#this is the only thing I can focus on for a while

[smileysuh]

truth serum

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.

tw/cw. Seungcheol gets truth-serumed and a little beat up, unprotected sex, dirty talk, dominant Seungcheol, power dynamics, praise, one hint of degradation that’s quickly squashed, breast/nipple play, fingering, oral, foreplay in the kitchen, bdsm subthemes, spanking as a punishment, pain kink, multiple reader orgasms, creampie/fullness kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey. (his) angel eyes.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.6k

🍭 aus. Secret agent au, handler reader, coworker au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you for being patient with me this month on my svt posting for June! My birthday is on the 25th and your smiley has been busy- so grateful I could get this out, even without a teaser post :) I don't know anything about actual secret agents, but this was a fun fanfic idea I had and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did :)

“I’m just going to go talk to her.”

You hate how nonchalant Seungcheol sounds, hate how easily he can be swayed by pretty women, even while out on jobs. It’s your responsibility to keep him in check, the little angel on his shoulder, and in his ear. “Don’t do it,” you warn him.

“Her husband’s the target, from what I’ve seen, she’s harmless,” the agent counters.

“How easily swayed you are by pretty women, and need I remind you this isn’t the first time you’ve let a person of interest’s wife become your focus.”

“Careful, Honey, for a moment there it sounded like you were jealous.”

You’re watching Seungcheol through the casino’s live footage, a stream you’d easily hacked for the operation at hand. He’s leaning against the bar, all suave in dress pants and a white button-up that he’s left open just enough to show his prominent chest-

“That’s your third drink,” you note, changing the topic, “don’t let it cloud your judgment, Angel Eyes.” 

“We both know I can hold my liquor,” Seungcheol insists, raising his glass and sending a wink toward the camera before he downs the Old Fashioned. “I’m just going to go talk to her, she could give good intel.”

You let out a deep sigh. Sometimes, being Seungcheol’s handler can be a pain in the ass. Does he ever listen to you? Not usually. Does he get the job done, though? Most of the time.

“Trust me,” Seungcheol says, voice lowering. “I’m not going to do what you think I’m going to do.”

You roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair while you scan the screens in front of you. “Seduce her James Bond style and compromise this entire thing?”

“Maybe only half of that.”

God, he’s such a womanizer, but with a face like his, and the perks that come with his job, he can afford to be. 

“If this goes sideways, don’t expect me to bail you out of it.” you warn him.

“Honey, bailing me out is your job.”

You hate it when Seungcheol goes out of your visuals, and entering a hotel room with a target’s wife was not on the itinerary tonight. For the first ten minutes, you’d sat anxiously, listening in on his smooth-talking, when the woman had suggested they take things to the bedroom, part of you had wondered if you should call this whole thing off and let Seungcheol do what he always does: fuck the hot wife and sort things out later.

But when you hear a male voice, and a startled, “Who is this?” from Seungcheol, you’re glad you’d stayed anxiously glued to your computer.

A faint, “Friend of my husband,” said in a nonchalant female tone, sets you off immediately, and you’re grabbing your phone to get backup support before you can even think. 

You try to take deep breaths while you listen to what sounds like a fight taking place on Seungcheol’s end, and suddenly, the wire goes dead. Now, there are no sounds, only the racing of your own heart and the blood rushing through you.

“What’s going on?” Your supervisor's voice makes you jump, and you turn to see Jeonghan standing there with Hansol, another handler. 

“Cheol made a move on his target’s wife, went back to her room, but the wife brought friends. The wire is dead.”

“Fuck,” Jeonghan groans, “This is the third time this has happened to him.”

“I tried reminding him of that,” you say, your voice raising with anxiety.

Hansol offers you a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. He takes care of an agent named Seungkwan, and while Seungkwan gets into his own messes, he’s not the type to go after married women in the middle of a job. 

Jeonghan’s leaning over your computer now, and he brings up the map tracker you have on Seungcheol. “I’m sending this location to another agent we have in the area,” he tells you, quickly taking the reigns of the fuck up that’s just happened.

“It’s Wonwoo, isn’t it?” you sigh. “It’s always Wonwoo cleaning up Seungcheol’s messes.”

“Yes, it’s Wonwoo,” Jeonghan admits. “We made sure he’d be in the wings tonight in case something like this happened.”

“God, this isn’t good-” you groan.

“No,” Jeonghan responds, “It’s not. After tonight I’ll have to have a serious talk with Seungcheol, and a serious talk with you about reassignment if we decide Seungcheol is a liability.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. 

When you’d taken this job as a handler, it hadn’t been a babysitting gig. You’d signed on to work with Seungcheol because he was supposed to be one of the best agents… supposed to be. There’d been a time, three months ago, when he’d completed a job with flying colors. The two of you had celebrated at a hotel in Paris after the success, and after two bottles of champagne, you’d actually thought you were starting to get to know the guy. But whatever inklings of a gentleman you’d seen that night had disappeared soon after, and things have been up in the air ever since. His man whoring ways are at an all-time high, and his judgment has been questionable, to say the least. Now he’s gone and gotten himself captured, and you can’t help but fear the worst.

After a harrowing two hours, you find yourself in the med section of the agency compound. Wonwoo is stationed outside of Seungcheol’s room, and he stands straighter as you approach. “Hey, Honey,” he says, using your codename even though there’s really no reason for it right now.

“Wonwoo- how is he?” You anxiously look toward the door Wonwoo is guarding with his body.

Although you’d been connected to the whole ‘rescue Seungcheol operation,’ you’re still buzzing with anxiety. It’s unexplainable, and definitely bordering on unacceptable given the line of work you’re in, but damn it, you can’t help but care for the man you handle every day.

“Jeonghan’s with him right now,” Wonwoo responds smoothly.

Your heart thunders even louder in your ribcage. Jeonghan had mentioned Seungcheol being a liability- is he getting fired right now?

Part of you aches to be with him, to defend his stupid behaviour- but you know it’s not your place, besides, what would you even say? You’d told Seungcheol not to go after the target’s wife, and he’d done it anyway, which shows a lack of regard for handler instructions.

Seungcheol has become a liability, and you hate that things have come to this.  

“What do you think is going to happen?” you ask.

Wonwoo shrugs. “That’s above my paygrade.”

He’s awfully stoic, even for a spy, and while it can be intriguing at times, right now, his deflections only frustrate you more.

You let out a sigh. “What if I asked you to guess what’s going to happen?”

Wonwoo looks at you for a moment. “I’d guess Seungcheol will be put on a break.”

“A break,” you repeat. “Like… a permanent one?”

The spy can only shrug again, a nonchalant motion that’s way too disinterested for your liking.

Jeonghan’s been trying to talk you into working as Wonwoo’s handler for a while now, and although you know Wonwoo would be much less of a hassle than Seungcheol, you can’t bare to tear yourself away from the spy whose messes you’ve been helping clean up for over a year. 

Despite Seungcheol’s massive ego, and his magnetic attraction toward trouble, there’s something about him that makes you want to care for him. Sure, he never listens, especially when you give him advice about women, but Seungcheol has a certain something about him- something that you won’t give up easily.

Before you can talk further with Wonwoo, the med room door opens and Jeonghan steps out. He lets out a deep sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hold your breath, waiting for your boss to give you instructions.

“This is a shit show,” Jeonghan says finally. 

Neither you nor Wonwoo verbally agree with him, but brief eyecontact between the two of you makes it known what you’re both thinking.

Jeonghan addresses you next. “I’m guessing you want to go in there and talk to him.”

You can only nod.

“Look, it might not be the best idea, but fuck it.” Jeonghan uncrosses his arms, looking at you with a steady expression. “They gave Seungcheol some kind of truth serum. I don’t know how long it will be in effect, but I do know he’s vulnerable right now. I probably shouldn’t let you in there- but… I’m just going to walk down the hall to get a coffee, and if you happen to slip through the door then so be it. I didn’t see anything, and since Wonwoo is coming with me, he didn’t either.”

