you were the only person who ever saw him like this.

He hated himself for saying it, but he couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t stop the truth from comin’ out, no matter how much it hurt. “You’re leavin’ in four months, and I’m still here. Still... me. And I’m not draggin’ you down with all my crap. You deserve better than that.”

You reached out, grabbing his arm, and the way you touched him made somethin’ inside him crack. “I don’t want better, Rafe. I want you.”

“Yeah?” He barked out a laugh, bitter and hollow. “And what happens when you’re gone? When you’re off at college, livin’ your life, and I’m still here, stuck in this place? You think this... whatever this is, is gonna last?”

Your voice broke a little when you spoke again. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m doin’ it ‘cause I care about you,” he said, voice dropping low, rough around the edges. “More than anything. But you... you got a future. You got everythin’ ahead of you. And me? I ain’t got nothin’ but a one-way ticket to nowhere.”

You were cryin’ now, and that damn near killed him. You never cried, not like this. “That’s not true. Why can’t you see that? I’m not leaving you behind.”

Rafe finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and he could see it—could see how much you meant it.

And damn, he wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were right. But he’d been around long enough to know how this world worked, and it never worked out for guys like him.

“I can’t be the one to ruin your life,” he said, stepping back, pulling away from your touch even though it felt like it was tearing him apart to do it. “I won’t.”

“Rafe,” you whispered, voice broken and pleading, but he shook his head.

“Just... let it go,” he muttered, turning his back to you. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Couldn’t handle seeing you hurt, knowing it was his fault. Knowing he was the reason your heart was breaking.

"Fine," you choked out, voice only just holding steady. "If you don’t want me there, then I’ll stop trying.”

You turned on your heel, storming off, but not before he saw your shoulders shake. 

Fuck.

That shit crushed him, but still, he didn’t move.

Just stood there, fists clenched, staring at the ground while you walked away from him. He knew he’d ruin the best thing that ever happened to him, he just didn’t expect it to happen this soon. He wanted to go after you, and say something to make it right, but what was the point? 

He always fucked it up somehow.

He leaned his head back against the shed, staring up at the sky, feeling like an absolute waste of space.

You had everything going for you—family, friends, a future—and what the hell did he have? Nothing but bad luck and a reputation that dragged behind him like a chain. He didn’t even know why you bothered with him sometimes. You were too good, too kind.

And he? He was the definition of a screw-up. Always saying the wrong thing, always ruining the good moments before they even had a chance to get started.

He slid down the wall until he was sitting in the dirt, head in his hands, wishing he could just be different. Wishing he didn’t care so much about what your dad thought or how your friends would whisper when you weren’t around. He wished he could just be the guy you saw, the guy you believed in.

Hours later, the party at your place was in full swing, and he knew you were there, trying to have a good time without him. He hadn’t shown up, of course. Just like he said he wouldn’t. Rafe stayed back, back in that stupid abandoned house, trying to tell himself this was for the best. 

He could hear the distant sound of music coming from your house, the laughter of your Kook friends echoing through the night air. It was the kind of party he never really belonged at—one where everyone showed up in their clean-cut clothes, fresh haircuts, and fancy cars. The kind of life he never had a shot at, not really. And here he was, stuck in the dirt, hands covered in grime, still trying to figure out why the hell you kept fighting for him.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew this was what was supposed to happen. You deserved to be there, with your people, not hanging around with someone like him. You’d be fine without him weighing you down. Hell, you’d probably be better off in the long run. He’d hurt you. He knew it. Saw it clear as day when you walked off, tears in your eyes, but he didn’t go after you. He didn’t know how.

But then his phone buzzed—the phone you had gotten him—and he looked down to see your name flashing on the screen. He stared at it for a second, his gut twisting, then picked up.

“Yeah?”

All he could hear on the other end was you crying. That soft, broken cry made his chest feel like it was caving in.

“Hey, hey,” he said quickly, standing up straighter. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer right away, just kept crying, and that was worse than anything you could’ve said. His heart was pummeling to the ground, and he was already on his feet, ready to head over before you even asked.

“Sweetheart,” he tried again, trying to keep himself from sounding as panicked as he felt. “What happened? Talk to me.”

You sniffled hard, trying to talk through the sobs. “Rafe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, your voice all shaky and broken.

He couldn’t stand to hear you like that, not when he knew it was his fault. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now, feeling like a total jackass.

“Stop crying, darlin’,” he muttered, voice softer now. “I hate when you cry.”

“I’m just so upset,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “I didn’t want us to fight like that. I just miss you.”

Rafe clenched his jaw, feeling like shit. He could hear the party still going in the background, but all you wanted was him. He knew that, but somehow he’d still managed to mess everything up.

“Where are you?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“My room,” you muttered, “I couldn’t stay down there. I feel so stupid.”

His heart twisted, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was throwing on his jacket, heading out.

“I’m coming’ over,” he said, his voice firm.

“What?” you sounded surprised. “Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I’m coming’,” he interrupted you, his voice low but serious. “Stay there. I’ll be there in a few.”

Twenty minutes later, he was sneaking around the side of your house, ducking behind bushes to avoid being seen. The party was still going, people everywhere, but all he cared about was getting to your window. He knew how to sneak into your room like the back of his hand by now. Too many months of practice.

He climbed through, landing quiet as a mouse, and saw you sitting on the edge of your bed, looking down at your hands. Your eyes were red from crying, and he felt that familiar guilt twisting in his gut.

When you looked up and saw him, you stood fast, like you couldn’t believe he was actually there.

Before he could say anything, you were in his arms, holding onto him tight, like you were scared he might disappear. Rafe held you, his chin resting on top of your head as you pressed into him, your fingers clutching at the back of his jacket like you didn’t want to let go. He knew he'd screwed up. He always did. But when you were there, clutching him like he was the only thing that mattered, it made him question everything he'd told himself.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your face buried in his chest, your body shakin’ from the sobs.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, like he was trying to make up for every shitty thing he’d said. “You don’t gotta apologize, alrigh’?” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “This one’s on me.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, tears still in your eyes, and damn if it didn’t make him want to punch himself.

“I don’t care about the party or the people,” you practically whimpered, “I just want you, Rafe.”

He stared down at you, feeling’ that knot in his throat. He didn’t deserve you. He never had. But here you were, saying you wanted him anyway.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” He exhaled, “I just... I don’t know how to do this right. I’m scared I’m just gonna hurt you.”

You shook your head, your hands resting on his chest. “You don’t have to protect me. I just want you to let me in.”

He swallowed hard. You were all he wanted, but damn if it didn’t scare the hell out of him sometimes.

Still, he wasn’t about to lose you. Not like this.

The warmth of you against him, the way you fit so perfectly into his chest—it made him feel like he might just be okay. Like maybe, for once, things didn’t have to be so damn complicated.

But that didn’t mean the doubts were gone. He pulled back just a little, enough to see your face, brushing a tear away from your cheek with his thumb.

 “You know I’m not good at this, right?” His voice was low, rough, like he was almost ashamed to say it. “I don’t wanna screw things up, but I don’t always know how to… be better.”

You looked up at him, your eyes still watery but soft, full of that same stubborn affection you always had for him. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to let me in when it gets hard.”

He let out a slow breath, trying to wrap his head around how you could want him—still want him—after all the times he’d messed up. “I’m tryin’, alright?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I don’t wanna push you away, but sometimes it feels like that’s the only thing I know how to do.”

You gave him this sad little smile, like you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t care if you push sometimes,” you conceded, “Just—don’t leave. Don’t make me feel like I’m in this alone.”

That hit him harder than anything.

He realized then, as much as he was scared of dragging you down, you were scared of him disappearing. No matter how fucked up things got, no matter how much he doubted himself or the future, he wasn’t about to let you slip away.

You bit your lip, like you were debating whether or not to say something, and for a second, Rafe felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I love you, Rafe.”

Those three words hit him harder than anything ever had. Harder than all the fights, the doubts, the shit he carried around like it was glued to his skin. His heart just about stopped in his chest, and he just stared at you like you’d knocked the wind out of him.

“What—what did you just say?” His voice came out hoarse like he didn’t trust what he heard.

“I love you,” you said again, a little more sure this time. You smiled, but your eyes were still searching his, like you were waiting for him to say something back.

Like maybe he wouldn’t.

His head started spinning, like the room had just tilted sideways.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his throat, and suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was about to pass out or just drop to his knees. How the hell were you standing there, looking at him, and saying that?

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He felt his knees wobble for a second, like his legs were going to give out. Jesus Christ, get it together, he thought, trying to pull in a breath, but it felt like the air got stuck halfway down his throat.

“You love me?” His voice cracked, and he hated how insecure he sounded, how unsure. But it was like his brain couldn’t process those words coming from you.

You nodded, stepping closer, your hand slipping back to his chest, right over his heart. “Yeah. I love you.”

Rafe’s heart was pounding so hard now, he thought it might actually explode. He blinked, then swallowed hard, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

It wasn’t like he didn’t believe you—it was just, how the hell did he deserve that? Deserve you?

“Shit…” He whispered, almost to himself, and suddenly his legs felt weak again. “I... I—fuck, I don’t know what to say.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

But he did.

He needed to say something, anything, to let you know what that meant to him. His throat felt tight, like he might choke if he didn’t get it out.

 “I—I love you too.” It came out fast, like he was scared if he didn’t say it quick enough, you might take it back. "I love you, too. So fucking much, I don't even know what to do with it half the time.”

He looked down at you, and for once, he didn’t care if he was being soft or vulnerable or any of that shit that scared him before.

He just wanted you to know how much he needed you, how much you meant to him.

And as soon as the words were out, you smiled, this big, radiant smile that lit up your whole face, and Rafe felt like he might actually faint this time.

His heart was gonna burst wide open. He pulled back a little, still holding onto you, his forehead resting against yours. 

“You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he muttered, “I’ve never—no one’s ever...”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek, and it was so gentle, so full of love, that it almost knocked him off his feet all over again.

“You deserve it,” you reminded him again, “You deserve to be loved.”

There you were, always telling him of what he was deserving of. 

“I love you,” he whispered again, just to make sure you knew. He buried his face in your neck, his arms enveloping you tighter than before.

You loved him. You loved him. And he loved you.

It felt like the confession had lightened up something inside you.

He’d thought about how it would go, the first time you two would be together like that. In his head, it was always this big moment, something special. 

He was rough around the edges, sure, but he wanted to do it right. He wanted it to be perfect for you. He'd even thought about planning something out—candles, a slow build, maybe a weekend when no one was around.

His breath was ragged as he felt you pull him closer, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. He’d thought about this moment a thousand times—hell, probably more—but never like this.

Not rushed, not with everyone downstairs, and definitely not with you looking at him like you couldn’t wait any longer. You kissed him like you couldn’t stop, fingers already slipping beneath the fabric, making it hard for him to think straight.

“Sweetheart...” his voice was low with that familiar southern drawl, like he was trying to hold it all together. “You sure ‘bout this? We got a house full of people downstairs.”

You kissed him harder, pulling his shirt over his head, and he nearly lost his mind right then and there. He wanted to slow down, make this moment perfect for you, but the way you were all over him? It made him forget every plan he’d ever had. He let out a shaky breath, his hands settling on your waist, trying to ground himself. 

Jesus, this wasn’t how he’d imagined it.

He wanted to slow down, wanted to make this moment last, but you were already working your hands up his chest, and it was driving him insane.

“I don’t care,” you muttered against his lips, your breath hot and all desperate.

Damn, if you weren’t the most stubborn, determined girl he’d ever met. But he loved that about you. Loved how you always knew exactly what you wanted. And right now? It was clear you wanted him. His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing the curves he’d been dreaming about for months.

Rafe let out a groan, trying his best to keep it together, but you were making it damn near impossible. “I was... I was tryin’ to be romantic for once,” he mumbled as he looked into your eyes, practically begging himself to slow down, to make this right. “Was thinkin’ candles, music... not with your whole damn family downstairs, baby.”

You laughed, breathless, and pulled him even closer, your body against his. “You don’t want me?” There was a hint of challenge in your voice like you didn’t believe him.

His blue eyes went wide. “What? ‘Course I want you,” he said, almost shocked you’d even think that. “‘I’ve always wanted you. You gotta know that.”

You looked up at him and he nearly came on the stop, “Then stop holding back.”

Every last bit of control he had glided right out of his hands. You were there, right in front of him, pulling him into you, like you didn’t care about anything else. All his plans, all his ideas of some perfect first time? Out the damn window.

 “You... you look so damn beautiful. This dress— I can’t get over how good you look in it.”

You giggled, and for a moment, the heat between you two softened into something tender, something that made his chest ache.

He loved that sound. Loved the way it lit up your face, like you had no idea just how much you meant to him.

He kissed you again, slow at first like he was trying to be a gentleman, but the way you kissed him back, so eager, so damn hungry—it broke whatever restraint he had left. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, feeling the soft fabric of your dress against his skin, and it sent a jolt through him, making him lose track of everything but you. The room felt too small, and all he could think about was how long he’d been waiting for this—for you.

His hands trembled as he reached for the hem of your dress, hesitating for a second before pulling it up, revealing the soft skin of your waist. He was trying to stay calm, to keep his mind from racing, but it felt damn near impossible with the way you were looking at him.

You were everything.

He swallowed hard, “I... I wanna take my time with you,” he murmured, like he was scared he’d crack the spell between you if he spoke too loud. His fingers brushed over your skin, gentle, as he lifted your dress the rest of the way, eyes flicking up to yours, searching for any sign that you wanted him to stop.

You didn’t.

If anything, you moved even closer, your breathing coming out in quick, giddy breaths. There was something endearing about it—like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but you both wanted it so badly. You were learning together.

Your dress fell to the floor, and he just stared for a moment, blue eyes all wide, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Goddamn..”

His hands hovered over your skin, like he didn’t want to rush, but you were yanking him impossibly closer, urging him on. He began to move again, gliding slowly over your bare skin, every touch reverent, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t careful enough.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands still roaming over your body, savoring every inch of you. The soft sighs you made only pushed him further, made him forget everything except how much he wanted to make you feel good, how much he needed this to be good for you.

His was light-headed as he whispered your name, “God, I love you— I don’t think you even know how much.”

“I think I do,” you whispered back, lips brushing his neck. “Show me.”

He reached for the delicate straps of your bra and pulled them down your shoulders, like he was unwrapping the most precious thing in the world.

He paused for a second, looking into your eyes, making sure you were still with him, still wanting this as much as before.

You nodded softly, your lips parted, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. His fingers found the clasp, fumbling slightly, and he cursed under his breath with a rough chuckle, “Sorry, baby… it’s just—damn, I’m mess right now.”

You beamed at him, all the tension melting away, “You’re doing’ just fine,” you whispered, urging him to keep going.

With one final tug, the clasp gave way, and your bra slipped off, falling to the floor. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he took you in, his mouth going dry. He swallowed hard like he couldn’t believe this was real.