You stare in shock for a moment, unsure what to say. There’s nothing to be said, and when Jeonghan dispurses, Wonwoo is quick to follow.

You turn to the door, and after a deep breath, you slip inside the med room.

Seungcheol is lying in a hospital bed. His lip is battered and there’s a blossoming purple bruise around his left brow, but other than that, he looks remarkably well.

“Honey?” He sits up when you enter, eyes widening in shock.

“Cheol-” Your voice cracks as you take the seat next to the bed, and while part of you wants to reach for his hand, you hold yourself back.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, and those are two words you’ve never heard from him before. “You were right… about the wife.”

“That’s not important right now,” you sigh. 

“It is. You’re my handler, and I didn’t listen to you, and that was wrong. If I had listened, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess.”

You study him. You know he’s vulnerable, Jeonghan said as much, and with a truth serum impeding his ability to lie or evade questions, you want to be careful- but you also want answers, answers that you can only truly get right now.

“Why’d you do it?” you ask finally. “This time, and all the other times. You always go after the women, and I thought it was because you found it easy- seduction is what you’re good at, but- I don’t understand how you don’t see how dangerous it is.” 

“Honey-”

“They’re thinking about reassigning me to Wonwoo, and before that happens, I just need to know why, Cheol. When you have the potential to be the best agent in this company, why are you always so ready to jump ship and fuck any rich married woman even though you know it will fuck everything up?”

“They can’t reassign you to Wonwoo!” Seungcheol sits up abruptly, and the heart rate monitor next to him beeps a sign of warning at his increasing pulse.

“They can do whatever they want, you should be worried about your own job. You don’t even listen to me as your handler half the time, maybe you should be with someone you actually respect.” 

“I respect you,” Seungcheol blurts out.

“It doesn’t feel like you do.”

“I do,” he insists. “I-” Seungcheol’s voice cracks. “I get with women to distract myself.”

“Distractions in this line of work can be fatal.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snaps, making you go silent. “Maybe I have a death wish.”

“Cheol-”

“Stop calling me Cheol.”

“Stop calling me Honey.”

“No.”

You glare at him, anger bubbling and inspiring you to dive deeper into your questioning, despite the fact that you know this isn’t a morally good idea. “Why do you need a distraction?”

“Because you’re a distraction. Your voice in my ear- it distracts me.”

“Maybe reassignment is a good idea.”

“You’re not being reassigned.” Seungcheol’s voice is practically a growl, and you’ve never seen this side of him.

“Why not?”

His expression breaks. “Because I need you.”

“You clearly don’t.”

“I do,” he insists. “I know I’m not good at showing it- but I do, I need you.”

 “Cheol-”

“Honey.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because-” Seungcheol lets out a sigh, and he punches at the hospital bed. “Look, I’m scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Scared of what?”

“Of falling for you.”

“Huh?” Now you’re confused. You’re staring at this lady killer agent, the sexiest man you’ve ever met, and you can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “But- all the women you go after-”

“Distractions from you, from the voice in my head.” Seungcheol swallows thickly. “That night in Paris…”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you hold your breath for the next words about to leave him.

“That night- fuck, I’ve never met someone like you before. I’ve never felt-” he bites at his lip, and you wince, knowing it must hurt to put pressure on the wound there. “I got with those other women to try to convince myself that I didn’t need you. I didn’t need your guidance, I didn’t need your care, I didn’t need you- but… I do need you.” Seungcheol meets your gaze. “I’ve needed you more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and it scares me.”

Aside from the heart rate monitor beeping through the room, you swear you could hear a pin drop as you stare at Seungcheol, trying to register everything he’s just said.

“I-”

“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” Seungcheol says. “How do you feel about me?” 

“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I never understood why I stayed working with you after everything, but… maybe I understand now. Maybe I need you too.”

“Maybe?” Seungcheol flashes you a sexy smirk, and it makes you look away, hating how he makes you feel, hating how inappropriate this whole thing is.

“I’m definitely going to have to be reassigned now,” you tell him.

“What? Why?”

“You know why. This,” you point between the two of you, “this has been the liability the whole time. We’re the liability, Cheol.”

He sits and thinks about it for a moment. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You let out a laugh. 

“Just… don’t work with Wonwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You can’t help but laugh at the request.

“Because I think he’s into you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first,” you tease, standing up so you can sit on the bed, wanting to be closer to Seungcheol. “Besides,” you pinch at his chin, inspecting the wounds on his face, “Wonwoo might actually listen to me.”

“Honey,” Seungcheol slaps your hand away, instead grabbing at the back of your neck to bring your lips dangerously close to his, “don’t test me right now.” 

“Or what?”

He lets out a shaky breath, his gaze dipping down to your lips. “Jeonghan’s putting me on a two-week mental health break or some shit, this isn’t even a question of ‘or what’ anymore. While I’m on leave, I’m going to fuck you stupid. I’m going to make it so you can’t even leave the fucking bed. I’m going to show you that I’m not the kind of man who receives instructions, I give them. Think you can handle it?”

God, your core is throbbing from his words alone, and you can’t muster up any for yourself. You can only nod, staring at the beautiful, bruised, stubborn man in front of you.

“You should get out of here before I bend you over this fucking bed and get us both fired.” Seungcheol releases you, leaning back to put distance between your lips. 

“Do you think you’ll be released tonight?” you ask, voice quiet.

“Are you that eager to see what I’m made of, honey?” Seungcheol lets out a laugh.

“Maybe.”

“Yes, I think I’ll be out of here soon, after this stupid serum wears off. You know, this whole interrogating me while I’m vulnerable thing isn’t going to go unpunished.”

“I hope you do your worst,” you challenge him.

The agent scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re trouble.”

“Hypocrite,” you grin, standing and heading to the door. “Call me when you’re out, then you can take me home.”

You’re waiting by Seungcheol’s car in the parking garage when he comes out of the elevator. He’s dressed in black dress pants and the same white button-up he’d been wearing hours earlier. The collar is speckled with blood, the buttons undone to reveal his broad chest- his suit jacket is held in a fist, and he’s never looked sexier.

He doesn’t say anything as he approaches, closing the distance between the two of you. His hand finds your cheek, and his eyes stare into your own, your lips only inches apart. Then, he’s kissing you for the first time, a desperate, needy kiss that sets your entire body on fire.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your chest flush to his own. Your mouth opens instinctively, accepting the tongue that strokes by your teeth.

Seungcheol’s hand moves down to your ass, and he squeezes you roughly, pushing you back against the black jeep wrangler he’s been driving recently. The motion has you moaning against his lips, and Seungcheol breaks the kiss with a grin. His forehead rests against your own, and you both struggle to catch your breath.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” he tells you.

“Me too,” you admit, swallowing thickly. “So… your place?”

“My place,” he confirms, reaching behind you to open the door to his car. He grabs your hand to help you up into the tanked-out jeep, then gently shuts the door behind you.

Your heart is racing. You can’t believe you’re actually doing this. 

A couple of hours ago, you’d feared the worst, and now, you desperately need good, dirty, wet sex with Seungcheol to take your mind off the anxiety that’s still coursing through you.

“So,” you clear your throat as he pulls out of the parking garage, “did you talk to Jeonghan?”

Seungcheol laughs, reaching to hold your hand while he drives. “Yes, I talked to Jeonghan.”

“Did you mention me?”

“I mentioned you a lot. Mentioned you the first time he came in to talk. He asked the same kinds of questions you did, turns out you’re the only one who was completely oblivious to the way I felt about you.”

“Well… I mean… you’re the agent, not me. Figuring out secrets is your job, I just do handler stuff.” Your skin heats at the idea that others saw his affection for you, but you’d been so blind.

“He agrees that this thing between us, whatever it is, it’s the liability, not either of us alone. He’s putting me on rest, like I said, and when you’re up for it, he’d like to reassign you to some new hire, this wizz kid named Dino or something.”