His hands moved steadily, fingertips grazing your bare skin as he lowered them to your waist, where the last piece of fabric still clung to your body. He hesitated for just a second, his eyes coming back to yours, silently asking for permission.

 “I want you.”

That was all it took.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down, savoring every inch of you as you were revealed to him. He let out a low groan, as he finally saw you—all of you.

He needed to remind himself this was real. That you were his. “Fuck,” His voice was filled with awe. "You’re perfect.”

Your fingers drifted lower, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and you felt noticed how his body tensed under your touch, his muscles rippling as he tried to keep himself calm.

“C’mon,” you purred, just teasing as you pulled at the button, “I think it’s your turn now.”

Rafe’s lips curved into that cocky grin he knew you loved, "You sure ‘bout that, sweetheart?" 

You nodded, small hands already working to unbutton his jeans. He almost let out a prayer, biting his lip as you slipped them down, his body shivering as your fingers brushed against his skin.

His jeans fell to the floor, and you took a step back, admiring him like he was worth all that staring. Rafe stood there in nothing but his boxers, chest heaving with all that uncontrollable love he felt for you.

His eyes were locked on yours, full of that same intense need, but there was something tender in them too, he still couldn’t quite believe you were here, undressing him like this. But you were real, standing there with him and undressing him like you wanted every single piece of him. 

With a soft smile, you reached up, fingers twitching at the waistband of his boxers, your eyes never leaving his. The way you looked at him as you slid them down slowly, revealing every inch of him? He was never letting that go.

Rafe just stood there for a moment, completely bare, his body a little rigid with anticipation, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as you took him in.

"You're perfect too," your eyes roamed over him, taking in the sharp lines of his body, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

When you stepped closer, hands touching his hips now, dragging him towards you, his fingers found your hair, tangling in it as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep, pouring everything he couldn’t say into that kiss.

"Jesus," he whispered against your lips, eyes closing as he tried to breath through his excitement, "You're drivin' me crazy.”

You just let out soft little laugh that made his stomach flip, your fingers mapping over his jaw, keeping him close. His whole body was buzzing with need, his skin burning wherever you touched him, but there was something else in the way you were looking at him—a kind of trust that he wasn’t sure he deserved but fuck if he wasn’t going to do everything to live up to it.

His hands skimmed back down to your hips, your bare skin against his, and for a second, he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe right. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the familiar scent of you, trying to calm his racing heart.

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he promised, "I want this to be good for you— I’ve always wanted this to be good for you."

You tilted his face down, your lips brushing against his “It already is, Rafe. Just...just be with me."

That was all he needed.

Rafe’s hands touched all over you like he was trying to memorize every part of you, like he couldn’t believe you were letting him have this.

He kissed you, slow but needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and the way you responded made his entire body shake. His hands ended up back in your waist, thumb brushing the skin, lifting you just a little and guiding you to the bed, where you both sank into the mattress together.

His weight settled over you, your bodies fitting together in this perfect way that made his head spin. He leaned down, kissing your neck, your collarbone, every inch of skin he could reach.

Your breath came in short gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he kissed his way down your body, and Rafe swore he could die.

“You’re everything,” he whispered against your skin, voice hoarse with emotion. "You don't even know... how long I've wanted this. How much I want you."

His fingers moved down, brushing the inside of your thigh. He hesitated for a moment, eyes searching yours, needing that confirmation one more time. You nodded, biting your lip.

His fingers slid between your thighs, slow at first, the warmth of your skin making him shudder. He exhaled sharply, opening you up to him, feeling how ready you were, and it nearly drove him insane. His fingers moved carefully, testing the waters, the softest groan escaping his lips as he found that sensitive spot.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered, like he couldn’t believe the way you felt under his touch.

Your breath caught, hips shifting toward him, a soft moan breaking loose as his fingers pressed against you. The sound of your voice, the way your body responded to him—it drove him wild. He wanted to make sure you felt good.

Two of his fingers slipped inside, careful, tentative at first. He watched your face, making sure you were okay, his other hand resting on your hip, steadying you as they curled slightly, finding a rhythm that made your body arch into him.

“Rafe…” you breathed out, your voice wobbly, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation overwhelmed you.

He worked a little faster now, getting even harder as he felt you tighten around him. “Like that, baby?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle another moan, your hands latching on his shoulders as your body quivered under his touch. He groaned softly, his lips finding your neck, licking and sucking at the soft skin there as his fingers continued their slow, deliberate movements. 

Your body curved toward him, every nerve ending tingling as his fingers moved deeper, curling just right. He swallowed hard, his lips brushing against your ear, "Is this okay?"

Your heart thumped against your rib cage, every movement of his fingers making you gasp softly. You managed to give him a small nod, barely able to find your voice. "Yeah, Rafe... it's perfect."

His breath came out a little less unrestrained, clearly relieved, and he continued, the pace slow, testing. The uncertainty in his touch was endearing, but you wanted more—you needed more.

“Baby,” you murmured softly, biting your lip as a rush of heat stretched through you, “Maybe… one more?”

He froze for a moment, his voice coming out in a ragged gasp as he looked at you. “Are you sure?”

Your heart swelled at his concern, and you gave him a reassuring smile. "I’m sure. Just take it slow."

Carefully, he pulled back just a little, his fingers slipping out before he added a third finger. His brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes flicking up to yours, watching your face for any sign of discomfort.

The sensation was different, intense, but not too overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, your body adjusting to the new pressure as he filled you more.

“Does it—does it feel good?” Rafe asked, his face inches from yours, vulnerable.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “It feels amazing.”

His lips parted, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He let out a soft laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “I was worried I’d mess it up.”

You shook your head, pulling him closer, your hand twisting in his hair. “You're doing great.”

He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing a little as he found a rhythm again. His fingers moved more confidently now, more certain, his jaw falling slack as he watched you react to him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Rafe muttered, eyes glued to your face. “You feel that? You’re taking me so well.”

You whined at how deep his voice sounded, your body buzzing as his fingers worked in deeper, the pressure mounting with every movement. Your mind filled with nothing but the feeling of him inside you.

“God, yes,” you breathed out, the pleasure building to a point where it felt like you might break apart.

Rafe's pace quickened, as he pressed his fingers harder, deeper, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over again. 

"Come on, baby," he practically begged you, voice hoarse. Your breath came out in short, shallow gasps as you felt yourself creeping toward the edge, every movement of his hand bringing you closer. His name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as the tension snapped, your body shuddering as the pleasure washed over you.

His eyes widened in awe, his fingers slowing as he watched you like he couldn’t believe what he’d just made happen. He groaned softly, feeling you pulse around him, "You did so good," he murmured, lips brushing against your temple. "So perfect."

You felt a shiver run down your entire being as his hands glided up your thighs, spreading them gently as he settled himself between them. He was shaking a little, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes—the nervousness that came with doing something for the first time, not wanting to mess it up.

But when he leaned down, kissing you slow and deep, all the apprehend melted away. He couldn’t help but take in every detail—the way your lips parted as you breathed him in. He felt like he was drowning, but in the best way possible.

“I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You looked up at him, your own breath uneven, eyes wide and the way you saw through him—it was like you were giving him the world. His hand was still shaking slightly as he reached down, lining himself up with you, taking his time, not rushing even though every fiber of his being screamed to.

"I wanna make this good for you," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. "I don’t wanna hurt you." 

There was a hesitation, a vulnerability that he only showed in moments like this. His focus was entirely on you, on making sure you felt nothing but pleasure. You gave him a small, reassuring nod, your hand finding his, fingers slipping through his, squeezing. "I trust you.”

He exhaled slowly, nodding to himself as he eased into you, inch by inch, watching your face the entire time, making sure you were still doing okay.

The sensation overwhelmed him, the warmth of your body, the way you welcomed him so completely. He groaned, low and deep, knowing he could do this for the rest of his life. You were so fucking warm.

"Fuckkk," he moaned, "You feel so fuckin' good, darlin'."

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours as he sank deeper, the feeling of being inside you nearly sending him over the edge. He wanted to take it slow, to savor every moment, but the way you clenched around him, the way you whispered his name like it was the only word you knew—it made it impossible.

Your eyes fluttered closed, lashes brushing against flushed cheeks, lips parting in a soft gasp that made his heart skip a beat. His hips moved on instinct, slow at first, testing, his breath coming out in shallow pants as he tried to hold back. "Tell me if it’s too much," he managed to say, his voice strained.

“It’s p-perfect.”

His hips snapped forward, the movement more sure, more confident as he lost himself in the moment. A low groan escaping his lips as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping your hips as he moved faster, harder, the need to be closer to you taking over.

You mewled pathetically at this point, nails digging into every bit of skin you could get your hands on, body arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot over and over again. It wasn’t fair that he was a natural.

The way you responded to him, the sounds you made—it had to be the best day of his life.

“Touch me.”

He cupped your tit, thumb brushing over the hardened peak with a gentle touch that contrasted the desperate way his hips moved against you.

His eyes never left your face, watching every flicker of emotion as his hands explored you. "Like this?" he murmured, his thumb circling again as his hips moved deeper. The way your body reacted—sucking him in like a goddamn vice—it nearly undid him.

“Mmhp—Fuck. J—Just like that.”

He leaned down, like a man possessed, lips brushing the soft skin of your tit, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth found the hardened peak, lips wrapping around it with a low groan, and his tongue flicked over it slowly, teasingly. You gasped, your hands entangling in his hair, holding him there as he sucked harder, his teeth grazing just enough to make you whimper.

He hummed in satisfaction, feeling the way your body responded to him. His tongue circled slowly, drawing out every sound you made, savoring each gasp, each moan as he lavished attention on your body. 

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his lips trailing over your heated flesh. “You taste so good.”

You couldn’t help the way your body responded, pressing up against him, your hips rolling to meet his. The dual sensation of his mouth on you and the deep, steady thrusts left you tingling all over, beneath him, completely dazed by the pleasure he was giving you.

“Rafe—" you huffed, the word barely more than a breath as your grip tightened in his hair, pulling him closer. His mouth latched on harder, sucking with a fervor that left you breathless.

He pulled back just slightly, lips wet and swollen as he looked up at you,“I could do this all night,” he whispered, “You like that, baby? You like how I’m making you feel?”

He didn’t know where these surges of confidence kept coming from, but he never felt so relieved. It felt like his body knew exactly what to do when it came to yours.

His hand skidded between your legs once more, fingers finding your swollen, sensitive clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that matched the rhythm of his hips and mouth. You could barely think straight, couldn’t form a coherent thought.

When his lips finally crashed back into yours, the taste of him overpowered every sense as his hands pulled your hips tighter. His kiss was messy, all spit and need, like he couldn’t get enough of you—like he needed to feel you, taste you, breathe you in all at once. His tongue slid past your parted lips, slow and teasing at first, then deeper, as if he was trying to consume you whole.

He groaned into the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before tugging on it softly, then harder as he swallowed the sound of your whines.

When he broke the kiss, it was only to press wet, fevered kisses down your jawline, to your neck, leaving a trail of spit and heat in his wake.

“I love you,” he muttered against your skin, his lips latching onto your collarbone, sucking on the sensitive spot just below your ear, biting gently, “So fuckin’ much.”

“I love you,” You breathed out between kisses, his hands gripping the flesh of your ass and pulling you flush against him, the hard line of his body pressing against yours in a way that made you gasp, “Never g-gonna s-stop,” you whispered back, the taste of him lingering on your tongue as he kissed you harder, rougher, swallowing every sound you made.

"Fuck, I’m close," he gasped, his forehead resting against yours as he fought to hold back, to make this last, but you could feel him losing control, feel the tension coiling tight in his body. His hips moved with a relentless, desperate need, his breath broken and uneven.

“Rafe—” you nearly cried, your body shaking beneath him. Every thrust, every touch, every breath was pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Let go for me, baby,” he encouraged you, two fingers still rubbing teasing circles over your sensitive clit, “Come for me.”

Your body tightened around him as you came undone with a cry of his name. Rafe groaned as he felt you clench around him, fluttering so perfectly.

His release was not far behind as he thrust into you one last time, before pulling out with a strangled moan, his body shuddering as he came all over your tummy, his head falling to your shoulder.

Rafe stayed there for a while, catching his breath, his body still shaking like a leaf as the tremors of pleasure coursed through him.

Taking his time, he lifted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. "I love you," he said it again, as he gazed down at you, his thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed cheek. "So damn much."

You never looked so heartbreakingly beautiful. Like a fucking painting.

You grinned from ear to ear, your heart swelling with affection as you held his face in your hands, pulling him for another kiss. "I love you too," you murmured against his lips, your fingers threading through his hair, "Always."

Rafe’s lips curved into a smile against yours, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered. You were his, and he was yours—completely, utterly, and without question

[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Tornado Warnings | Jonathan Crane

hi im back! sorry for being so inactive. i'm trying to write whenever i have like a min to breathe from uni...anyways i wanted to write something that feels like fall? does that make sense? probably not LOL

summary — the best thing to do to pass time in a power outage is sex, obviously.

warnings — smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f!receiving), super soft lover boy jonathan, fluff

word count — 1.8k

masterlist

MDNI 18+ ONLY

“Oh.”

Your voice cut through the silence in Jonathan and yours’ shared, cozy bedroom as the previously dimly lit room was now consumed in total darkness. “I don’t like this,” you said to your boyfriend who was beside you in bed as you tossed your book down, “I was trying to read.” 

A tornado warning for Gotham was issued earlier, but they said that’s all it was — just a warning. However, the turbulent wind clearly had some effect on your home, as the power was now out. Like you said to Jonathan; you were just trying to read, but it seemed like Mother Nature had other plans. 

Plus, you weren’t a big fan of the dark. Couldn’t the power have gone off at any other time besides nearly midnight? 

“You’re funny, you know that?” Jonathan said with a chuckle, and if you could’ve seen him right now, you knew you’d see him smiling. You heard some shuffling as Jonathan reached over, presumably to grab his phone, and turning on the flashlight. “Stay here, I’m going to grab some candles to light.” 

“I’m scared,” you whined. “I hate the dark.”

“You’ll live,” he teased, getting up before leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned, candles in hand. “Good thing you insisted we go to Target and get all these candles for fall.” 

For someone as malicious and unhinged as he was, his tough exterior would crack (more like completely shatter) when he was around you. Since Jonathan is constantly consumed by his work, he likes to spend time with you as much as he can when he isn’t at Arkham (and poisoning Gotham) working late. So, that means if you want to get Starbucks and go shopping for fall candles at Target — he’s there. 

No questions asked.

Sure, he may have been a corrupt psychiatrist as well as a hardened criminal and one of Gotham’s many rogues, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to do domestic things with his girlfriend. On Saturday nights, he would be working till the early hours of the morning with his patients and his toxin — only to spend the following Sunday wrapped up in bed with you watching silly Netflix shows.

The best of both worlds is how Jonathan would put it. 

“You always say I have too many,” you huffed, to which he laughed softly, lighting the 3-wick candles.

“That’s because you have like, what, fifty? Our entire house smells like maple pecan waffles all the time, twenty-four-seven — but you get so excited over them. It’s cute. I love watching you get all excited over this kind of stuff.” 

You blushed at his words, looking over at his handsome face, now illuminated by the dim light of multiple lit candles placed throughout your bedroom. “Shut up,” you mumble, watching him get back into bed with you. “Just come here and love me.”

He looked at you with those heart-stopping blue eyes of his, pulling you in for a soft kiss. Instinctively, you wrapped your around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. “I’ve missed you,” he said between kisses, dragging them down your neck and nipping gently at the delicate skin. “Hate when work keeps me away from you, my dear.”

“I know,” you said quietly, eyes fluttering shut from the feeling of his lips against your skin. “I hate it, too. I…” You felt yourself losing your train of thought as his hands roamed your body, settling on your waist as you two lay cozied up in the bed. 

“Let me show you how much I’ve missed you, my darling,” he whispered, squeezing your waist gently as you rested your head comfortably against the pillows, lying back. “All I could think about at work was you. All alone at home…waitin’ for me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He left a trail of kisses all down your body, slowly building up to where you wanted him to go. Luckily for Jonathan, tonight — even amid a tornado warning — you decided to wear your favourite lace slip to bed with nothing underneath, making it all the more easy for him to access every part of you. 

Within minutes, he had you slipping out of your lace as you tossed the delicate garment somewhere onto the bedroom floor with only one thing on your mind right now. The rather intimate and romantic lighting from the collection of candles dimly lighting up the room wasn’t helping your case either. 

Jonathan’s intoxicating touch brought you back to reality, and you weren’t sure how it happened (not that you care how it came to be), but his hands were gently resting on your thighs as he lay between your legs, his crystalline blue eyes filled with hunger. 

At this very moment, you sent a silent thank you to Mother Nature for causing this to happen during ovulation week because yes, you were so horny that your glistening cunt was dripping onto the bedsheets underneath you and he hadn’t even touched you there yet. All you knew was that you needed to be touched, to be fucked, to be loved right now and thank god Jonathan was here to satisfy that primal need in you. 

“Please, Jon — we haven’t had sex in like two days,” you whined, causing him to let out a breathless laugh as he smiled sweetly at you. He may have found it funny that you were this desperate (after only 48 hours…) but you didn’t find a thing about this situation humorous. With your hormones clouding your judgment, you started to beg your loving boyfriend. “Come on Jonathan, I–”

Before you could muster up any more whines and pleas, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, swiping his tongue through your folds as you arched your back and let out a guttural moan.

“O-oh—“ 

He lapped up your cunt skillfully as his hands kept a firm grip on your thighs, making sure that he was eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Delicious,” he mumbled against your cunt, continuing to lick, nip, and eat your pussy out as if it was the last thing he’d ever get to do in this lifetime. 

Mere minutes in and you were already arching your back, breathlessly saying his name over and over again — he could never get tired of hearing you like this. The way you’d feverishly moan “Oh, Jonathan,” and occasionally if you were exceptionally into it, you’d sometimes call him “baby,” and that always wound him up. Jonathan could spend ages with his face buried between your thighs, but it seemed that you were already close to coming pretty quickly. 

“Yes! Please–” you frantically moaned, feeling the waves of your release starting to wash over you with his tongue deep inside your soaking hole, lapping up all your juices. “Jon, baby, I’m gonna…”

Jonathan continued to eat you out as if he were a starved man through your orgasm, letting you ride it out and rut against his face until you were pushing his head away softly from the slight overstimulation. After getting up from between your legs, he wiped your arousal off of his chin, looking at you as if you were the answer to his every prayer. 

“God, you’re like a dream,” he said softly, causing your cheeks to heat up. 

Before any more romantic words could roll off the tip of his tongue, you were helping him out of his black pyjama shirt and his checkered pyjama pants (and yes, you found his love of checkered pyjama pants adorable). As soon as you tugged his pyjama pants down, his cock sprung out, slapping his stomach lightly.

“Fuck, look how hard you get me, darling,” he praised, stroking himself a few times before lining himself up with your drooling hole. He smirked as he teased the tip of his cock against your folds, watching you make a mess of the sheets underneath you just from how wet you were alone once again. “Looks like you’ve been missing me too, hm darling?” 

“So bad,” you agreed with a whimper, which turned straight into a moan as he started to push the head of his cock in. He let you get adjusted to him as you slowly took him inch by inch until you were full with his thick cock, walls stretching to accommodate his size.

“F-fuck, so f..full,” you choked out as he started to move slowly, warm hands coming to hold your hips as he gently started fucking you in the candlelight. 

“But you take it so well, darling,” he cooed softly, fucking you with a bit more force now. “Such a good girl, fuck. Look at you, taking my cock so deep.” 

“Mmm,” you mindlessly babbled, his fat cock causing you to lose all inhibitions as he (literally) fucked you stupid. “Oh, b-big–” 

As you squeaked out whatever words you could form, he let out a low groan himself, starting to really pound your warm, tight hole. You could feel his tip brushing up against that spongy spot inside of you, which in return caused you to start moaning almost helplessly.

“Right there?” He teased, watching your face contort in pure bliss and pleasure. “That feel good, darling? Jesus, you’re so pretty…”

He choked out a few incohesive curses as he felt you tighten up around him while he talked you through it, clearly already close from him plowing your cunt for just a few minutes. This was usually the best type of sex between you and Jonathan — whenever you two would just ravish each other in bed all…lovingly. Extra points if it was romantic like this; under the candlelight in a power outage. 

“Yes! Fuck, keep going, Jon,” you hoarsely screamed out as he fucked you raw, slamming his cock into your tight little cunt as you got close to your second orgasm and he was following right behind you.

“So tight,” he mumbled. “Perfect fucking pussy, so fucking good—” 

“Gon’ cum..I’m gonna–!” You whined before your vision went white, cunt clenching down around his length as you drenched him and the sheets. 

Jonathan looked down in awe as a clear liquid poured out of you, spilling all over him, his cock, and the sheets. The sight of you squirting that much sent his brain into overdrive as he gave a few more sloppy thrusts before spurting his warm, sticky cum onto your plush walls. As he filled your cunt, he let out a rather loud groan, gripping your hips so tight it almost hurt. 

For a moment, all was still and silent as the two of you caught your breaths in the now slightly stuffy bedroom that smelt like a mix of sex and whatever pumpkin-spiced and cinnamon-scented candles you had going. Jonathan was the first to speak as he finally pulled out of you, careful not to hurt you, and pulled you close into his arms the second he laid back down beside you. 

“I’m never going to stop you from getting your candles ever again,” he decided jokingly, kissing the top of your head. 

“See,” you said proudly, “they set the mood and they smell good.” 

“True,” he said, pausing for a moment before looking down at the soaked bedding then back at you with a smile. “So, we should probably clean the sheets…”

taglist ->

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@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @esotericdoe

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@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebellebarnes @wiseyouthinfluencer

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@fauxcongenialite @ceruleanrainblues @o0laura @fiona-my-love @cranecat

@hfidnnf

[ghostybaby000]

Gone | Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+, fighting, cursing, general violence, symptoms of panic, fluff

Tag List: @yyiikes @talooolaaloolla @strawberrygato @cumsluut @sofiacoppolaslut @blackbeautyiloveyouso @casalucard @identity2212

You squeeze his hand as you push through the large crowd of people. There’s noises coming from every direction, people no more than a few inches apart at a time. You make your way outside the building to being outside, leaves and other debris you can feel crunching under your feet as you follow Simon. There were still far too many people outside for you to even think of letting go of his hand, you were sure to get lost. 

He makes his way through the sea of people, keeping his head down with you directly behind him, there was no way you were letting go of his hand, he squeezes yours ever so slightly to remind you that he wasn’t letting go either.

 You both finally push into a clearing where you see he’s found a table, and it feels like you can breathe again. You sit down at the small table as Simon pulls up a chair to be seated with you, scraping the concrete as he does. You look around the park where rides flew in the background, loud noises of machines were going off in the distance, and you hear people laughing as they pass by. You were just about exhausted, but the excitement of being here with him only grew with every new machine or challenge you found. You feel the ache in your feet from the hours that you’ve already been here, and looking to Simon you can tell he is just as tired. 

As Simon is unfolding the map to the park, you see a familiar set of faces approach from behind Simon. Before they reach him he turns around to see them both, John and his date. You wave hello as Simon stands to pull another table closer to yours. John grabs a set of chairs in each arm, and places them to be seated across from you and Simon. 

Both John and Simon chatted as you and his date did the same. It was originally meant to be a double date, but you both found you wanted to do different things and instead agreed to meet after a few hours to check in. John’s date was a medium height with long wavy hair, and a good sese of humor. You had only met her once or twice before but always found her to be welcoming. You chat over the rides and how scared John’s date was at the thought of rollercoasters, and how John thought the games were tampered with, earning him a dramatic eye roll. Under the table Simon’s hand thumbed over your thigh as they spoke, you wouldn’t ever protest the constant connection to him. After probably a half hour, John’s date was itching to see more of the park and admittedly you were too. Saying goodbye to the two of them as you again were hand in hand with Simon to another portion of the park. 

This park wasn’t incredibly large, in fact you could probably know your way around without the map by the end of the night, although they were still handed out at every other booth just in case. One part was sectioned off for food while the other sections held rides and booths to play games. Simon had been following you around, taking on the challenges of a few different booths, some of them being more difficult than he’d expected. He saw how your face lit up when you saw a reward from behind a stand, and he knew it was yours. One booth in particular got his attention, lights surrounded its frame with plush toys hanging on either side. The goal of this booth was to throw a baseball at glass bottles, and by knocking down a certain number of bottles, you would get a prize. 

He started out by giving a reasonable toss, one that looked as if it should of knocked over the bottles with ease, they didn’t move. He tried again this time throwing slightly harder, one of the bottles falls. The man behind the booth demanded that for the larger rewards, you had to make all of your throw’s count, Simons eyes narrowed at the man. You tug on his sleeve,

‘Oh c’mon Simon there’s so much more to look at! Let’s go.’ Simon pulls out his wallet and hands the man more money, as you gently let go of his shirt. He gives Simon three baseballs; each would have to hit and knock over the glasses. Simon takes a small step back before winding up and throwing the ball at the rows of bottles, he was determined. It hits two bottles taking them both down, making a clank as they fell. Again he leans into his throw, giving himself a bit of thrust he releases the next ball, one bottle knocking over. He rears back a third time to throw the ball, pushing himself just slightly harder, and it grazes the bottle, tipping over-it falls. 

Simon swells with pride, his posture becoming more straight, he looks at the seller and points to a plush a few rows back,

‘I want that one, right there.’ 

A smile comes over your face as people make their way through the park behind you, more busy now that night was getting closer. A group breaks to walk around you, you reach for Simons arm just as he steps forward and out of reach to get his prize, what looked like a stuffed animal. Someone brushes past you aggressively, pushing you backwards and farther from Simon, into the large groups passing by. you turn looking both directions for the person who had run into you carelessly, there were too many people to tell any difference between them.

You swear it was only a second, maybe less that you took your eyes off of his tall broad back.  You hear the rides behind you, people screaming in a joyous fear, when you feel hands come around to cover your mouth, and it all fades to black. 

Simon turns around on his heel, the pride momentarily spread on his face. He looks around thinking you were looking at a ride or had maybe found John again in the mix of people. His eyes bounce between peoples faces, searching for your features that were so familiar. He felt his hand squeeze around the bear you had wanted, that he had won you only seconds ago. Immediately Simon feels his chest tighten, an entire new anxiety taking his every thought. 

He searches for anywhere you could have gone, but there were just too many people. He feels his breaths becoming shallow as the panic strangled him with every thought. He goes back to the concession stand where you had been moments ago, stepping up onto the counter, he doesn’t hear the man telling him to get down. He doesn’t hear the people on the rides, he doesn’t hear the children screaming in the distance. He hears nothing but your sweet voice that kissed his ears moments ago, the sound of his heart pounding in his head, the sound of fear taking hold. 

[websterss]

ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE — TYLER HARRISON

SUMMARY: Tyler has everything to lose especially when Weyland Corps has you in their hold, so why wouldn't he follow through with his orders in order to get you back.

WARNING(S): angst, fluff,

WORD COUNT: 2,844

PAIRING: Tyler Harrison x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Tyler sat rigid and on edge as he waited in the west wing of the ship's infirmary bay. The cool metal bench seeped through his pants as he bounced his knee for five minutes. The long wait agitated him and made him uneasy. He clocked his three o'clock and then his nine, both ends of the hallways vacant and deserted apart from him and his need to see you. They usually were sporadic with being on time and persisting he be there on time for his debrief before he was allowed to see you again. That was Weyland's leverage over him, holding you high over his head, out of reach, and using your status updates as a means to get him to cave into doing their dirty work.

This new task made him feel like a snake. Made him hate the way he was going to have to betray those he cared about. Rain. How she and Andy were his first step in getting you back to him. This was the last of many debriefs he had been given before, many tasks where he had to carry out and commit crimes that plagued and haunted his dreams. Everything he's done, everything he was about to do was unforgivable. There was also that slight voice in the back of his head weighing all the possibilities where you would find out about his assignments and leave him. He at times thinks you should but you never do. You don't leave because if there was one thing that was keeping you here, still being with him, it was the undying love you had for one another.

"Harrison." A nurse calls out, pulling him out of his spiraling. He straightens his back and stands up. "Follow me."

Tyler nods, not one to question orders, and follows the nurse down the hallway quietly.

Tyler follows the nurse through multiple lefts and rights. He reigned in on the fact you weren’t easily accessible to reach. The facility was large and sterile, cold and unsettling. The nurse leads him down to a large room that looks more like a high-tech lab. They reach the closed door, where she swipes her badge across the scanner, a beep is emitted from the device and before he knew it the door was swishing open in a slide. The second his foot crosses the threshold, he meets your gaze. He takes no time in rushing towards you, wrapping his arms around your fragile state. He sighs, breathing in your scent, the oxygen cords inserted in your nostrils colliding with his chest as he hugs you gently but firmly.

"Ty!" You breathe out, a smile dawning on your tired expression.

Tyler feels himself at ease at the sound of your voice, his arms tighten around you as if you would disappear if he let go. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking his time to drink in the sight of you alive in front of him.

"Hey, sweetheart." He greets you tenderly, pulling back to get a proper look at you. You look so small and fragile in comparison to the massive medical bed you're lying in. The oxygen tubes in your nostrils and the plethora of wires that run from you to the various pieces of medical machinery make you look more like an experiment than a person. It breaks him to always see you this way. His gaze never falters from you as he calls over his shoulder to the nurse. "Leave us." Once he hears the swish of the door open and close again he looks back and then faces you once again. You look back at the door, feeling at ease now that you have him all to yourself.

"I've missed you. You weren't here last week. T-they said I'm getting better." Your breaths are slow and labored.