Although you know reassignment is the best thing in this situation, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Can you really trust someone else to be Seungcheol’s handler? God, you’re feeling downright territorial of this man already-

“Yeah, I’m not too happy about it either,” Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his thumb along your hand. “Some new kid getting you in his ear- he better not fall in love with you.”

“Did you fall in love with me?” you ask.

“Truth serum has worn off, honey,” Seungcheol grins, grinning and bringing your hand to his lips. “But yes, as cliche and stupid as it sounds, I did. And don’t worry, you don’t have to say it back, I know you were all hot and bothered by me too.”

You scoff loudly.

“What was it you said earlier? I ‘find seduction easy’? Don’t pretend we’re not in the same boat here, honey.” 

“God, I hate you.” You try to tear your hand away from him but he’s unrelenting.

“Liar. You love me. Love me so much you’re going to let me rearrange your guts.”

“Don’t be so vulgar,” you chastise him.

Seungcheol casts you a sideways glance. “You’re not my handler anymore, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Your pussy throbs at his words. The dynamic between the two of you has always been a push-pull. You were supposed to be the one giving orders, but it never felt… correct. You’d bet your life that soon, when Seungcheol has you pressed to his bed, whispering all sorts of dirty commands in your ear- well, you have no doubts that will feel more natural. 

“As dominant as you like to pretend you are as a handler, I think we both know you’d rather be the submissive,” Seungcheol points out. “I can’t wait to see how good you’ll be for me.”

“Cheol-”

“Look at you, honey, a little dirty talk and you’re already a blabbering mess. Can’t find the words, can you?”

“Fuck.”

“You’re adorable,” he grins, shaking his head a little. “You’ll be good for me, I know you will be.”

You’re kissing Cheol the moment you get into his penthouse- or… is he kissing you? It’s hard to tell who moved first, all you know is that one thing leads to another and suddenly he’s hoisting you onto a kitchen counter, his hands already unbuttoning your pants.

You break your heated kiss to take a breath, looking up at the ceiling while he quickly attaches his lips to your neck. “Cheol- this is going a bit fast.”

“Is it?” He tugs your pants down, grinning against your throat. “Do you want me to slow down?”

His thumb finds your clit through your panties and you let out a whimper, clinging onto his strong shoulders.

You can’t even think right now, especially not when he begins to draw small circles against your sensitive bud, pulling away from you so he can watch your face. You open your eyes to look at him, loving the intensity in his expression.

“Tell me to slow down,” he says.

You take a breath, trying to process his words. They’d sounded like a command, so, begrudgingly, you whisper, “Slow down.”

“Too bad, I don’t listen to what you tell me to do, remember?” 

He’s such a shit-

A shit that gets onto his knees to immediately burry his face between your thighs, tugging your panties to the side roughly so his tongue can make direct contact with your already throbbing pussy.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper loudly, threading your fingers through his silky dark hair, your legs already shaking around his head.

“Been thinking about what you’d taste like,” Seungcheol muses, pressing a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh. “Knew your pussy would be perfect for me.”

God, his words are getting to you, your mind completely blank of a comeback as Seungcheol dives back into his task, his lips wrapping harshly around your clit.

All you can do is gasp and whine for him, writhing on his kitchen counter while he works you closer and closer to an orgasm with his tongue alone.

When he pulls away to drag two fingers up your slit, your body tenses in anticipation.

“Relax,” Seungcheol chuckles, looking up at you with that handsome grin of his, “It’s only me, honey. You’re comfortable with me…” he pushes his digits into your core, cocking a brow, “right?”

“Yes, fuck-”

“Yes, what?” He crooks his fingers, hitting your gspot and making you cry out.

“Yes, I’m comfortable with you!” you belt out, falling back onto the table so you don’t have to hold yourself up anymore. You want to feel everything he’s giving you- want him to have your full focus.

“Good girl. I think you deserve a reward for admitting that, don’t you?” 

You can feel Seungcheol’s breath on your clit while he pumps his fingers, abusing the sweet spot that already has you close to the edge.

“Yeah, yes- I deserve a reward-”

Seungcheol pulls away abruptly, landing a slap to your pussy that has you squealing, your thighs closing around his hand. Your eyes snap open and you stare at him in shock.

“That sounded like a command, honey,” Seungcheol says, prying your legs apart. “Thought we agreed I’d be in charge tonight, and you know I hate being told what to do.”

“I-” you swallow thickly. “Please? Please let me cum?”

“Let you cum?” he taunts, thumb finding your clit but not applying nearly enough pressure.

“Please… make me cum?” you suggest, wanting - more than anything - to say the right thing for him.

“Because you asked so nicely.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink, and then his fingers are slipping into your wet core again, picking up where he left off. His lips return to your clit, which is practically buzzing from the slap, and before you even know it, he has you at the edge.

“Please make me cum,” you whimper desperately. “Fuck, I’m so close- please make me cum, I’ve tried to be a good girl for you- please-”

He hums a sound of confirmation, and the buzzing vibration on your clit is enough to get you there. Your pussy clamps down hard on his fingers, your back arching as waves of pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl against his broad shoulders, sounds leaving you uncensored as you fill his apartment with cries of relief.

You’re throbbing, your pussy practically dripping at this point, but Seungcheol doesn’t let up. Even when you tug on his hair to try to pull him away, he refuses to move. He finger fucks you and sucks on your clit, ignoring the way your thighs close around him, working you through your high all the way until the end.

Seungcheol finally relents when your pussy stops contracting around him, and you let out a massive sigh when he pulls away. You can feel his eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him yet, not when you’re still feeling the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm.

You feel him begin to unbutton your shirt and his lips find the swell of your breasts as soon as it’s open. He’s soft in his kisses, gentle, tender even. “Have you come back down to earth yet, honey?” he asks, nuzzling up to your throat.

“Yeah- that was just, really good,” you let out a small laugh, threading your fingers through his hair to keep him tucked to your chest.

“That was just the appetizer, you still haven’t had the main course.”

“God, you’re so-”

“So what?” he teases. “Handsome? Charming? Lovable?”

“Sure of yourself,” you breathe.

“Let me show you something,” he prompts, reaching for your hand. He pulls away from your chest to stand up straight again, guiding your fingers to the front of his pants. His cock is straining against the fabric, and you open your eyes to see Seungcheol grinning when you gasp at how large he is. “When a man has a cock like mine, he can afford to be sure of himself.”

You shiver at his words, and it makes Seungcheol laugh. “Come on, let me take you to bed.”

He hauls you up before throwing you over his shoulder, landing a gentle spank on your ass. 

“Remember when I told you I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t even be able to leave the bed?” Seungcheol prompts as he tosses you onto the mattress. “You better get comfy, honey.”

“I think…” you feel your daring side beginning to surface, eyes dipping to watch Seungcheol’s skilled fingers unbuttoning his dress shirt, “I think I also remember something about you telling me my truth serum interrogation wouldn’t go unpunished.”

The agent pauses, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re cute, honey.”

“Yeah?” You reach behind your body, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slip to the wayside. “How so?”

Seungcheol’s pupils dilate, his eyes becoming dark, lustful pools. 

He doesn’t bother to answer your question, shrugging his shirt off before leaning over you, his hands pressing into the bed to box you in while his lips find yours. It’s a needy kiss, his tongue gliding out to meet your own, but you don’t mind at all.

You cup his face, moaning against him, fingers teasing over his strong shoulders.

Seungcheol is built, even for an agent. Certain men who work with you have leaner physiques, and Seungcheol is not one of them. He’s all big and broad, with lines of muscle that you could trace for hours if given the chance.

His lips begin to trail down to your throat, and you let out a whimper of anticipation when his breath fans across your pebbled nipples.

However, when he gets to your breasts, Seungcheol avoids sucking on the most sensitive spots. He looks up at you, grinning. “I think it’s time for that punishment now.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help the excitement that bubbles through you.

“I want you on your knees, ass up, and take off your panties while you’re at it.”

You know what’s coming when you follow through with the command. The cool air in the room feels nice on your newly exposed, hot core, and you make a show of everything, arching your back.

You can hear Seungcheol let out a deep breath, his hands ghosting over your ass.

“If this hurts too much, let me know.”

“Do your worst,” you counter, wiggling your hips and resting your face against the bed sheets, exhaling deeply in preparation.

You expect a harsh smack, but instead, Seungcheol presses a soft kiss to your right cheek. “I’m punishing you because you took advantage, you know that, right?”

“Uh huh, part of me knew I was being bad interrogating you while you were truth-serumed, but part of me needed to know what your answers would be.”

“Between us, I’m glad you asked the questions you did, or you might not be in my bed right now.”

“I’m glad too,” you confess. “Now, come on Angel Eyes, punish me.”

“I love a woman who takes what she deserves with grace.”

“After this, I deserve your cock.”

“Do you now?” Seungcheol lets out an amused chuckle, grabbing your ass with both hands and squeezing. 

“Maybe you deserve my pussy,” you muse thoughtfully.

“Now that’s something I can definitely get behind,” he agrees. “Count these out for me, honey, I’ll give you ten.”

The first smack makes you recoil in surprise, the sound flooding your senses before the sharp pain that blossoms across your skin.

“One,” you announce, balling your hands into the bed sheets.

“How did that feel?” he asks, gently smoothing his palm across the still-burning flesh.

“Good.”

The next hit is a little harder and it makes you whimper,  but you do your best to stay steady, unmoving, ready to take what you deserve. “Two.”

Three and four come on your other cheek, and you’re thankful for the reprieve, but smack number five returns to the first side he’d battered, and it stings even more now. However, it’s a pleasantly hot sensation, and your core throbs knowing you’re halfway through your punishment, all the more close to your reward.

“You look like you’re enjoying this too much,” Seungcheol muses, groping your ass again, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

“Maybe I am,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder at the agent. 

He grins down at you, lifting a hand- your body flinches involuntarily, and Seungcheol’s smile widens. “Getting sensitive already, huh?”

“Yes,” you admit.

The next slap lands on your pussy, something you hadn’t been expecting, and a squeal of delight erupts out of you at the sensation on your clit.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Seungcheol asks.

“Uh huh,” you nod, clenching the bed sheets even tighter.

“How's your clit feeling after one orgasm?” he prompts, thumb finding the sensitive bud and rubbing it in small circles.

“Feels so good,” you whimper.

“You’re practically dripping, honey, didn’t take you for a pain slut.”

“Be nice,” you chastise him.

“Oh?” 

Another smack lands on your ass and you dutifully call out “Six.” 

“You don’t like being called a little pain slut?” he asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “Please call me nice things.”

“Okay, honey, I can do that,” he concedes, and the next spank isn’t as hard as the last. “You’re being so good for me. We’re almost done.”

“Can’t wait for you to fuck me, I’ve been waiting so long-”

“We’ll get there,” Seungcheol promises, leaning down to press a kiss to your lower back. When he pulls away, number “Eight” comes quickly thereafter.

Your skin is buzzing with anticipation now, and you’re nearly writhing against the bed, but you do your best to be as still as possible while Seungcheol completes this punishment focused foreplay.

After smack number nine, you hear Seungcheol undo his belt, and it takes everything inside of you not to turn around and get a good look at his cock.

He smacks his length gently against your ass, and you let out a small, “Ten?”

He laughs. “No, honey, this is ten.”

The sound of the slap echoes through his room, the hardest of them all so far, and you release a strangled cry, your ass on fire from where he’d hit you.

“That was the pain, now here’s the pleasure.” He rubs his cock through your wet folds, and slips the tip inside, stretching you out wonderfully. The sensation distracts from your sore bum, and your whimper becomes a moan as he drives deeper and deeper into you. “Tell me you like it.”

“I love it,” you blurt, already pushing back toward him in an effort to feel everything.

You’re not sure how big he is, only that he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, but after the tension of your punishment, and the orgasm before that, your pussy greedily swallows up everything he has to give until he’s flush to your still stinging ass.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol cusses, gently grabbing at your hips. “How’s that feel?”

“I feel so full,” you tell him, pussy fluttering around his cock.

“I’ll make you feel fuller,” he promises.

“Yeah?”

“You’re on birth control?”

“Uh huh.”

“Then I’ll definitely fill you up, mark this pussy as all mine, are you okay with that?”

“More than okay with it,” you moan. 

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol praises you, beginning to thrust.

“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the feeling of his cock dragging along your inner walls. 

Your eyes are closed, your focus entirely on Seungcheol as he starts to fuck you, rougher and rougher until his balls are slapping against your clit with each motion.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he tells you, grip tightening on your hips. “It’s like you were made for me, honey.”

The idea causes a visceral reaction, your entire body thrumming with pleasure. You can only moan in response, beginning to move back so you can meet each one of his thrusts.

“And this ass-” One of Seungcheol’s hands moves to cup your sensitive flesh, making you groan even louder. “Fucking perfect. Rub your clit for me, want you to cum again.”

Your hand is shaky as you bring it between your legs, finding your sensitive clit. Your core clenches desperately around Seungcheol and he lets out a deep moan of appreciation.

“That’s my good girl, being so good for me. So good at taking orders.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. It’s as if things were always meant to be this way, you were meant to let him be in control, not the other way around. This feels so much more natural than you telling him what to do ever did.

“Don’t laugh,” Seungcheol chastises you, fucking you even harder. “I’m trying to be nice to you, like you wanted.”

“I just-” you groan when his cock slams into your gspot. “It was never supposed to be me telling you what to do.”

“I’m glad we agree on something,” Seungcheol muses, his motions slowing ever so slightly. “Fuck this, I want to see you.”

He pulls out of your pussy, flipping you onto your back. The contact of the bed against your ass makes you groan, but the sight of Seungcheol’s perfect body looming over you has you distracted less than a moment later.

His cock is big… cut, curving slightly to the left, with a prominent vein that you want to trace with your tongue-

He presses the head of his length to your pussy, easing himself into you while he positions you in missionary. When he’s fully inside of you again, he meets your gaze, then he looks down at your lips.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers before pressing his mouth to yours.

You grab at his strong shoulders, getting lost in the kiss as he begins to fuck you again, the whole bed shaking with the power of his thrusts.

You’ve never made sounds like this in bed before. You’re moaning like a whore, but Seungcheol eats up every whimper, his tongue gliding against your own.

Your fingers thread through his hair, keeping him close as he fucks you closer and closer to the edge.

The agent pulls away, breathing heavily. “I can feel you clenching, honey, gonna cum again?”

“Gonna cum on your big cock,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

One of his hands slips between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit.

You whimper loudly, back arching off the bed. Seungcheol takes the opportunity to finally draw your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing over the sensitive bud.

You gasp, body on fire from all the wonderful sensations. “I’m so close-” you tell him.

“Then cum for me,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit even harder. “Cum on my cock.”

It only takes a few more seconds for you to follow through with his command, the cord snapping in your stomach as your release takes over. Your pussy clamps down on Seungcheol, and when he lets out a groan, you know your body is milking him for every drop of cum that he has.

His thrusts have become sloppier, more erratic, deeper- and each one has him kissing your cervix, which is a delightful feeling. 

You hold him to your breast through your high, and he diligently sucks on your nipple, fucking you until he can’t fuck you anymore.

Finally, Seungcheol slumps down against you, applying some of his weight over you like a weighted blanket.

He’s panting hard against your breasts, cheek pressed to the center of your chest.

“Your heart is going wild, honey,” he muses after a moment.

All you can do is laugh, unable to find the words just yet after the power of your release.

Instead, you stroke his hair, and Seungcheol lets out a murmured moan, nuzzling closer to you. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know.”

He chuckles. “You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Take me on a date first,” you tease.

“Tomorrow, if you can still walk, I’ll take you out.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He presses a kiss to your sternum. “If you can’t walk, I’ll bring the date to you.”

“How romantic,” you say sarcastically.

“Don’t start with me, honey,” he warns.

“I’m not starting anything,” you defend yourself with a giggle.