"I know. I couldn't come." A pang of guilt makes his stomach twist as he remembers the real reason he hadn't shown. "But I'm here now, alright? Sorry, I couldn't be here earlier." The words felt like bile in his mouth, but he pushed past the feeling as he squeezed your hand in his. "I had a meeting to attend to, but all's well and said now. I'm here and I'm all yours." He reaches forward to tuck one side of your oxygen tube behind your ear.

"I-I like the sound of that." You hum in delight, melting into his gentle caresses.

"Of course you do. You're pretty easy to please, sweetheart." Ty teases softly, his thumb rubbing small circles against the top of your knuckles. He studies your features, noting how tired you look, he can also see that your hair is getting long and unkempt. The sight of your hair growing back gives him all the hope he needs to push through.

"I missed seeing your smile." He murmurs, his hand continuing to stroke against your temple and hair. A beat of silence passes. "I think the treatments are starting to pay off. We were right to start you on them. I mean you're glowing compared to how you were these last two months." He beams. "How have they been treating you here? Is everything okay? Have they been too harsh or rough on you? I'll get Captain Mayfair to provide you with better nurses if they are. I won't hesitate to–" He inquires, his voice lowered slightly.

"Ty, baby, it's okay. They've made sure to make me feel as comfortable as possible."

"Promise?" Ty probes, staring earnestly into your eyes. "You would tell me, right? If they have been harming you? You'd tell me."

The way Tyler's looking at you lets him know there's a good chance that if any of the staff here have been making you feel uncomfortable you wouldn't complain. He knows you'd be too nice to even consider it.

"You'd kill anyone on sight if you so much as saw a bruise on my skin…I'm okay." You reassure him. Squeezing his hands. He looks down at your grip, amazed by the strength you've garnered again.

He chuckles, looking down at your intertwined hands, a soft breath of relief passing through his lips. The slight squeeze of your hand does little to soothe his fears, but for the moment, he lets himself bask in the fact that you're okay. It's more than he can hope for given the circumstances.

"You don't know the half of what I would do for you." He murmurs, slowly bringing your hand up to his lips. He plants a light kiss on your knuckles. "You're my top priority, infinitely."

"Infinitely?" You try to mask your chuckle, but he hears you anyway. "Two weeks ago you said I was a top priority, yet eternally."

"Forgive me, my love, for thinking you're the most important thing in the entire goddamn universe?" He smirks, rolling his eyes playfully as a scoff bubbles from his lips. He gives you a lopsided smile, bringing your hand to his cheek to nuzzle his face into it. He shuts his eyes and relishes the feeling of you against his skin. "You're top priority every single day and that's not going to change, you know. But when I say eternally…" His eyes open, looking back up at you. "I mean eternally. Until I die, or if you give out on me, and I no longer have you, the one thing keeping me from jumping into space without a suit. You're my top priority, no matter what. It's you above everything and everyone!"

"Well…I-I wouldn't go as far as to say above everyone, surely there are others that trump me-"

Ty pulls back slightly, a small frown playing at his features as he cocks his head to the side to look at you more directly.

"No." He asserts, his voice firm. "No. Don't even go there. You're top prior, my love. You are above all of them. You'll always be above everyone. I wouldn't be where I am today without you by my side. I wouldn't still be breathing if it weren't for you. You're the–the center of the Milky Way, my love. You are a…" He pauses, searching your eyes for any doubt, glitching when his brain farted.

"A black hole?" You quipp.

"Hush." He teases, grinning down at you. He playfully jabs your side with his index finger, watching a small smile grace your features. Seeing that smile makes his heart leap into his throat. He'll never get used to it. "You cheeky thing." He mutters, grabbing your other free hand. He takes it in his, intertwining the other hand that was there. He brings both your hands up to his lips again and gently kisses your knuckles. "You're more than a black hole. You're a supernova that's going to explode everyone's galaxy." He pauses, his smile never leaving his lips. "Including mine."

You flush under his warm eyes. You bite down on your bottom lip, your demeanor evolving into one of timidness. He had got you with that one, that was for sure. And he seemed to notice the fault in your composure. His smirk only grew.

"Really? That's the one that gets you?" He coos, grinning at the lovely flush that was spreading to your cheeks. It wasn't often that he was able to render you into a speechless blushing mess but when he could, my god did it fill him with an incredible amount of pride and love for you. His fingers gently squeeze your knuckles. "I'll remember this for next time, my love. Duly noted." He remarks slyly.

"It was good…" You laugh.

"It was pretty good, huh?" He teases lightly, his thumbs slowly starting to rub soothing circles against your knuckles. He chuckles, bringing his gaze up to your eyes again. "You don't make it too hard, my love. Just mentioning anything with a celestial connection and you're blushing like a school-aged teen, practically eating right out of the palms of my hands."

"It's the accent." You shrug. Blaming his pronunciation of his words and delivery. Mostly the delivery.

"Oh, now you're just grasping at straws, sweetheart." He quips again, grinning at you. "Now, I admit, my accent might be one of the finer things about me, but it's not exactly the primary reason you get all flushed." He hums, letting his thumbs press a little harder into your knuckles.

“You’re right, it’s all your hotness that’s making me swoon.” You feign a sigh.

"Yeah right, you big fibber." He calls you out, but there's a hint of a smirk that forms on his face. "You're swooning because you know who I belong to." He replies, his voice taking on a lower, gruff tone. "You swoon because you know I'm yours." His voice is just above a whisper, his eyes darkening. "Only yours, sweetheart."

You avert your gaze down to your lap. A faint smile displayed on your lips. But it slowly fades as Tyler tilts his head to meet your eyes. "W-what did they tell you?"

Tyler's face quickly morphs from playful to apprehensive. His thumbs had stopped their motion and now rested against your knuckles as he looked into your eyes.

"Let's not. Let's not talk about that right now." He says carefully, his dark eyes narrowing.

"Tyler, I can see it practically eating at you. What is it this time? What are they sending you to do?"

Tyler's jaw clenches, his eyes closing briefly as he lets out a soft sigh. He had been praying to anyone that you weren't going to mention his work for Weyland-Yutani. He should have known better. You were never the type to simply ignore the big elephant in the room.

His lips form into a thin line as he averts his gaze away from you. His mind is in an internal debate, contemplating whether to be honest with you or not. Tyler bites at the inside of his cheek, hesitating before he decides to speak.

"There's something new." He pauses, trying to organize his words. He looks at your face, noticing the growing sadness in your expression. His eyes soften as a wave of sadness mirrors over his own features. "They…" He pauses again, his jaw clenching slightly. "They told me it would be a retrieval."

"A retrieval for what?"

"Some sort of substance called Plagiarus Praepotens?" 

"Plagiarus Praepotens? What's that?"

"They didn't tell me much just that it was extracted from a xenomorph and combined with human DNA to perfect humans, whatever that means."

"A xenomorph...what the hell is that?"

"From what I’ve been told. I don't want to know."

"Tyler maybe this one isn't such a good idea. I mean from the sounds of it, it doesn't feel safe."

"I don't have a choice, my love." He mumbles, his head lowering in shame and guilt, the reality of the situation hitting him like a truck. He releases your hand from his grip and turns his whole body away from you. It pains him to feel weak but the truth is that is exactly what he is in the grand scheme of things. "I have my orders so I have to do this. I'll get them what they need, but not only that…" He inhales deeply. "I found a way to get us to Yvaga."

"Yvaga…Tyler what are you talking about?"

For the first time since you've known him, he looked desperate. In the years you'd been together, you've never once seen a crack in his confidence. He was always the strong and steady shoulder for you to lean on, but right now, in this very moment, that facade he usually wore was cracking. The facade he'd tried so hard to keep up for you was crumbling.

"I-" He pauses, swallowing thickly. "I have a plan."

"Ty…" You warned.

His eyes flicker around your face, his fingers twitching against his pants. His features shifting from desperate, to guilty and then finally to pleading. "There's cryostasis chambers on that spacecraft." He murmurs, licking his lips nervously. "I-I just need you to trust me."

"You're gonna go rogue…"

"No. No, I'm-" He stops himself short and he sighs deeply. "I-" He hesitates. His eyes are locked on your face and a wave of guilt washes over him as he sees the look in your eyes. "Damnit." He mumbled under his breath, his shoulders slumping.

He leans forward from where he sat on your bed, bringing his head close to yours. He tilts his head down and presses his forehead against your shoulder, his hands coming up to rest on either side of your waist. "Sweetheart…" He mutters, his voice hoarse. "I'll tell you everything. I swear. But, you have to trust me." He pleaded. He could feel your body stiffen against him, whether it was from the pain of his grip or from what he was asking of you, he didn't know. "I just want to get you out of here."

"Yvaga was always just a pipedream for us…It always felt so out of reach." You shake your head.

"It's not, my love." He whispers against your shoulder. He tightens his grip on your body ever so slightly. "It's not out of reach. I know it's not. I-I just need you to hold on for a bit longer. Can you do that, for me?" He murmurs, his head slowly pulling away from your shoulder, so he can look you in the eyes again. His expression had changed to one of almost desperation. "I meant every would I said about getting you out of here and I intend to keep my word."

"I know you do Tyler, but what are the risks huh? What's the catch in all this?"

"I-" He cuts himself off short, his eyes flickering away from your face for a moment. He knew he couldn't lie to you, you wouldn't accept that. But the truth wasn't going to make the situation any better. Instead, he slowly drags his hand up from your side to wrap a piece of your hair around his finger. He gently rubbed the strands between his fingers. He took a deep shaky breath before he was able to answer you. "Honestly..." He began, his voice low. "I need Andy to be able to access the entryways onto the ship."

"Andy? But that would mean you'd need to talk to Rain about him."

He nods his head slowly. "Yeah…I-" He pauses, hesitating. "I-I'll have to talk to Rain." He replies, his tone sounding reluctant. He didn't want to get anyone else involved in the situation, especially since he was essentially putting them on the line in the process. But what other choice did he have?

"Y-you're not gonna tell her about all this are you?" Your voice grows shaky.

He shakes his head slowly, his brow furrowing. "No." He murmurs in response. There was no way in hell he was going to drag anyone else into this. Putting you at risk was the last thing he wanted to do, but there were no other options. "It's you above everything and everyone else."

[azrielgreen]

✨PRISM Q&A✨

-Answering all built up ANONs and DMs about ✨PRISM✨ thanks for all the love, support and enthusiasm to each asker!

Q: Building on the topic someone else asked about how prism Eddie would be if he and Steve had kids… you said he would ultimately love them and be fiercely protective of them because they are an extension of Steve (and himself), and I do see that happening but im also thinking of another possibility: Eddie is definitely (and I think you two both said so?) a Narcissist, so from real life scenarios, I’m wondering if he would-and let’s pretend Steve could carry children in this hypothetical-like the lead up to having kids (aka Steve’s pregnancy and planning ahead), but when the baby arrives, would find himself being rather annoyed by Steve’s shift in devotion to someone else, even if that someone is their kid. I know he does not exclusively have narcissism so there are other factors, but I could see how Steve shifting his focus to their kid could act as an-unexpected or not-conflict for him. I also do wonder if the more realistic scenario of adoption would change things, as they wouldn’t be as connected-genetics wise-to Steve…. Hopefully this makes sense also I’m so excited for prism to come back next month!!!

A: I’m genuinely obsessed with how many people want to discuss an Omegaverse!Prism AU, it blows my mind! So, yeah building on the aforementioned answer, I don’t believe there would be any conflict in terms of Steve’s attention. Eddie likes that Steve has the kids, Robin, etc… he see himself as very generous and does have his own life to tend to, so there would be a decent balance. What he wouldn’t like is if Steve tried to leave and take the kids, if someone ELSE tried to interfere with his parenting or turn the child against him. Prism Eddie has narcissistic traits, absolutely, but that’s not his full disorder, or certainly not his main one. Adoption would be much the same, Eddie loves the idea of building a family/found family and creating a little village (cult-like commune) for their chosen few. It wouldn’t be that different from Steve being pregnant and creating kids of their own DNA. Eddie can sway anyone, look at Will. All that being said, I think Eddie WOULD struggle with clashing with Steve over parenting ideology. Eddie is obsessed with creating a family around him and the person he loves and he’ll do it one way or another, as we will see a fair amount of in Part Three. Ultimately, Eddie saw very clearly a lot of the mistakes Billy made in isolating Steve and told himself he wouldn’t make those same mistakes (even if sometimes he DOES, just in different ways) so no, I don’t think he would be resentful of Steve’s focus onto their children. Eddie has no North without Steve. If Steve loves something, so Eddie feels like he loves it too, i.e. Robin. There’s a degree of nuance about the things Eddie himself loves and how he loves them, and the majority of it revolves around Steve so in a way, Eddie would follow Steve’s lead a great deal with the kids and respect the path HE carves.

Q: This is spoiler territory so I get it if you can’t answer, but will Steve ever be made aware in some capacity of the type of person Eddie is- like what he’s done and how manipulative he has been throughout their entire relationship? Or are these traits something that Steve would just be into anyway?

A: I can definitely answer to some degree! Yes, Steve will realise some of what you mentioned here, some of it he recognises over the next few chapters as Eddie opens up more now they’re TOGETHER✨. Some smaller elements Steve is already putting together. What I will say is that Eddie does not want to hide who he is from Steve forever.

Q: In Prism, do you think if Billy was let out of prison and went back to find Steve do you think Steve would give in and get back with him?

A: We’ll get to explore this in Part Three to some extent, so I won’t spoil anything but what I will say is that all characters in this fucked up little soap opera are always changing and growing (even if not in good ways) and that Billy and Steve are not the same people they were the last time they saw each other. I don’t think for a second Steve would “get back with him” even without Eddie, but Steve will always love him to a point. Billy’s focus on Part Three is less about getting Steve back and more getting him away from Eddie.

Q: Does Prism Eddie kinda still want Billy? I think about their post-cocaine bathroom all the time and how later he thought to himself he’ll always love Billy in a way, and I know you have said Billy is coming back for part 3!!!

A: Yes, there’s a part of Eddie that’s fascinated by Billy, strangely affectionate towards him (how he thinks of it, the way a cat is “affectionately” playing with a mouse) and they’ll have their own dynamic in Part Three, definitely. There’s a couple of scenes I’m insanely excited to write with the two of them!

Q: I AM VIBRATING OUT OF MY SKIN ABOUT “THE EVENT TM”!!! please can you give any hints?? we beg a morsel

A: ahh, I really don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll tread very carefully. Hmm, I suppose I could say that the Event (due in around 2-3 chapters time) is a catastrophe as of yet unseen in Prism for the fallout it causes and that it puts foundational cracks in everything.

Q: How do Eddie’s six play into the third part? I’m constantly rereading all their scenes, imagining their backgrounds, how they came to be where they are now. You’ve created this fully realised world and it’s just mind-blowing.