He looks up at you, eyes sparkling. “Sure you’re not.”

You lean down to kiss him gently, loving how domestic this whole thing has turned. But of course, ever the sex fiend, Seungcheol quickly ruins it. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll fuck you again.”

You can’t help but shake your head. “You promise?”

“If you’re going to talk back like this, make it five.”

He’s such a fuck, but you kind of love him.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know recently I've been doing a lot of short and sweet fics, hoping for a longer one next month :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “We tried letting you be in control,” he responds, pushing your legs together as he straddles you from behind. “It wasn’t as fun as me being in control though."

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, dom/sub themes, powerplays, Seungcheol tries to be a little submissive, he’s not great at following directions, dirty talk, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, blow job, mention of deep throating, nipple play/nipple pinching, creamipie, cumming together, etc…   I petnames. (hers) honey

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 175

🌙 starring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader

bonus

“Hey, big guy,” you grin as you enter the apartment, eyes finding Seungcheol sitting on the living room couch. “How was your day?”

He pauses his show to look at you, flashing a tired smile. “It was okay.”

“Yikes,” you immediately go to join him on the couch, cuddling up to his side. “The new handler still being a bit of a dick?”

“Joshua was hand-picked by Jeonghan, it’s not like I can do anything about it,” Seungcheol sighs. “How about you, still enjoying the wizz kid?”

“Dino’s a good one,” you insist. “He follows instruction very well.”

Seungcheol scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“You still jealous that I’m in his ear and not yours?” you tease, poking your boyfriend’s chest.

“Don’t go there, honey,” he warns.

“Come on- it could be fun. I think having someone who listens well has built my confidence… you know, we could try it out a little, if you want.”

“You want me to be submissive?” Seungcheol’s brows raise in a sort of shocked amusement. “Not a chance in hell.”

☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.2k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @runahways - @milkteade - @mocha000

@anothershorthuman - @notbeforelong - @darthlunaa

@chogiwapadada - @meowniee - @pandabur666

@just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono - @lovelyhan -

@grilledbananas - @quennlenn - @zezedoesshit

@unlikelysublimekryptonite - @wonwoothinker

svt taglist

@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird

@xcynthiaaa

thank you to those who interacted with the micro-teaser

@lovinth8 - @sngcheollliee - @smileydk

[genderkoolaid]

Hi. You always post a lot of info so I'm wondering if you might be able to help me. Is there a difference between radfems and TERFs? Are they both bad? If so, why are they bad? Are there any dog whistles to look out for when it comes to these groups? Please ignore this if it makes you uncomfortable. I've seen a lot of people pointing out that they're bad, but never really saying why. I want to make sure I follow intersectional feminism and not those groups.

Radical feminism is the name of a branch of feminism. It originally got its name because it advocated for extreme changes to society to address female oppression, but developed into a specific worldview which I (off the top of my head) would define by certain traits:

Oppositional sexism. Men and women (or "males" and "females") are fundamentally opposed. Oftentimes this is bioessentialist, arguing that this opposite comes from biology, but it may also be framed as a political necessity; a radfem might argue that gender and sex are fake BUT we need male vs female as political identities in order to identify our "allies" and "enemies". Regardless, males and females are physically distinct and political enemies. You can tell a man from a woman, either from their body or their behavior, the two categories cannot overlap, and no other gender/sex-labels are relevant.

Fatalistic perspectives on patriarchy. Not only are males and females opposed, but this cannot be changed. This may be bioessentialist (the opposition comes from something in our nature, which cannot change) or gender-essentialist (the opposition comes from socialization which occurs as a child due to outside pressure and/or internal gender identity, and cannot change.) Focus is not placed on an ideal future where men and women are equals and social partners. Instead, there is a sense that there is no way to truly have a society with men and women where males do not oppress females, or try to. Sometimes this is more implicit and other times you have people who explicitly believe in creating & enforcing female-only societies.

Misogyny as the source of all oppression, or at least the most important & the one people should identity themselves as before anything else. Those who call themselves intersectional generally only really care about other issues to the extent that they affect women in some way. Part of the downfall of the original radical feminists was the fact that the dominant groups were upper-class white women, who ignored racism and classism and silenced poor women & women of color, insisting that anti-racist and anti-classist action distracted from The Movement & that calling out other women's bigotry was anti-feminist.

A general suspicion of sexual desire and sex, often expressing itself as whorephobia (anti-sex work) and anti-kink attitudes, specifically under the argument that they are inherently misogynistic and abusive. Sex is associated with men and maleness, which again, are inherently the enemy. Sex WITH men, or with a person or object that could be construed as male, is especially bad.

The impetus to make your personal life As Feminist As Possible– "The personal is political." That isn't a bad slogan on its own (it's true), but with radical feminists it expresses itself as a high standard of Radfemmaxing. You should be celibate if you are attracted to men, or become a political lesbian, you shouldn't be masculine OR feminine (anti-butch & femme sentiment), you should reject makeup and shaving, you should cut off male relatives and even abort male fetuses– and you must identify with womanhood and femaleness, while rejecting any identity related to manhood and maleness. It's not just that you should examine your desires and choices and question why you feel the way you feel (again, this is a good thing). Radfems have the belief that they already know the correct answer to that Introspection, and if you come to any other conclusion than theirs (I like wearing makeup because it's fun, I want to be a man because it fits me), then it's taken as proof you are still brainwashed.

TERFS are trans-exclusive radfems. They believe that being trans is not real, or at least not healthy or an acceptable feminist stance. TERFs tend to use the language of "sex" and "males vs females." Many use the term "gender critical," meaning they see gender as fake and damaging, while sex is real and the proper platform for feminist analysis. I once saw a TERF define her stance as "it's not degrading because its feminine, its feminine because its degrading." They believe in things like autogynophilia and rapid onset gender dysphoria, and attribute transgender identity with sexual trauma, internalized homophobia and internalized misogyny.

TIRFs are trans inclusive. They believe that transgender feelings are natural and should be listened to and followed, and that feminism should take gender identity into account. However, they still have a "male vs female" worldview. They may argue that transgender men's internal gender feelings led them to internalize male socialization, while trans women internalized female socialization, meaning that all trans people's experiences with gender and misogyny align most with cis people who share their gender identity.

In both cases, anti-nonbinary exorsexism and intersexism are unavoidable. TERFs will label intersex people as "males/females with a disorder" and attribute nonbinary identity either to internalized misogyny (FTX) or to avoid being held accountable for male privilege (MTX). TIRFs similarly fail to acknowledge how someone's socialization can be affected by intersexism. MTX people are either trans women in denial or flamboyant cis men; FTX people are either trans men avoiding their privilege, or cis women avoiding their privilege*.

Not everyone who uses radical feminist arguments or shares the general perspective openly identified as radfem. There are many "cryptos" who purposefully obscure their political identity to spread radfem ideas in queer & feminist spaces. Other people adopt the general ideas of radical feminism without consciously identifying as one, because of cryptos and how pop feminism often adopts their flashier ideas. So it's important to understand these qualities as on a scale, with some versions being more subtle while others are explicit.

Radical feminism always reduces trans experiences (& experiences in general) to a simple, uncrossable binary, based either in gender or sex. Nuance and cros- or non-binary gender experiences are seen as anti-feminist and aligned with the patriarchy, if not part of a targeted plan to hurt feminist movements.

*the idea of "AFAB privilege" is. a thing in some people's analysis of transmisogyny.

[nayatarot777]

What Should You Focus On About Your Internal Self?

• Pile One •

Hi, Pile One! Welcome to your reading!