A: We’ll learn more about his six as the story unfolds, but for the most part, they can’t be brought in close to the “family” in the town yet. There will, however, be scenes where Steve meets them all in the next chapter or so!

Q: would you consider making any Prism merch? Would buy a journal or a candle in a heartbeat!!!!!

A: Ahh that’s so kind! I’d love to, actually. A journal would be SO cool!

Q: Hi!!! I love Prism WAY way too much and I think a lot about Eddie’s tattoos!!!! Do you think we could ever get to see what the finger tattoo/cult tattoo looks like? Or his wolf? The winged creature? Not that I’m obsessed at all!!?

A: Yes, I’d love to do that at some point. I could probably post the finger tattoo (sword through the sun) although I’d say to wait because over the next few chapters, there’s a couple of new additions!

Q: Hi Az!! Huge fans of you and Brooke! Can I ask how you manage to write SO MUCH and yet keep it so tight?🖤

A: That’s so kind! I think we have a very strict editing process whereby we both make multiple passes of a single chapter. I also tend to reread past chapters fairly obsessively, keeping track of continuity, dates, patterns. We ALSO have several docs for idea pools and detail tracking plus a VERY IMPRESSIVE timeline I made myself which I can’t post sadly because it’s full of spoilers. We work very well in tracking little things that would definitely get out of control otherwise, it’s a beautiful system.

Q: Do we ever find out what happened to Will?

A: I actually am not sure if we’ll share explicitly what it was that happened, as it’s equally impactful not knowing and casts a shadow either way, but maybe!

Q: in the Prism A/B/O verse, would Steve miscarry due to Billy beating him?😭😭😭

A: Sadly yes, and quite often.

Q: can we expect some Prism merch ?! 👀

A: absolutely, I’ll run a poll for what people would like

Q: Are there any plots or scenes in Prism that you and Brooke thought would go one direction but ended up being something entirely new or different when it was finished?

A: Yes! Several, actually. Most times when this happens, we sort of lay it out and discuss it and the scene is usually very cold and brutal and then when we write it, it ends up being much more emotional than expected. One excellent example of this is very early on in Chapter Three where Steve and Eddie first have sex. The scene when we planned/started writing it was so upsetting I actually had a panic attack and that’s not because it was graphic or cruel or anything like that, but just the fact that it was, as we had written it that way, very clearly a rape scene. We ended up rewriting it -you can see the change where Eddie pulls away and says “no, I’m not doing this, he doesn’t want it” and sits in the chair and then STEVE has to pursue Eddie, which was so much worse than it being point blank rape but it just evolved that way naturally. I think I experienced my first severe bleed with Eddie and how WRONG it felt to do it that way which was extremely unsettling and upsetting. We since have boundaries in place to help us with the more triggering elements, Sometimes, however, a scene just naturally evolves while we’re writing it and we go with it. The argument between Billy and Steve before the crash was much simpler in it’s planning, so watching it become what it did was amazing. Honestly though, the entirety of Prism has become far grander and larger than what we ever set out to do and encouraging the evolution of it is, I think, our finest trait as co-writers. Many incredible ideas begin as one of us saying in a voice message “OK, this might be too much, but--!’ and then the other being open and encouraging of whatever madness it is. Prism really is the perfect example of what imagination running riot can do with a good support system. @thorniest-rose what were some of yours?

Q: Will Steve and Eddie refer to themselves as an official couple now that they both know how much they want each other or will it take a while for them to establish themselves as boyfriends? I know it didn’t really take long at all for Billy & Steve to be a thing, but with Eddie will they go the friends with benefits route or will they choose to take things ‘slow’ in their own flawed ways? - I know you guys have said, well as far as I can remember have said that Eddie won’t be physically abusive/harmful to Steve so I don’t expect that type of abuse, however we know that Eddie is still a bad, morally grey person and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll be emotionally, verbally, or mentally abusive to Steve? How will their unhealthy relationship dynamics come into play?

A: Steve and Eddie are absolutely not going to waste a single second of time in establishing themselves as boyfriends. This question honestly makes me giggle with glee because Eddie would marry Steve while fucking him while getting matching tattoos while on the way home from the church. It’s been such a long time coming and much of Eddie’s ability to be patient with the things he wants is cracking apart now. There will be no grace period. The world will know they are violently, desperately in love.

As for the second Q, this is far more complex and interesting. The easy answer is of course “No, absolutely not,” because Eddie loves Steve, he’s nothing like Billy and he’d never hurt Steve in any way he didn’t want – that’s how Eddie thinks of it. But the real answer requires the story to unfold more and as they become MORE entangled in one another’s lives and things get difficult, we see that Eddie does have the ability to hurt Steve and that Steve can hurt Eddie too. The unhealthy relationship dynamic will definitely be explored in depth as we get to see what them being ✨TOGETHER✨ really looks like and how it affects them as well as others. I think it’s best summed as this. When things are good, it’s fucking incredible, when things are bad, it’s like being at sea without a lighthouse.

Q: Are there any changes you would go back and retcon if you could before you started posting it? I Know you’ve said you both didn’t post until 50K and that you did make a few changes.

A: Honestly, I don’t think so. There’s only so much you can retcon and change before self doubt becomes a real obstacle in carving the path. I WOULD however establish from the start when Steve’s birthday was and construct the timeline from the inception as we came very close to being painted into a corner there! But otherwise not at all.

✨🖤🖤🖤✨

Thank you so much for all the enthusiasm and love!!!

✨🖤🖤🖤✨

[fleuraimer]

Wait wait wait can I perhaps ask for a blurb or like ur hcs on how boxer!carmy and reader get together??

ask and ye shall receive 😁

tw!! descriptions of violence + carmy's f*ckass family

boxer!carmy pt.3 even tho a series is in the works🙂‍↔️

first part. previous part.

boxer!carmy who usually holds a fair amount of nerves on every fight night. he's undefeated, sure, but that doesn't make him any less anxious. it's good for him—keeps his ego small. healthy, even (healthy in a twisted, mutilated sort of sense. where you strain your eyes staring at the ceiling until daylight and there's small crimson crescents in the palms of your hands when the sun crawls into your bedroom, head swirling with scenarios—memories—of failures, instead of just getting sleep.

like it was that fucking simple).

the only butterflies in his tummy tonight, however, are because of a certain pretty broad in pink.

boxer!carmy who, despite wanting to be disrespectful, prepares himself to tap gloves with timmy boy. he steps to the center of the ring, stops right before he bumps into the referee’s outstretched arm, just short of toe to toe with his opponent. the ref drones on and on about proper conduct and good sportsmanship, but carmy’s heard it so many times, it’s in one ear and out the other. but, even if the referee’s instructions are a distant ringing in the back of his mind, the commotion of the crowd, their cruelty—pussy! quitter! leave while you’re still breathin’, bitch! hope he knocks you so hard you di—it’s a raging roar in his mind

(too resemblant of his hysterical mother, glass of rouge in hand, spilling onto the floor in time with her flailing, we could’ve been something! too reminiscent of his hotheaded father, his heavy hand, curled around a belt.

one cannot be separated from the other, indiscernible. it’s easier to see one thing, anyway. easier to see red—).

he walks to his corner with a tremble in his hands and a quiver in his heart. plops down on his bench, and lets nacho work the knots of ingrained fear from his body, until nothing’s left but hurt. rage.

“hey, carm,” eddie utters from his crouched position in front of him, but he doesn’t register his attempt to grab his attention. he’s not here; carmy is gone, locked away somewhere safe where no one can hurt him anymore.

his chest shakes with stuttered breaths and his eyes rove over the arena with rapt anticipation, adrenaline coursing through his body; epinephrine, shot up his very veins. his knee bounces impatiently, jaw ticks (gums sore, jowls pooled with spit, hungry for a fight; thirsty for blood) in restlessness.

eddie catches the enfolded gaze of his boxer (sees somewhere, buried, murky, the small boy with no meat on his bones that came knocking on his gym door with a pain in his soul bigger—too big—than him, an ire in his body he could smell off his sweat, his tears, curled up in a corner with a beast by his side, a protector), and knows he’s ready.

“bear,” he says this time, and carmy’s eyes snap to his. eddie huffs a raspy chuckle with a soft shake of his head, smirks. “let it rip, kid.”

(real men wear pink).

boxer!carmy who’s on timothy the second the bell rings (he’s got a hunger to quell, after all, a thirst to quench). he leads with a cross to the body, and immediately follows with a corkscrew that spilts timmy’s cheek and sends him tumbling back. carmy can’t help the smile that twitches at his lips as he watches grayson trip over his feet. timmy returns with a vengeance, attacking carmy with a fakeout that bleeds into a left hook. carm’s head snaps to the right on impact, tastes the distinct tang of metallic in the bed of his maw. he spits his ichor onto the canvas, rolls his tight shoulders, and barely lets timmy get another blow in for the rest of the round.

he’s got a sore left cheek and a cut on his brow bone by the time he saunters back to his corner, but his head ain’t poundin’ and his vision is crystal clear—and he’s hungry for more, ready to sink his teeth in and lock his jowls—

benny ices any places that were hit particularly hard, and slabs a thick glob of vaseline over his brow wound before he’s sending him back into the ring with the encouragement to rip him apart.

boxer!carmy who’s only had a few knockouts in his career. he’s made people tumble, take a knee or fall back into the ropes plenty, but he can count on one hand the amount of times he’s made someone crash flat on their back, their stomach, their face, that crack of canvas against skin, blackout. knockout.

it’s halfway through round six when carmy knocks a beaten bloodied and battered timothy grayson right onto his ugly fuckin’ mug in front of 80,000 people.

he could now count on two hands the amount of times he’s knocked someone out in his career. blackout (lights out. night-night, timmy boy).

boxer!carmy who defends his title like the bear he is, and somehow makes it out on the other end with a relatively spotless face, minus a cut to his brown bone and split in the corner of his lip. he skips most of the pleasantries he’s usually so eager to debrief after the fight (it’s nice to have someone who wants to listen, who wants to know the struggle and indignation it took to get where he is), he’s got no time, doesn’t care when thoughts of a certain girl in a pink sweater dress with spaghetti straps and tiny triangle cups and gold jewelry and pink kitten heels and a sultry, killer smile framed by the plumpest, shiniest lips are running rampant in his mind.

boxer!carmy who slips through the ropes and into the crowd in search of said girl, that pretty broad in pink, who he finds making her way to him.

boxer!carmy who forgets about any and everything that isn’t her the second they stop in front of each other.

“nice belt,” she utters softly, the first to break the silence. hands clasped behind her pretty arched back and long lashes fluttering over molten, impish brown sugar eyes.

“you doin’ anything later?” carmy asks, her acknowledgement of his accomplishment flying straight over his head. she smiles coyly up at him.

shakes her head, “mm-hmm.”

he notes the way her eyes snap down when his tongue peaks out to lick over his chapped bottom lip. bites back a smirk as his head tilts curiously.

“wanna come back to my hotel with me, cub?”

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s implying.

her smile seems to widen, “sure, bear.”

boxer!carmy who leads the pretty broad in pink back inside the ring—opens and sits on the rope for her to slip through first—and into his corner. he sits on the little bench while she introduces herself to the others—Y/N, a pretty name for a pretty broad—and leans his head against the padded pole as he huffs out still shallow breaths. shuts his eyes (goes into his mind and toward the dark corner with the boy and his protector, tells them it’s all over).

he flinches softly when her feels something scratch at his forearm, a weight on his wrists. cracks his eyes back open to find his pretty broad, on her knees, before him, delicately undoing the laces of his gloves.

“we’re matching,” she says, tone dripping with molasses. she tugs at his boxing shorts, and it’s only then carmy realizes why the crowd was probably so very rowdy and cruel tonight (i mean, it’s not every day you see a boxer who calls himself the bear wearing baby pink boxing shorts and matching gloves, is it?)

“you do that on purpose?” she mumbles, trying and failing to hide her pleased smirk, and tugs his gloves off. they both stare at the pink tape around his fingers. she quirks a tonic brow at him.

“can’t say i really noticed,” he mutters back, which is… scarily accurate.

boxer!carmy who doesn’t go to the post fight after party.

“c’mon, dude! y’just whooped him!” benny groans, talking to carmy on the other end of the shower, toothpick between his teeth.

“yeah, and now he’s whipped,” nacho mumbles under his breath.

carmy only rolls his eyes and continues to shower. he doesn’t care that its technically his celebration, he’s already got his dream present that he’s fucking gagging to unwrap.

after changing in his locker room (and satiating—benny more than nacho—both benny and nacho with $150 each and a promise to join them next time) he walks hand in hand with his pretty broad out the back exit

(it’s a wonder he doesn’t knockout one of the paps on their way out. he has grace, though, and he’s not that stupid, he did just brutally beat his opponent and then steal his girl).

he opens the door to the limousine for her and lets her climb in first, literally. he watches with a set, unreadable expression as she crawls into the backseat, inviting him in with a look over her shoulder.

boxer!carmy who’s never had sex in a limo before.

boxer!carmy who’s in the mood to change that tonight.

he climbs in behind her, and slams the door shut just in time to muffle the squeal his cub lets out when he issues a bruising smack to her wiggling ass.

they’re in for a hell of a night.

[nyxnightshade7656]

Hooked(Pt2)

I'll be honest. I have no idea where this is all really going. But it's fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy, any ideas/constructive criticism, by all means. Help. Also, prerequisite "I don't speak Cajun or French" and I'm sorry if Google Translate makes you mad, but it's kinda all I got. Writing in accents is hard, despite speaking with a deep southern drawl my whole life XD And if ya wanna be tagged, I guess let me know? I think I'm doing it right.

She sighed and made her way back to her window, which was a little more difficult to find in the dark. Then she just stared up at it for a long moment. She had not thought this through, clearly. From the ground to the window was a five-foot gap. There was nothing to really put her fingers or toes into for grip, curse the perfect maintenance on the building. And she hadn’t thought to just drop a rope, of which there was a disturbing amount to be found, or something similar to be able to climb up. And with her phone dead, she couldn’t exactly ‘phone a friend’ for assistance. She rubbed her hands over her face in annoyance at herself.

Just as she was about to give up and turn back to the forest, it wouldn’t have been the first time sleeping in a tree, a voice called down from above, “Now, Petite, what’chu doin’ out here, huh? Gon’ an’ gotcha self locked out? Good thin’ Ol’ Gambit was out patrollin’. Lemme help ya up.” She looked up, eyes wide, to see Gambit looking out the window above her own. He had a smile on his face and looked like the cat that had gotten the canary. Which was to say, entirely too pleased with himself.

Normally she would deny help, just because she hated to bother other people with her problems, but this time she was willing to make an exception. She just nodded. Gambit smiled again, “Hang tight, be down in a jiff.” Then he was gone from the window and she was left with her thoughts. Thankfully, he didn’t leave her outside for long. Soon enough, he was walking up to her.