You’re being called to focus on your lack of productivity. It’s keeping you stagnant when you could be creating and manifesting great things for yourself. There needs to be a death to a part of you that’s stuck around for longer than necessary. You may be satisfied with less. Or seemingly satisfied with going without what you know that you could have. It’s time to change that. And it won’t be easy (a part of you will feel like it’s dying - because it is. Your ego will resist and try to drag you back from fully laying this procrastinator within you to rest) but it’ll catapult you out of this energy of being stuck in the same place. Your ego only resists death because it’s afraid of the unknown. Thats when you have to come in and soothe yourself by providing understanding to your ego about how the unknown is new, but positive. After death comes rebirth, right? There’ll be a brand new journey for you to embark on and learn about. You’ll be able to learn about your capabilities, your creative efforts and how far they can go, etc. This procrastination is a method of self-protection that your ego has utilised for a very long time, meaning that it’s afraid of experiencing failure which would ultimately lead to shame, disappointment, etc. However, it’s already experiencing these things because you’re allowing it to prevent you from doing anything anyway. There’s a reason why your ego is so closely linked to your inner-child. What do you do when a child doesn’t want to do something that you know would be good for them, due to their own fear? You calm them and slowly introduce them into the unknown that they’re afraid of, while reassuring them and praising them for ever step forward that they take. You don’t let them allow their fear to control them. You subdue their fear with comfort and assurance. This is what you need to do for yourself.

Store

Patreon

YouTube

• Pile Two •

Hi, Pile Two! Welcome to your reading!

You are being called to focus on finding peace and contentment. Focus on finding satisfaction within yourself as well as a feeling of safety. There’s an internal transformation happening for you, and it does lead to this feeling of safety that we’re speaking of. You may have a history of not having the tools of self-protection, leaving you vulnerable to those who wanted to use you or take advantage of you. There’s a part of you opening up that is some type of warrior on behalf of yourself. A part of you that’s able to protect yourself from anyone who gets too close to you too soon. This protector is your intuition. Your crown chakra that’s the medium between your higher self and your human self. This is what’s opening and transforming within you. You may be experiencing ascension symptoms (specifically your third-eye opening a lot more, enabling you to read between the lines of what people say and the situations that you find yourself in). Trust that you don’t have to be in defence-mode anymore, because you’re capable of protecting yourself. Don’t be discouraged if you feel like your consciousness is slow to catch onto certain things either. Tapping into uncharted territory such as your intuition or your 3rd eye takes time. Let it develop naturally. The people who don’t usually end up going a bit crazy and unhinged because they’ve opened their third eye (their pineal gland) forcefully and too quickly. You don’t want to be one of them 🙃. You also need to ensure that you’re breathing life into your intuition. What do I mean by this? You need to validate that your intuition exists. Don’t suppress it - because that’s the opposite of giving life to something. That’s how you squash it, eventually killing it. Validate its existence and its being. Again, your intuition is the direct connection to your higher self. Your higher self is on a higher dimension compared to you, meaning that they see things that you can’t see with your physical eye - hence why you see symbolisms and messages in your metaphysical (non-physical eye - your third eye. Your mind’s eye). Try to bring to an end your habit of disregarding what you see spiritually.

Store

Patreon

YouTube

• Pile Three •

Hi, Pile Three! Welcome to your reading!

There needs to be a lot of acknowledgement from you towards yourself in regard to how much work you’ve put into creating safety and peace within yourself. You’ve completed the journey that Pile Two is currently on. You’ve been busy putting yourself together internally, which your physical reality is probably reflecting in some way - as within, so without. I’m hearing “you can rest”. You’ve found a lot of the safety and peace that you were looking for, thanks to your own efforts. You can take some weight off of your shoulders and just relax. Get playful and treat yourself in some way. The reason why you’ve found this sense of safety is because you’ve protected your mind, in-turn protecting your peace. “The ALL is mind; the universe is mental” - for those of you who are avid readers, I suggest that you read The Kybalion if you haven’t already. It seems like you’ve already taught yourself one of the principles of mental alchemy, which probably means that you’ll be able to grasp the other principles relatively easily too. You’ve found peace because you’ve found trust in yourself and your inner-knowing. Your intuition has been working overtime 😂. Your intuition is why you can keep yourself in your serenity. I’m hearing clapping from your higher self. They’re proud of you. You’ve reached a stage that many of us are still working on completing. Now that this ability to connect and to have faith in your intuition comes so naturally to you, you can rest. You don’t have to be vigilant all of the time. If your intuition needs to tell you something, then it will. You don’t need to constantly stay alert to it because you’ve built a great connection to it now.

Store

Patreon

YouTube

[bambi-slxt]

soft!dom!chris

✨a concept✨

"ohhh, i know, mamas, i knowww..." he whispered, petting your clit and fluttering hole. chris lay beside you, resting on his side while you were strewn about the bed, legs thrown open.

if you'd had the wherewithal to be ashamed, your cheeks would be crimson, but as it was, the only thing your mind could focus on was the overwhelming sensations from the man next to you.

with one hand, he caressed the stray baby hairs from your face. with the other, he made your stomach twist into knots, pressing on your most sensitive nerve, using the generous lubrication of your juices to make his fingertips slippery.

a whine escaped your throat and you looked over at chris, his the movement of his hand causing your back to arch.

"hey, pretty lady," he said softly, continuing his maddening pace, "you doin' okay?" chris's blue eyes were soft and sweet, his eyelids heavy with the weight of his desire.

"y-y-yes," you stuttered after he sunk a finger inside of you (he must have timed it like that on purpose, the little shit), "please, m-more-"

"more?" he repeated, drawing the word out as a smile flickered over his face. "baby girl wants more?" his finger slowed its thrusting as his thumb feathered over your nub.

"fuck, yes, chris, more, please-" your hips bucked into his palm but the veins had already appeared on his forearm - chris's arm wasn't going to budge, and your body was kept pretty firmly against the mattress underneath the flexed muscles.

"so greedy," he purred. chris dug another finger inside of you, curling both of his soaked digits upwards. "s' that feel good?" he asked, as if he didn't know.

"it does, chris, it does, it feels so good," you babbled softly, keening under his touch. chris dipped his head out of your eyeline and you felt his nose brush against your temple. his voice, low and steady, filled your ear as his breath washed over it.

"that's my girl...there we go, breathe...in, out...good girl. just feel it, ma."

"you look so pretty."

"you're so good for me. best girl in the world. my pretty little girlie."

"ah, ah, ah, not yet, you know better...ask me. use your big girl words and ask me. what do you want, miss lady?"

"please, chris, can i cum, please, i've been so good, i can't hold it anymore, please, please, please, i need it, i need it, i-"

"cum for me, mamas."

your body almost convulsed with the power of the orgasm that ripped through you. your head shot up and your teeth found chris's shoulder. he hissed at the pain but leaned into it.

"good girl," he growled, "take it out on me. that's my girl. so good for me."

his fingers didn't stop. your pussy squelched but the pleasure tingled everywhere, everywhere, it was all you could see, all you could taste, and there was chris, holding you tightly, as though you might disappear at any moment, flexing his arm so you could get a better grip on his shoulder, rubbing your clit at just the right pace...

your orgasm broke and you collapsed with a cry onto the mattress once again. chris slowly extracted his hand from between your clenched thighs (when did that happen?), his own chest heaving a little as he caught his breath.

"easy ma, easy. breathe."

you nodded slowly, staring unseeing at the ceiling. chris saw your fucked-out expression and smiled. he twisted around, facing the nightstand but never letting his hand leave you.

he returned with a towel, soft and warm from the dryer. you had no idea when he'd gotten it. you didn't care.

"up," he said, tapping your hips. you struggled, so he slid his arm under you and lifted your ass, giving it a squeeze as he slipped the towel underneath you and lowered your body back down.

chris brought the edges of the fabric up to your soaking wet pussy, wiping away your juices gently, taking great care to move slowly over your clit. you gasped at the touch anyway, and his brows furrowed. "i know, ma. m' sorry. almost done."

you were beginning to return to your body, blinking away the fog of pleasure. your eyes were drawn to chris's shoulders, one of which sported a magnificent purple bruise and...were those teeth marks?

"oh my god did i bite you?"

chris just grinned and placed a kiss on your tummy. "it was worth it."

request to be on the taglist under this post right here,

make sure your mentions are on! i'll be removing many users soon due to inability to tag!