“So, how’d ya en’ up ou’ere, huh? We all thought you was hol’up in yer room.” He said with a grin as he motioned back the direction he had come from. No doubt, the front doors. She sighed as she turned to follow him, but not before she glanced up towards her window one last time. Gambit caught her glance easily and followed her gaze. It didn’t take much for him to put two and two together, “Ah, jumped out t’window, hm? Cleaver. T’oh a good teif knows to leave a proper ‘scape route. Or return route in dis case. Why not call’er text ta be let back in?”

She grabbed her phone out of her back pocket, showed him the dark screen, then drew her finger across her throat in the universal sign for ‘dead’. He shook his head, “I see. Well, guess you lucked out wit me bein’ a night owl, huh Petite?” She nodded, just once, and gave him a grateful look. Because he had saved her, even if it was just from a minor inconvenience of having to find a tree to sleep in for the night.

His emotions tasted like cinnamon, vanilla and bourbon on her tongue. Warm, soothing, and with a slight spice. Comfort, care, curiosity, and something light and airy that she couldn’t put a name to. She couldn’t read minds like Xavier or Jean, though she had heard even if she could it would be pointless since Gambit seemed to be able to counteract telepaths. She hadn’t gotten the details on the how, just overheard that he could. But whatever it was that enabled him to escape a telepath’s abilities didn’t seem to help him escape her Empathic abilities, because his emotions were like an open book to her.

They made it to the front doors; that Gambit had left propped open which allowed a warm inviting light spilling onto the stone steps from inside. Not many people realized it, but it wasn’t just living creatures that could have emotions. Wood and stone held residual emotion, particularly strong ones. She could feel the emotions that had seeped into the wood and stone of the mansion over the years of it being occupied. It was yet one more reason why she would hide away or try to escape as much as possible. Her first day in the mansion had nearly driven her to insanity before Xavier had managed to place a temporary shield around her mind to help dull the intensity. Now she was able to create her own mental shields that were almost as strong. Still not enough to be normal, but better.

 “Here ya’re Petite, even left th’ light on for ya.” Gambit teased. The playful teasing tone of his voice perfectly matched the happy-joy-warm-citrusy taste of his emotions. They were so strong that she could feel her own lips pulling into a smile against her will. And of course, he picked up on her smile instantly, “Aww, dat fer me? Should smile more, looks good on ya.” He stepped to the side and, as if he were a prince from a fairy tale, bowed with his arms motioning towards the door, “After you, Chaton.”

She shook her head, unable to stop the smile that seemed almost permanently etched on her face, and stepped inside the mansion. Once inside, she closed her eyes and took a breath. It was something she had to do anytime she walked into a place not one hundred percent her own. She allowed the emotions to flow through her, hateangerfearlovejoypeaceexcitementconcernprotectiveness; but she did not hold on to them. She processed the feelings, acknowledged them, and then released them back into the room. It was the only way she could maintain her sanity.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Ya alrigh’? Ya always quiet, but rarely ever see ya be still as death.” Concern, worry, anxiety; it all tasted like the bitter pith of citrus. She hated it instantly. She shook her head and forced a smile. She had taught herself ASL years ago, about two years after her Siren Song had reared its ugly head and all but forced her to be Mute. But she had learned that nearly no one knew ASL unless they had a loved one that was Mute or Deaf. Which, in turn, relegated her to notebooks or her phone’s talk-to-speech function. Her phone was dead, and she was clearly without a notebook, so that left her with the world’s worst rendition of charades as her only option of communication. So for now, she just went with a simple, unmistakable, hand sign. She held her pinky, ring, and middle fingers up; while her thumb and pointer made a circle. The universal sign for ‘Ok’, followed by pointing to herself.

Gambit chuckled, “One’a dees days, gonna hear that voice a’yers. But alrigh’, you’re good. I hear ya, loud and clear Petite. I’ll walk ya t’yer room.” Before she could physically protest, he placed his hand on her lower back and started to guide her. His emotions made it clear that he didn’t think she couldn’t take care of herself, which she would have taken immediate offense to, but he still felt protective. Curious, and was that affection? She bit her lip, suddenly shy and unsure of herself. She wasn’t sure what to make of those emotions.

“Here ya’re Petite. How’s ‘bout you head on in and get some shuteye, yeah?” He waited until she had opened her door and stepped over the threshold before he leaned into her space, crowding her against the doorway, yet leaving her a clear escape if she so chose, “And Petite? I happen ta be fond of chats. Da kitten ya made Stormy was cute. Still waitin’ fer my lil’ surprise.” He pressed the words against the shell of her ear, making her heartrate kick into triple time. And when he pressed a fleeting; barely there to the point of making her think she might have imaged it, kiss against her jaw, just under her ear, she almost felt like the world as a whole had come to a screeching halt.

He leaned back and gave her a playful wink and casual wave, “Fais de beaux rêves, Petite. Sweet dreams.” And like that, he was gone. And she was left to try and figure out if she had imagined everything that had happened, or if it had been real.

[graciereadshannigram]

hey fam, my spreadsheet is FINALLY up to date so i am FINALLY getting back to the monthly rec lists! here's the cream of the crop from July :)

as a reminder: the ingredients for a five star rating typically (but not always!!) include some combination of a.) believable characterizations of both Hannibal and Will, b.) compelling plot and/or character arcs, and c.) high quality smut.

that being said, my judgment of the aforementioned ingredients is powered almost exclusively by vibes and as such, is incredibly subjective.

you can find past recs below:

February March April May June

and if you have any recs of your own for me, PLEASE SHARE.

without further ado, let's go!

One Way Out of Many by hellotailor

Word Count: 59937 Summary: Hannibal planned to keep Will in the dark about his encephalitis so he could watch that brilliant mind burn itself up and become something new. In a world without daemons, he might have got away with it.An AU incorporating elements of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series, beginning partway through the first season of Hannibal. Due to the existence of daemons, the course of the Chesapeake Ripper case is drastically altered — and so too is the relationship between Hannibal and Will.

Everybody say "Thank you, Serri" because this fic was SO GOOD. I didn't know how I'd feel about the mortal instruments crossover, but it was highly enjoyable.

Long Flights Can Be Torture by ThisIsMyDesignHannibal

Word Count: 6334 Summary: Will and Hannibal are finally flying to somewhere they hope to settle down. Will’s nerves are making him restless…but how better to entertain himself then by toying mercilessly with the man he loves? Will wants to see just how far he can coax Hannibal out from behind that impeccable person-suit, preying on his insatiable attraction, and pushing him as far as he can…just, you know, for fun. Hey, long flights can be torture!

Will flirting with the stewardess?? Secret butt plugs???

certain dark things by multifandom_fanfic_writer

Word Count: 28090 Summary: “Now, you will kneel.”Will opens his mouth and issues his Command. And Hannibal, who has spent forty-four years defying his dynamic, who has never once in his life followed anyone’s commands--falls to his knees.

Blood Will Have Blood by idonthaveyourappetite

Word Count: 13481 Summary: Will and Hannibal are living in a post WotL limbo, a sexless pretense at domesticity full of tension and frustration. Will, unable to get over his guilt and complicity in their new life together, has been holding that part of himself back, but subconsciously hopes that Hannibal will push him, HARD, to take that next step. Hannibal, although increasingly frustrated, has been infuriatingly patient with him. Finally realizing that patience isn’t helping either of them, Hannibal forces Will to confront and accept his desire, giving him exactly what he needs. Their first time is exactly how they both need it to be.

And Cure His Heart by ThisIsMyDesignHannibal

Word Count: 10460 Summary: Will’s irritability and frustration have been mounting since going on the run, and Hannibal has been bearing the brunt of it. Unconsciously craving one particular way Hannibal can help him quiet his whirring mind, it’s time for Will to face up to what he needs, swallow his pride, and ask for it. This time, however, actions speak more eloquently than words ever could. Relinquishing control can be its own form of therapy. Relief is often found in surrender.

Oh my God, Will not knowing how to ask Hannibal for what he needs? And the devastation when Hannibal realizes how he's been neglecting Will? Chefs kiss, perfection.

I'll Take Care of You by sourweather

Word Count: 6339 Summary: After an Acute Stress Reaction and continued trauma at work leave Will feeling desperate for release, Hannibal reveals that he has a very effective technique for Letting Go

Whoops, I like fics where Will is put into subspace as "therapy" SUE ME.

Cuisine Euphonique by thecountessolivia

Word Count: 35335 Summary: Nightmares brought on by a gruesome case lead Will to some unorthodox therapy in the form of a YouTube cooking channel.[Completed]

This fic was absolutely incredible and I desperately wish I could read it for the first time all over again.

Hannibal Lecter and the Great Cat-astrophy of 1812 by slut_arc

Word Count: 1582 Summary: If Will Graham knows one thing about owning dogs (and a cannibal), waking to complete silence is suspicious.Whatever could be distracting Hannibal and the dogs so greatly that they left the house without even eating breakfast?

cat dad Hannibal cat dad Hannibal!!!

the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row by softhan

Word Count: 15355 Summary: Hannibal is having a rough time recovering from his injuries post-fall, and retreats into himself to avoid confrontation with Will while he's still weak and ill. Having to play happy husbands hardly helps

Fake relationship AND vulnerable Hannibal??? it hurts, but it's worth it.

Consenting to Dream by emungere

Word Count: 32188 Summary: A seduction through physical objects. It starts with a scarf loaned to Will on a cold day, but Hannibal, as usual, isn't satisfied with anything small.

Possibly one of the sweetest sugar daddy fics I could imagine reading, oh my god, I love them so much. Will having to get comfortable with allowing someone to care for him? OUCH.

Conduit by mokuyoubi

Word Count: 9288 Summary: No one has ever known Will as well as Hannibal, and if only he could get over his reservations, he knows that they could be amazing together. Hannibal, happy to have Will in whatever capacity he is able, is only too willing to give Will anything he wants, even if it's someone other than himself.Or, Hannibal watches while Will has sex with a woman, and Will gets off on how much Hannibal gets off on it, and voila, sexuality crisis averted!

This was very hot, 10/10.

I Don't Even Like Lana Del Rey by perpetuallycaffeinated

Word Count: 4328 Summary: Will’s thoughts were going in a very inappropriate direction, and he had a growing suspicion that they were being led in that direction by a firm, determined hand. He gave another half-hearted bark of a laugh and threw back the remaining coffee like a shot. “Maybe Zeller and Price changed the wrong number’s ringtone. Jack’s not the one listening to me when I feel like I’m coming unhinged and feeding me the best damn food I’ve ever eaten in my life.”“No,” Hannibal agreed quietly, “he is not.”The tension and low thrum of arousal were making Will speak impulsively. He knew this, but he’d just finished his drink. There was nothing he could use to stop the question, blunt and presumptuous and rude.“So, what, you’re my daddy?”

Dancing with the Beast by proser

Word Count: 86347 Summary: In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events.Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.

FAKE RELATIONSHIP AND IT'S SO GOOD.

Never Conquered, Rarely Came by thisisthefamilybusiness

Word Count: 3242 Summary: Normally, this is the part where Will would pick up his cell phone and leave an anonymous tip on the police crime hotline, tell them there was a cannibalistic serial murderer lurking around the area code of the phone number given in the ad. But not today. Not when his very bones ache and all the raw and bruised places on his skin throb in time with his pulse. Not when exhaustion is slowly eating away at him in a way that has nothing to do with how little he slept last night.Not when these ink-stains on his fingertips and the man behind them are his last chance to get away.Fill for HannibalKink for this prompt: "Will is in an abusive relationship but can't see a way out - he's tried to leave before, but his partner is in law enforcement and always manages to track him down while pretending to be the understanding, forgiving, loving type. One day, Will stumbles across an ad in the Classifieds of the cleverly worded cannibal-seeking-fresh-meat-but-veiled-as-private-cooking-classes type, and decides to answer. Hannibal is pleased when his ad bears fruit, then surprised when his intended dinner apparently knows exactly what he's in for."

this starts off TOUGH, but it's such an interesting concept and it really is a happy ending.

[textsfromthetva]

See, I don’t think Sylvie/Sylki as a whole would be as bad if it didn’t take a shit on Loki’s entire character to make her look better. Like. Since forever in the comics, Loki has been genderfluid and overall very queer, yet in the show they threw that out the window entirely for… the chance to have a straight selfcest ship? What? Why even have a ship to begin with? Not every character needs one. Or just have Amora be the love interest? Since that’s literally who Sylvie was ripping off with her powers and appearance. Also Sylvie doesn’t have enough mischief or drama to be a Loki. Just make her Amora.

in all ways but physical, I am kissing you with tongue right now

they could at least have committed and made her look like a Loki, by which I mean give her black hair. but we all know why they didn't, don't we? because you don't want your straight selfcest ship to look too selfcest-y. that would turn people off.

also, if this is the show's attempt at a "Loki learns to love himself" storyline, metaphorically, it's a very disturbing way to go about it. learning to love yourself does not involve falling in love with a different version of yourself.

all that said, believe it or not, I don't particularly care if you ship Sylki, I just don't feel it as a romantic pairing. I will still throw the occasional bone in your general direction for shits and giggles. but the fact that I started adding the tag "but also pretty anti Sylki you know how it is" to most Sylki posts is pretty telling. I believe I once pointed out the most of my Sylki jokes are just three anti-Sylki jokes in a trenchcoat. that still feels true.

so yeah, I genuinely prefer my fanon characterization of their relationship, because I think it's super funny to have her show no emotional interest in the whole thing whatsoever. she just wants to get laid and then get on with her revenge plot.

[dykedvonte]

An independent Courier would actually hate being in charge or enforcing standards in New Vegas. At least in my mind.

They made Vegas independent but I feel like that playthrough/style so clearly makes it apparent it isn't for them. They are making Vegas a place where people can live freely, like how House genuinely didn't care what people did but without the behind-the-scenes Big Brother surveillance he did. Having every family, faction, and other influence group or person comes to them about alliances or rules would be draining, and boring, one note.

In an independent Vegas, The Courier is also Independent. They like getting rid of lines and borders that impede freedom, they like to help give people the tool but I don't believe they want to be the one to shape it.

[medicinemane]

.

[backspacingmyself]

07/02/2024, 07:49am

Even 8 years later and I still arrive early to Uni lol

[ramonathinks]

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS — gojo, geto, toji, higuruma, nanami, choso, sukuna x reader ft brief kusakabe cameo

Summary: in order to become a full fledge succubus, you must have a meeting with the seven deadly sins in the underworld. but you weren't expecting a meeting like this.

Tags: (18+ MDNI), 8some(?)/gangbang/orgy, dirty talk, breeding, squirting, mention of a lot of kinks, anal play, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs/throat fucking, daddy kink, size kink, riding, cunnilingus, overstimulation, exhibitionism, slight impact play, orgasm control, nipple play, breath play, mutual masturbation, snowballing, praise, dumbification, degradation, dominance/submissiveness, cock warming, pet names, finger sucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling, ball stimulation, doggy, slight mlm scenes between Geto and Gojo ofc, full nelson, mating press, double penetration, anal fingering (female), etc.

tagging: @omgeto @screampied (also thank you bae for making the banner 😘🤞🏾) @hoshigray (thanks for beta reading babe!) @kingkonoha @kanekisfavoritegf

A/N: please for the love of god, don’t ask for no part 2. i think a lot of people underestimate how hard smut writing is and especially since this is an eightsome. THANK UUUU FOR 1.6k followers & for waiting as long as you did for this! (5.4k words)

“Well, there’s one last test you have to complete…” Yaga told you, his face was a bit flushed. “It’s rather — er — well… Actually, I’ll just send you to them so that they can explain it to you.” He did an awkward cough and escorted you to the elevator; where he clicked the illuminating number seven. “Just tell them you’re here for your last succubus test.” He gave you a thumbs up and let the doors close behind him.

“Okay, cause that wasn’t totally weird.” You muttered to yourself, watching the elevator’s number increase. Your heart hammering in your chest. You’d been training for this for the past two years, you couldn’t believe you had one last test.

When the door opened, your eyes widened. There were dark velvet color drapes that decorated the entrance of the room as you stepped off the elevator. Every step you took, you felt a deep sense of uneasiness erupt in the pits of your belly. “Hello?” You finally mustered up some courage to speak. “I’m here for the last part of my succubus exam!” You exclaimed, noticing the dimly lit lights above you creating an ominous yet sexual atmosphere around you. Your thighs trembled. 

“Come in, little lady.” A man’s voice said as a door warped in forth of your body and pushed itself open. “Shoes off.” The man said. Hesitantly, you walked inside and slipped off your shoes. Your eyes roamed across the room as you noticed how wide it was – a velvet carpet floor that was soft between your white colored toes. Bits of fog clouded your vision; you could make out bodies but not faces.

“Oh, she’s quite a looker.” Another voice says around you – wrapping around your body like a snake. 

You heard a snicker, “You’re right, and I could smell just how wet she is; that’s the best part. Can’t wait to eat her up.” You could practically hear this person lick their lips. 

“She doesn’t even know what she’s in for… innocent little slut.” Your knees trembled at that. The way these men were speaking had you hot all over, even the air felt different as you stepped forward.

You swallowed, “I can hear you–”

“Oh, believe me… we know.” This time, when this voice spoke, he raised his hand and the fog split down the middle before completely leaving. Then, you were able to truly see the men who sat in front of you, and your body ran cold.

Seven men, who you were able to recognize from the many lessons you had drilled into your brain from your classes. You gulped as most of them chuckle upon seeing your eyes finally take in just who you were looking at. The legends themselves.

The Seven Deadly Sins: Sukuna Ryomen — Pride, Kento Nanami —  Sloth, Suguru Geto — Gluttony, Satoru Gojo — Lust, Choso Kamo — Wrath, Toji Fushiguro — Greed and Higuruma Hiromi — Envy

You swallowed, “So — um— what’s exactly the final part of my exam? Do I have to…like… pretend this is Jeopardy and answer a bunch of questions?” You heard a small scoff. 

“No. This is more the showing part of your exam.” Sukuna told you, his eyes trained on you. “We need to see you score high marks in satisfaction. Do you understand?” 

You bite your lip; it was difficult understanding what he was saying and not be dripping wet. They were all so beautiful, your nipples prodding out of the thin layer of your dress. You’ve had sex before, but that was way before your genes had kicked it. Twenty-one, inexperienced and horny. Now, you’re older and had basically been celibate for two years (excluding your times of pure masturbation). You were convincing yourself this would be a challenge, and it was one that you were intrigued to take.

So, you slipped your dress down, standing out of it completely and stood stark-naked in front of their prying eyes. 

“Yeah, this is going to be fun.” Toji smirked, walking towards you with his unbuttoned pants low on his hips. “The thing about sex is,” he pressed his palms to your shoulders and lowered you down. “It’s degrading. So, I want you to sit here on your knees and to keep your mouth open while I feed you this dick, got that?” 

You nodded and opened your mouth. He was about eight inches and it looked heavy in the palm; he could barely fit it in one hand, so you wondered if it would fit down your throat. But as he put it in, you already knew your answer. He didn’t move, just stood still. It was something about him standing there with his hardening cock in your mouth that turned you on. “Suck,” he told you, and you did just that, like a good girl. Sucking around his cock with a wet mouth, pulling him out to tap his dick right on your tongue before tonguing at his slit. He hissed and pulled back before shoving it deep into your mouth, and your eyes rolled back.

Bubbling spit drips down to his balls and you squeeze them, taking him out of your mouth for a moment before trailing your tongue up and down his entire dick. Reaching his balls, you take one in your mouth and suck one then you trail your tongue back up to his tip. Spitting on his cock, you stroke him. “Damn, girl; you've been waiting for this, huh?” He grabs your head and focuses you to take the entire thing, his hips harshly thrusting in and out of your mouth.. You barely notice that someone’s behind you until they fondle your breast, and you jump a bit before relaxing. They kiss your shoulders and move up to your neck, making you shutter and moan around Toji’s cock. He groans above and snaps his hips against you, pulling you closer to his pelvis, “Fucking, mouth is killing me.” You suck harder when you feel a hand on your clit.

“Pussy’s so damn wet.” You can hear just how wet you are, and it’s embarrassing. The squelching noises fill your head and over makes your legs open more. “You like sucking his cock that bad? That you’re gettin’ this wet over it? Want my cock buried inside of you? Right here?” He taps your cunt and you groan, nodding your head and rocking your hips against his hand. “Can’t even speak with that mouth full and I can still hear you loud and clear, pretty girl.” 

You’re still sucking Toji’s cock, putting your hands on the floor to truly get more around him, pushing your head even deeper into his hips. Pulling him out of your mouth, you press hot kisses on his tip end then place him back on your tongue, now looking him in the eyes. You could tell he was close with his eyes shut and his head pulled back. He was throbbing on your tongue and his hips were moving faster; they swirled a bit before he shook with a deep orgasm. His hot cum rushing down your throat, and he moaned loud, “Ah–fuck, fuck.. fuck***!” You kept sucking, the fingers on your clit moved in achingly slow circles. And when Toji pulled you off his cock, they finally slipped inside. 

“Now gimme a kiss.” You did, with shaking hands and closed eyes. Sloppy and wet, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth before he pulled back and licked his lips. The fingers inside of your greedy pussy rubbed your insides, and you humped against them. 

“Keep going, please.” Your eyes were closed as you rode their fingers, unsure of who it was but knowing that it felt good. A thumb on your clit and kisses on your back before colder hands lifted your breast, kissing and biting them playfully. “Oooh, please.” 

He sucked, “You like that?” You whimpered out something even you couldn’t understand. Your body is simply a toy at that moment. His tongue moves over each nipple and makes delicate swirls around them. Finally, you open your eyes and see a bundle of long black hair – Suguru Geto, who sucks on your breast with his eyes closed and rubs at your other nipple with another. Arching your back into him more but also seeking comfort in the person behind you, who’s using their fingers to scissor your gooey insides. Briefly looking up, Geto pulls away from your breast and kisses the person behind you, only a small kiss but it makes you wetter regardless. 

“Kiss me again, made her little pussy clench.” He kisses him again and your wetness soaks his hand. 

“Satoru, you sure that was for her, not for you?” Geto chuckles, and you can feel a hardness pressing against your back. Geto moves back down to your breast when someone takes your hand and moves their cock inbetween. 

“Thought you were gonna let us have all the fun, Choso.” Gojo snickers behind you, curling his finger enough to make you moan aloud. You see a good amount of precum and your mouth suddenly feels dry. Taking your hand, you jerk him once and he already looks as if he’s going to cum. 

“Her hands are so soft. I..” He’s stammering. “Wait…Need to cum…” A small whimper leaves his lips and he uncontrollably jerks his hips up; fucking your hand. Applying a small bit of pressure to the tip, his eyes shut and he’s jumping back. Sticky wetness drips to the floor and he stands on shaky legs, his eyes pleading with you. Gojo rubs his fingers between your folds; keeping you in the palm of his hands as you play with the others.

“You wanna cum inside of me, hm?” The moment you utter that sentence he bends over, almost sobbing as he nods his head. Twisting your hand around Choso’s red leaky tip, you lick a trail up his frenulum. Winking at him you pull back and kiss Geto, swirling your tongue around in his mouth before Gojo pulls your face to kiss you. Moans take over the room while you roll your hips and move into Gojo’s fingers and Geto takes the opportunity to slip a nipple in his mouth and you try to ignore the feeling to focus on kissing. But you couldn’t focus, when you heard wet noises surrounding the room and you didn’t need to look up to know what it was; everyone was jerking off and it made your body scorching hot.

“Wait,” You whisper, close to Gojo’s mouth and gently pushing Geto’s head away from your breast, standing on trembling legs and walking to Choso. “Thought you wanted me, baby…” A flip switched, no longer at the whim of men. He’s speechless, just nodding his head and swallowing. 

He mutters a quiet, “I do, please…” He kneels, rubs up and down your legs and you place your foot right on top of his sticky boxers.

“Want me to step on it, baby?” Your voice is low and condescending, a smirk tugging on your lips.

He’s gnawing at the skin on his lips and his face is flushed. “Y-yeah?” Your smirk twists into an evil smile before your foot presses down on his leaking tip and his head leans back. His hips raise but you don’t move an inch. He’s whining and sweet small whimpers leave his lips as his hips thrash against your foot.

“Beg for it.” He can only whine, no words to be spoken as he humps your foot with breathy broken moans filled the room.

“Baby—” He’s looking up at you with dark eyes, his confidence shining through, just a bit. Smiling at him you bend your knees and put his cock between your dominant hand.

“Ready?” You ask and he nods. “Need you to speak up...” Hovering your dripping pussy over his upright cock, almost close to entering, slipping the head between your hot folds is what makes him speak up.

“Ye-yeah.” He gulps and pulls his lips to yours, kissing you. Your eyes roll back a bit and you swear you can see stars, sliding the tip of his cock at your aching slit, you both shiver before you finally let his cock slip inside. He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and his thighs clench under you. You pull back from him and salvia breaks apart, which he lips back up with an awkward smile. Putting weight on your knees, you bounced up and down on him, your tits on full display as they bounced with every move you made. The loud sounds of your pornographic moans filled the room along with the wetness noises of slapping skin; taking more of his cock inside of you each time you bounced down.

Turning your head, you look at Gojo and Geto and like a bee to honey they both rush over; Geto rubbing at your clit with a nipple in his mouth and Gojo kissing your lips, drinking your moans up. 

“I think im going to lose my mind, the way she’s riding me… oh fuck, im not going to last.” Choso hisses underneath you and grips your hips, trying to slow your pace. Slowly, he fucks into you, dragging his cock into your inner walls and feeling your pussy squeeze him in a tight hug. 

“You’re such a good boy Choso.” You lean down to kiss him as Gojo focuses on pressing kisses to your spine. Raising your hips and slamming back down you whisper in his ear, “Don’t you want to fill me up? Don’t you want to cum inside me all night like a good boy? Huh?” After that there was no more talking for a while as you fucked him, rolling your hips in circles and moaning in his ear. Choso’s body was wuthering trying to keep up with you; your pussy splattering out white cream as you kept a dangerous pace before his stomach caved in.

“Be gentle with me, please? Please baby or I’m—” he mouths out your name when he comes, thick ropes as his hips jerk, his eyes rolling back. He’s heaving loudly, digging his fingers into your hips as he comes down from his high as his body trembles. 

You barely get a minute to catch your breath before Geto and Gojo slaps their cock on your cheek with dark smiles. You open your mouth, knowing that both can’t fit inside but hoping that the tips can. Their cocks graze each other and you swallow around them. 

“Slutty mouth, taking both of us.” Geto whispers to himself as he shoves more inside, his hand on your head. You gag and they both groan with pleased looks on their faces, Choso’s cock twitches inside of you. 

“Choso, don’t you think you're being greedy? I wanna fuck her too…” Gojo whines, looking down at your puffy wet eyes as you choke more on their dicks; both of them throbbing on your tongue. Lifting your hips, a small pop is heard and bits of cum leak out of you. Looking down at Choso’s half hard cock you grin, he’s breathing so hard with hooded eyes.

“Can’t wait to play with that ass,” Geto tells you and your eyes widen a bit. Slipping their cocks out of your mouth, you take his balls into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks so tight around him that he pulls you off. 

Gojo is quick to turn your attention to him, he ignores Geto’s annoyed stare as he lifts you up. Turning you to the others, he holds your body for everyone to see. Your entire body was being stared at, pussy on full display — soaking wet with cum and your own slick— his cock hard and standing upright, teasing your clit. He grips your thighs and spreads them a bit wider, small strings from sticky folds breaking off as your pussy spreads. 

He enters you, fills you up and your toes curl. “Fucking tiny, aren’t you baby?” His cock angled perfectly at this position, slick running down your thighs as he fucking directly into you. He’s hitting a deep gooey spot inside of you making wetness come out of you in spurts, your moans making Gojo shiver above you. 

“Hold her still for a minute,” Geto whispers, face directly by your pussy, wetness shined on his face and you felt hot. He must’ve been there for a while. Licking up a long stripe from Gojo’s tight balls to his cock before he nuzzles his face into your cunt, pressing his tongue hard on your pulsing clit — your thighs shake when he pressed a small kiss there. He wraps his tongue against the bud and you jump a bit when Gojo does a small thrust, knocking you loose when he hits that spot again. Geto licks and swirls his tongue around before he moves back. “Just wanted a little taste…” He spits on your pussy and watches it slide down Gojo’s cock. “Looking fucking pretty with his cock inside of you, ya know that?”

You whine, barely able to talk at the sensation coming from your body. “Sloppy pussy making all that noise, hear that?” Geto urges you to listen to the plat wet noises that fill the room and once again, you feel something taking over you. 

“Are you gonna let me come inside too? Huh, my little treasure?” Gojo bites your neck playfully, thrusting deeper, a long moan leaving your mouth. You don’t remember Geto pulling himself to stand but when you feel his cock slap right to your clit, you jolt. Running your slick and his precum. 

“Let me stretch this pretty ass out, you think you can take both?” His face is flushed, his fingers circling your asshole before his thumb plays with it, you clench a bit before relaxing. “Oh? Already been played with.” He says, spitting on his hand and rubbing it in before he gently nudges his tip into your tight hole that’s stretching ready to take him. 

Almost too easily, it slips in and he huffs out a laugh, “So proud of you, I knew you could take it both of them.” He’s stretching you open and your eyes are blown wide.

“Ohhhh!” Leaves your mouth as they both thrust inside of you, both holes clenching and unclenching around them. “Ohh, god.” Messy sounds between the three of you and two bodies come to your sides, both placing your hands on their aching cocks. Your eyes are so heavy you can’t tell who they are , but your hands move up and down regardless with their hips meeting every thrust you give them. An unfamiliar hand on your clit makes your back arch and you can hear laughing above you. “Gojo.” Your voice slurs out, his cock coming close to your cervix and twitching inside of your tightness. 