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings  @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll @wh0schl0 @sharksworldd @mattscoquette @chrisslutx @sturnzsblog @sturniologals @quaxkingshs @certifiedstarrr @sarosfilms @mattsfavbigtitties @slutforsturniolos @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @wurlibydominicfike @certifiedstarrr @daydays-things  @trulyurss  @flouvela  @laxbabe131147  @inkyray  @christophersslut  @missmimii  @mwahlilzsturnthepot @pettydollie

[lymtw]

Satoru who is just so obsessed with you and actually becomes somewhat jealous when others make you laugh to the point where you're blushing. He's quick to misunderstand a situation when it comes to men getting overly comfortable with you. From what you understand, the jealousy doesn't run deep, but he does wonder sometimes—stupidly, if someone else will catch your eye and test your fidelity to him.

"How is it being with Gojo all the time? I get seeing him at work, but going home with him and spending all your time together...? It's got to be exhausting, no?"

This nobody doesn't even know Satoru. He's never gotten near him—never even spoken a word to him. It's infuriating that he even assumed you're exhausted from spending time with the person you the love the most, but you smile anyway, and respond as politely as you can.

"Satoru can be a handful at times, but that's one of the many things I love about him. He's funny, and even though sometimes he acts like he runs around without a brain, he is one of the smartest men I know. He takes care of me." You chuckle, recalling a warm, fond memory.

Satoru watches your conversation with the man from the bar on the other side of the room. He sees you smiling and nodding, and his heart starts beating faster. He understands that he has to keep his cool. What is he missing that you can find in someone else? You're with him for a reason, and you've never been one to hide things from him. There's no need to feel insecure.

He knows he can't stop you from talking with other people. You can interact with whoever you want because his jealousy isn't to be mistaken with control, but it's hard not to stay by your side all the time. You've never given him any reason to doubt the strength of your relationship, but he just doesn't trust other men around you. He knows men are dogs, chopping it up with any pretty girl with no regards to whether they're in a relationship or not. What he does know is that he wholeheartedly trusts you. You would let him know if someone was taking it too far, wouldn't you?

VS

Satoru who is so obsessed with you and content with the fact that you are almost always within arms reach of him. He feels so secure knowing he gets to leave work with you every day only to spend more time with you at home.

At night, you lay facing each other, one of your legs thrown over his hip and one of his hands running up and down your waist. You talk about insignificant things that result in significant memories. You whisper and giggle about the dumbest things, until your sentences don't make sense because of how tired both of you are. You cling onto him and tell him you love him, lazy kisses pressed to his lips with every cliffhanging word that is threatened by sleep.

On lazy Sunday afternoons, you lie in bed together watching scary movies. He knows the plots aren't real, and that the monsters and hideous things that appear aren't real either, but your fear of them is. He purposely chooses these movies because he knows you won't focus on them and turn to give him all the attention when you're too scared. Anything to distract you from the terrifying things that are seemingly about to pop out of the screen. While he pretends he's focusing on the movie, he grins as you begin to shower him with your affectionate kisses. One for his neck, one for his cheek, oh... there goes another one for his neck. He lays there, a few chuckles slipping when you kiss his chin and his nose. You mumble little sweet nothings to him that have him grinning ear to ear. He can physically feel the love you hold for him and it's heavenly.

Satoru loves that you've always been shy about your needs. He loves the way you react when he kisses you anywhere that isn't your face. He knows neck kisses are a weakness for you and he uses that knowledge against you when he wants to see you get flustered.

He'll come up behind you, put his hands on your waist and start kissing your shoulder, slowly trailing the sweetness towards your neck. He knows he's affecting you because after a minute of him mouthing up your sensitive points, you stopped what you were doing and just felt him. His hands peel your shirt off your stomach and glide upward, towards your chest. He can hear your shaky breathing more clearly.

"'toru?" You call, meekly, your hands clenched into fists.

"Hm?" He gives your breasts a squeeze, not letting up on his work on your neck.

"Satoru," you repeat, clear surrender in your tone. You use his full first name to grab his attention, yet it still sounded so sweet.

"You can do it, baby. Tell me what you want."

You get so nervous when he starts talking like this. It makes your chest feel tight, and your stomach swarms with butterflies. You want to run away, but his hands are so warm and he's holding you like you're the most fragile thing to ever exist.

You turn around and quickly bury your face in his chest. Satoru caught a glimpse of the rosiness dusting your cheeks, and the tips of your ears were noticeably glowing, the cute reactions earning a chuckle from him. His hands dragged down your back, and he palmed your ass before going slightly lower to clasp around the backs of your thighs. He lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

"My pretty girl is so shy. Don't worry, I know what you like," he says, directing both of you to the bedroom.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Do you have any advice on how not to give up on fic ideas just because you know they’ll be unpopular? I have ideas I’d love to write, but I’ll get three paragraphs into my first draft and quit because I can’t imagine anyone else enjoying it. Every time I get a fic that gets bad stats, it gets harder for me to go back to writing, even though I know it should be the opposite. I hate the idea of pouring my time and effort into a fic only to find out too late that everyone else thinks it’s worthless. I’ve tried blocking stats to try to fix this issue, but I think it’s already too deep in my head to be fixed—I really think readers will always value popular fic more than unpopular fic, and i feel so defeated knowing I always want to write fic no one else sees any value in.

I know a suggested solution is finding a fic community, but no one on Tumblr is ever interested, I’ve given up trying to figure out how to do fandom on Twitter, and everyone else is hidden away on private discords that they post in-jokes from in their fic notes, and I doubt I’ll ever be invited to join.

I think part of this issue is I feel lonely in fandom and seeing one fic after another fail just amplifies that feeling. But without any hope of being able to build connections, is there a way I can start to feel better about writing fic?

I agree that your loneliness in fandom seems to be the crux of your issue, but it might be loneliness beyond that as well?

I can't remember if it was tags or a reblog on a recent post, but someone was making the point that a lot of us in fandom are spoonies or some form of neurodivergent and that for a lot of us, fandom is where our socializing occurs.

But that doesn't have to be the case. You can find your community outside of fandom. You can find people who share a different hobby with you, people who are regulars at the same restaurant you often go to, people you often see at the library or the grocery store. Some of those people will be easier to talk to than others and some of those conversations will be one-offs instead of the basis for a friendship, but all of them will give you a feeling of connection even if it's just for a brief moment of time.

Right now, the purpose of your writing is to make a connection rather than to write a story that you want to tell. Your entire focus is on whether others will respond to it or not. It's hard to find your own enjoyment when the end goal that you're looking to isn't a finished fic but rather a reaction that will make you feel valued.

If what you're starving for right now is an end to the loneliness, then you'll need to tackle that separately from the writing. Look to the people you have in your life and reach out to them to spend time together - or just have a chat. Look at the spaces in your life that feel empty and invite someone in. Even just one person can relieve the ache of that loneliness, so take that as a first step.

Volunteering can be a great way to put yourself out there while giving yourself the cover of having work you need to do. Friendships form as a result of repeated interactions, so the structure of an organization can give you the opportunity for that. There are even organizations where you can volunteer online - the OTW is an example of one, but it's not the only one there is.

You clearly love writing, but right now writing is tangled up in all of these other emotions too. Try separating the writing from posting it online. Focus just on telling a story, and make it just for you. Find the things you enjoy in writing that have nothing to do with the eventual reader and spend your time leaning into those instead.

[felassan]

Dragon Age on Twitter: "From abilities to companion banter, our devs covered a lot in our Discord Q+A last week! Below is a small sample of the questions. You can read the full transcript here: [link]" [source].