Rough fingers circle your clit again and you gasp, “Please? Please?” You don’t know what you’re begging for until both Gojo and Geto do hard thrusts inside of you, making your thighs almost squeeze together.

“You like it here? Right here?” You can’t tell who’s speaking but Geto grinds his hips in circles, your bodies so close. The amount of wetness leaking out of you, makes you dizzy and now your tongue lolls out of your mouth before Geto kisses you hungrily massaging his tongue against your own, pulling back and spitting in your mouth, watching your throat swallow. 

“Oh you like being full huh? Fucking stuffed…” Your voice is lost, you can only nod with a fucked out smile on your face. “Really gonna fill you up, sweetheart.” The softness of your insides squeezes them both and you can see Geto’s eyes close and you can imagine that Gojo’s is too when Geto throws his head back and both of their cum gushes into you.

“Fuck— fuck,” They say together, both slipping out a bit, panting. Cum splatters out of both your holes as your pussy and ass flexes, you whimper when they both finally slip. Your hands are still jerking the two other cocks as Gojo holds you tightly before one of the men grip your hair and shoves his cock into your mouth, completely to the hilt and your eyes water. You look up to see Nanami’s blonde locks and his deep brown eyes looking at you, Toji’s rubbing big circles on your clit and now squeezing one nipple with his other hand and Higuruma’s cock pulsing between your other hand. 

“C'mon little love, pretty mouth needs to be soaked again, too.” You moan around him as he uses your throat, pulling you by your hair, groaning when he feels  you swallow around him. Your eyes flutter close as you suck with your, pulling him out so that his cock can sit on your face while you catch your breath. You can feel Gojo hand your body to Toji and you feel empty for a second not realizing that Toji’s leading you to a bed. 

He lays you flat on your back and Nanami moves between your thighs, bending over your body. 

“Some men like to see you touch yourself, I'm one of those men. Show me and I’ll reward you like the good little girl you are.” Nanami whispers right next to your ear. “Then I’ll help you, yeah? Would you like that?” You nod quickly and he moves back, sitting to watch. 

“Play with those pretty tits for daddy.” Your hands move faster than your brain and you reach for them, tugging at your nipples then squeezing them while you look at him. Your body is so overstimulated, you feel like you’re going to come any second. “Don’t come until I say so.” He reaches over to slap your clit and your thrash up, wanting him to touch you more. He slaps your pussy again and a wet stream follows down your ass before pulling again to just watch. 

You circle your nipples, looking at your breasts and tempted to reach down to please yourself. “Look at me… look at me while you touch yourself.” You whine and with eyes clouded with tears, you look at him. “Touch your pussy.” He looks directly at your pussy when it clenches around nothing but the air. 

You circle your clit but you ache for his fingers; they’re long and slender. Pressing deep into the bud with your middle and ring fingers, squishy gushing sounds while you work yourself up. Your fingers slipping inside briefly before you let out a frustrating sigh.

“Poor girl can’t even finger herself correctly, want daddy to show you?” You look up at him and he’s replaced your fingers with his and he’s curling them together, your legs quaking as his fingers fucks more squirt out of you. “Gotta get ‘em really deep to stretch this little cunt open.” He tells you, pushing against your g-spot a little, breathy moans leaving your mouth. Pulling his fingers out, he slips them into your mouth, twirling them around so that you can taste Gojo, Choso and yourself all on your tongue. “Your turn, put these fingers in deep.” He helps you put them in and curl them just like he did; he presses kisses to your lips and looks down at the puddle in the sheets. 

Your eyes roll back and you can’t breathe, he pulls back and looks at you. “You’re so pretty like this, you know that? Prettiest girl ever, just for me to see.” But it wasn’t just for him to see. You were putting on a show for all of them. Touching yourself and spreading your lips as their hungry eyes looked over your body.

He moves between your thighs and with a gentle tap to your clit, you both moan. You bite your lip, “Daddy, I—” He ignores you, pushing himself through your soaked and wet lips. He slides up against your slit and you shiver. He gives you a wide smile and kisses your lips; licking against your tongue, shushing you. Pushing forward, he moves your legs up so that your knees are pressed against your chest, once he enters you, cum leaks into the sheet. 

“This is what you want right? To be mine forever, to be ours forever? You don’t want to use your powers on anyone else… just me— just us?” He asks, pushing his cock deeper watching your face morn into a pleasureful expression. His cock has a curve in it and with the angle he has you in, you can feel every inch as he rams into you; fucking you while his cock fucks down and deep inside of your slutty cunt; his balls hitting the rim of your ass the harder he goes. 

Higuruma comes next to you and puts his cock in your mouth, not moving. Gathering spit in your mouth, you swirl your tongue around the head, teeth grazing him a bit and he seems to like it by the way he grips your hair. Choso stands on the other side of you and pushes your head his way, you let his hips thrust harshly and his balls slapping against your chin before Higuruma grabs your face and jerks off with your eyes on him; which Nanami doesn’t like. 

“Keep your eyes on me.” He grabs your face, his hips slamming against yours. “They can do whatever they want but when I'm inside of you, you keep your eyes on me.” That makes your eyes snap to his and even with the cocks in your face or in your mouth, your eyes are locked on his. His hips lose rhythm, stuffing you and he mutters a ‘fuck’, close to coming and you tighten your pussy to milk him dry. When he finally spills inside you get annoyed when you don’t cum. 

“Tell us you want it. Say how bad you need it.” Nanami says, a smirk engraved on his face.

“I… I want it, I need it.” His hands slide up and down your thighs.  “Please let me cum. It’s too much, I don’t think I can take it.” You needed to cum badly, pushing your hips up to his again. He slips out before slipping back inside and doing that over and over again before he slides in deeper, hitting that special spot inside of you harder than Gojo did and you cream around him. 

“Thank you, so—hah— so much, daddy.” Your pussy is flexing open and close as you stare at him, taking Choso’s cock back into your mouth then switching to Higuruma’s and suckling on the head. 

“Such good manners for a slut, don’t you think boys?” He says and you can hear the smiles on all of them as they agree and you feel giddy, almost satisfied. 

Higuruma moves from your mouth and hurries to your pussy, not saying anything as he spreads the lips before diving inside, his tongue licking up every bit of everyone before him and his nose nudging against your clit, you pushed his head deeper, grabbing his hair and grinding your hips so that he nose can hit every nerve in your clit. “Ohhh, sir, please just keep it right there.” Applying the pressure yourself and wiggling your hips, your legs stretched far and your brain turned to mush. “Gonna come, so hard.” You gasp before your legs cramp up slightly when you push him impossibly deeper. 

“How’s she taste?” Toji asks, looking at your face as you groan and squirm. 

“So fucking sweet…” he meets your eyes. “Better than anything I ever had. Don’t think anything could compare.” He nibbles on your clit. “It tastes better than heaven.” That was your breaking point and what made you break, cumming hard and squealing as you did. 

 Toji doesn’t care about you cumming as he digs his face in and sighs at the taste.

Using his fingers to spread you open. “I see what you mean Higuruma, this fucking sweet nectar on my tongue,” Toji uses more of his nose and your hips grind more, trying to feel more of his nose on your clit. 

Nanami’s cock is in your face and your head is upside down on the bed; head on the edge as you lie back and his cock fills up your throat, your eyes closed. He watches and feels you swallow around him and he mutters out a small, “Fuck, you’re killing me dollface,” when he can actually see himself, the outline of his cock inside of your pretty throat. He runs a finger up and down. He does a small squeeze to your throat as you suck, sloppily. But you wanted a bit more, the taste overwhelming your mouth making you move yourself to the edge of the bed, your nose on his pelvis and the small bush of his pelvic hair tickling your jaw. Even upside down, he could see the dazed look in your eyes, blown and bright as he slowly thrust his hips into your mouth. “There she is, there’s my girl.” 

You can hear Gojo laughing when he says, “She’s so far gone, all she knows is that she loves this. Little brain doesn’t work without a cock filling her up.” Agreements are heard all around and you feel so small, but Nanami rubs your head, scolding them with a stare. 

You can feel the presence of Sukuna before you see him; all touch around you disappearing before he bullies his cock inside of you, saying nothing. He just stares at you, your body humming as he rocks inside of you. “You like that? Gonna make a mess outta you.” He says, your mouth in a permanent ‘o’ shape, his heavy cock slamming down and filling your body up as the breath leaves your throat. “Dirty, filthy slut. Aren’t you, woman? All this cum inside of you and still want more, little pussy begging for it.” You clamp down on him and he hisses, still talking to you as he digs deeper inside of you – he probably has the thickest cock of them all, you can feel it in your throat. “You like being paraded around and fucked like a whore, like you’re nothing, you dirty little girl.” 

You’re nodding, gasping for air and nodding as he speaks down to you, getting wetter as he speaks to you. “Mhm. Yes, Oh– I do.” He has a devilish grin and he moves forward to bite your lip and then kisses you deep. 

“Just needed a real man to dig this pussy out the right way, yeah? To stretch you out. They weren’t doing it like me… c’mon, I know you’re close. So sensitive and wet for me. This fucking pussy’s crying for me,” And he was right, it was. It was weeping and with every stroke, more wetness covered his cock, dropping and splattering underneath you both. He licks the tears that fall from your face and asks you, “You like pleasing me? I can see it all over your face whenever I put my dick inside of you.” More tears fall and you can only nod your head at him, sobbing. 

His pace gets faster and more rough, bending your knees so that they touch your ears and your thighs shake move than they have today, thin milk colored cream mixed with wetness and so much overflowing cum leaks out of you but he doesn’t stop, just continues, slows down and then speeds up again. You can’t keep up with him, just lying there as he fucks you; small soft moans still leaving your lips. He coos at you, kissing your forehead. “Gonna fucking, cum inside my pussy, okay? This is my pussy.” He asserts his dominance over you and your body more than any of the others. With a strained moan, he fills you up; just another load inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and eventually they close. 

“Come back to us baby…” You hear murmurs around you, your body hot and flushed all over, your cunt and tits sore. your throat is scratchy. “I think she passed, right boys?” They chuckle and nod before Geto speaks again, “But, let’s try again to make sure she really gets it.”

Just then, the door opens and you can hear a shocked gasp, everyone looks in that direction. 

“Hey, Kusakbe, wanna train to be a sinner today?” Your legs shook and you huffed, looking up at the man who just entered. He smirked at your vulnerable form.

“Well…What the hell, yeah.” He unbuttoned his pants. “Ready for me, pretty?”

[billymayslesbian]

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

[bunnis-monsters]

A bunny hybrid reader that notices a male fox hybrid following them and watching from a far. Naturally you get nervous cause foxes prey on bunnies! But it turns out he’s very shy and wants to court a cute chubby bunny but doesn’t know how to. Maybe he’s also a soft dom with praise kink? 🤭

NSFW

warning: chasing(slight predator/prey?), breeding, praise kink

You had felt eyes on you since the moment you entered the forest you usually collected herbs from. It wasn’t exactly unusual to feel watched considering many other hybrids called the forest home… but today it felt… different.

You spotted a fleck or red, the shade making your fight or flight kick in.

Instantly you began sprinting, dropping your basket and booking it back to your cabin. You didn’t dare turn around, your poor heart racing as your fluffy bunny ears picked up the sound of running behind you.

“W-wait!”

You cried out in fear at the sound of your pursuer calling for you to stop, shaking your head. “N-no, go away!”

You reached your home, quickly locking your door and peering out the peep hole as your fluffy cotton tail twitched nervously.

There was a fox hybrid outside on your porch, sniffing the air and rubbing his face against every surface he could… was he leaving his scent there for later?

“Please come out… I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”

This happened nearly every day for a month. The fox chased you, nearly running you over before you got into your cottage at the end of the day.

That was until you weren’t fast enough.

The fox had been studying the way you move, when you took the shortest of breaks to catch your breath, and when you quickened your pace again to get away. Bunnies were masters at escaping… but foxes were very smart.

You knew something was different this time. Call it instinct, call it just coincidence, but you noticed that he wasn’t running after you as fast as usual… and his eyes were following your every movement the entire time.

Like he already knew he was going to catch you… it was just a matter of time.

You were too slow as you turned a corner, slipping on some pine straw and crashing to the ground. In seconds he was on top of you, and all you could do was close your eyes and hoped he killed you quickly…

But his jaws never closed around your neck. After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes to see him butting his head against you affectionately, his tail swaying behind him.

His eyes were half lidded, staring down at you with infatuation and adoration.

“I’ve finally got you, little bunny.”

He was absolutely glued to your side now, clinging tightly to you as you hesitantly made your way home. The fox seemed absolutely smitten, sometimes softly nipping at your fluffy ears or neck, startling you.

“So pretty… you smell so, so good…”

After dinner he curled up with you, his fluffy tail swaying as he kept rubbing his scent on your neck. Could he tell that you were close to your heat? Is that why he had become interested in you?

“I’ve wanted you for so long… you’re cute and just the softest thing I’ve ever seen… but it’s hard approaching a bunny when you’re a fox.”

Your cheeks heated up as he pressed against you, your cotton tail wagging furiously when his bulge rubbed against your clothed cunt.

It wasn’t long until your next heat cycle, and it was clear that he knew it too. He continued to purr as he grabbed hold of your hips, guiding your bunny cunt over his bulge slowly.

When you let out a stifled whine, he smiled, giving your soft bunny ear a nibble. “Mmm, that’s a good girl. You’re so soft and pretty, let me take care of you, sweetheart…”

Within seconds he had your panties off, his fingers stretching your whole. As they pumped in and out of you, his lips met yours in a needy kiss.

His tongue explores your mouth, entangling with yours. It was hard to think with all these new sensations…

“Come on, bunny… lemme see that pretty pussy of yours, hmm?”

You shyly opened your legs, and he moved to position his cock at your entrance. At this point you were whining and bucking your hips, ready to be mated.

It was reassuring when he held onto your hand as his cock sunk into your fat bunny cunt, his face burying itself into your neck.

“F-fuck, so good… god…”

His grip on your hips tightened, the soft flesh warm against his hand. He’d never had something so soft and cute underneath him… you were amazing…

It felt too good, his cock was rubbing and touching all of the best spots, making your clit throb. As soon as he noticed, he moved his hand to rub circles around your clit while he picked up speed.

As he fucked into you, whining into your neck, he said the cutest things.

“I love you… love you so much, so fucking pretty…” he blubbered, his teeth grazing against your neck before he bit you.

“G-gonna… gonna knock you up, okay? Gonna be my cute little mate…”

Those words had your walls fluttering around him, your toes curling as the two of you came together.

After coming down from your respective highs, he became a bit shy again, giving your cheek a tentative lick. “You did well, pretty girl…”

You simply butted your head against him affectionately, returning his soft purrs.

Now, you had a mate, a sweet one at that. You didn’t have to worry about other bunnies bothering you when a fox called your cottage home.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.