Image 1 text:

Q: Can we kiss or romance Manfred the skeleton? A: "I would say, 'not that skeleton', but we're not saying 'no skeletons'." - Matt Rhodes

Image 2 text:

Q: Are we going to be limited in how many abilities we can pick from the wheel? A: "You have to choose which three abilities you wanna bring for Rook, which three for a companion, and which three for another companion. It actually creates a really interesting balance between strategizing, having to do that strategy about your combat kit before the mission, and then the tactical decisions once you're in the field. While there are three ability slots for Rook, there's so much more than that... you'll have an ultimate ability associated with your class... there's a type of item you can get that functions like abilities... you can direct which targets your companions can focus on... there's just so much from the wheel once you get in and see everything working together." - Corinne Busche

Image 3 text:

Q. Will we get the same companion conversations and banter as seen in the previous Dragon Age games [with only two party members]? A: "Honestly, I don't think you could actually stop the writers from writing banter. I will say for myself it's one of the more fun things to do. Banter is absolutely a core part of DA:TV... If anything it's the most we've ever done for pairings and companions... everyone loves hearing the companions talk to each other. Everyone loves hearing these stories and relationships developed over the course of the game." - John Epler

[source]

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader) Part EIGHT

You found yourself awakened by the sound of birds chirping. The sun was slowly making an appearance into the sky and the fire that was once lit last night, was now slowly smoking away. You stretched out your arms and legs to allow the muscles to expand throughout your body so that you wouldn’t be sore getting up. You turned to see Armando laying against the tree next to yours. All you could do was stare, although he was frowning in his sleep, you thought he looked beautiful while doing it. You began to feel bad for him. You knew that he was raised within the Cartel, and born to become a killer for his mother. However you wanted to change that, you wanted to show him that there was more to life than to always be on the run or being a hitman.  You were so caught up with watching Armando that you didn’t even notice that Mike was walking towards you. 

“Hey…Y/n.”Mike muttered, stopping in front of you.

You gave him a nod in response. You weren’t sure how you felt about Mike, he had been a bitch towards yesterday and it made you feel angry. You used to love him and Marcus equally however now, Mike is more on your shit-list.

“Can I sit right here?”he asked, pointing to the open space next to you.

You turned to look at the spot, thinking if you really wanted him by you or not. You weren’t in the mood to sit and have a conversation with him since you were just woken up by the birds however you figured it may be for the better.

“Free will.”

Observing Mike as he sat down, you could feel the tension that was there between the two of you. It was hugging you tighter and tighter every time you guys were around each other.

“What is it? You’re not over here for no reason.”, you continued looking out to where Marcus was sleeping.

“Yeah, I couldn’t help but to come over and talk to you, especially after what you said last night.”

“It was a one time explanation Mike, I told you that.”, you sighed, turning to look at him. You could tell that he was going back into the past. The way he kept his face forward while allowing his eyes to figure things out.

“I know but why didn’t you tell me that you were undercover and that you knew Howard? I would’ve helped.”

“Would you have told someone you were undercover?”

He stayed silent.

“Exactly, Mike. I was an amaterue and was afraid, okay…”, you replied, turning to look at him.

“I understand but I have to say this.. when you went to this tree to lean against it last night, I couldn’t help but to watch the way Armando followed you like a lost puppy.”, he laughed, randomly bringing it up.

“I think that’s a stretch, don’t look to much into it Mike.”, you scoffed, waving your hand off at him.

You knew exactly what he meant and you knew that he wasn’t lying. However, none of it was needed right now. You had your eyes set on one person, McGrath.

“I’m telling you, y/n. When you threw a tantrum yesterday—”

“Excuse me…”, you interrupted, folding your arms while turning to look at him.

“Just listen. When you were “upset” about us staying right here for the evening and then decided to leave and be on your own, yesterday .... He stared at you the whole entire time as you were leaving.”, he laughed.

“So? I stare at people, it doesn't mean anything.”, you replied, shrugging your shoulders. You knew that you were lying, it meant everything to you. You just didn’t want to admit it.

“No this was different…I don’t know how to explain it but it was just different. He tried to tell Marcus and I to do certain things but couldn’t even focus because he was too busy looking in the direction that you had gone.”, he explained, turning his attention towards you.

“And when he couldn’t see you anymore, he told Marcus and I to get some wood together so that we could light a fire, and use it as a source  to bring you back once he found you. No offense but…. I was against him going to get you. At the time, I felt that he would not only be wasting his time but ours also. However once he said that he needed you and I saw that look in his eyes. I stopped debating about it.”, he continued scratching the back of his head.

You shifted your head a little bit towards Armando to see him shifting in his sleep. You couldn’t help but to feel smitten but also confused. You didn’t want to get him hurt, he lost his mother and now has to live his life being on the run. This was too much.

“That’s…great. Cool.”, you sighed looking at Mike. “I mean what else would you like for me to say Mike. You were a bitch to me all day yesterday because you felt that you couldn’t “trust me”. Now you’re telling me this, why?”

“Look I apologized for that, y/n. You don’t think that I was hurt while having to act that way. Hell I cared about you then and I still do now… even with your smart ass mouth. I was just scared, that’s all.”, he argued. “Plus I'm telling you this because I know that you feel the same. So don’t try to bullshit me, okay.”

You lifted your shoulders while turning to Mike. You didn’t know what you were about to say but you just knew that something was about to come out of your mouth.

“Listen Mike..if you actually know me like you say you do…you would know that me “bullshitting” isn’t something that I do. So for your information, I don’t care for Armando, at all ...And let's say there was something ... .well I wouldn’t want it because I'm not like you. Fucking around with people  while being on the job, like you did with Rita. So please, let's get them up so we can leave. Okay..”, you snapped back, allowing your ego to get in the way. You knew what you were saying wasn’t true but you felt that you had to protect yourself. Protect Armando.

You watched as Mike stood up and offered his hand out to you, signaling you to use it. Grabbing it, you lifted yourself up and wiped the dirt off of your clothes.

“Sure y/n, sure.”, he replied walking away.

You felt that it was weird, weird having to act a certain way, even if you knew that it wasn’t the truth. You slowly started to regret everything that you said, wanting to tell Mike that you didn’t mean it but by the time you got ready to open your mouth. You could hear low grunts and the sound of leaves happening next to you. You turned to see Armando standing up stretching. 

“Let’s head out,  there should be a road a couple miles North.”Armando yawned while walking towards Mike and Marcus. You watched as he walked past you. You turned to Mike to see if he noticed but he was too busy talking to Marcus. You shrugged it off, not thinking anything about it and followed Armando.

Time passed by, and after all of the walking and running that you, Marcus, Mike and Armando did. You finally found a road that led to a random trailer park. So you guys hid in the bushes to see if you could see anything that would be useful.

“That will be useful for you guys.”, you whispered pointing towards the clothes line that was hung. 

“Yeah but we also need—”, before Marcus could finish his sentence, the three of you watched as Armando sprinted off onto the side of a broken down trailer.

“What the hell is he doing?”, you muttered watching him leave. You looked at Mike, then at Marcus and then sprinted towards the direction Armando went. 

“Y/n! Armando!”Mike loudly whispered watching you guys leave.

You looked around for Armando, until you found him changing his clothes. You watched as he pulled the dirty white t-shirt that he found over his head, to see you staring at him. He didn’t look too happy.

“What the hell are you doing?”Armando mumbled, looking around to make sure no one saw you two.

“What do you mean, I’m helping you. Marcus and Mike have each other.”, you replied with a confused look on your face. You watched as he rolled his eyes and then waved at you to follow him.

“You see that truck. That’s going to be our ride.”, he pointed, navigating towards the peeled white and red truck that was in the middle of the park. You shook your head in agreement and watched as he inched closer towards the truck.

Once you saw him reach his hand back, you knew it was meant for you to hold again  since that’s what he’s been doing. So you stayed low and jogged towards him, making sure that no one could see you. Reaching out your hand to grab his, you grabbed it so that you could keep up with him. Till  he quickly snatched his hand back and turned his head slightly back for him to make eye-contact with you.

“What the hell was that about? I didn’t ask you to hold my hand.”, he whispered irritatingly.

“I assumed because you put your hand out..that you wanted me to…”

 “Don’t assume.”, he heckled. “The truck is right there, so run towards it when I do or get left.”

You remained silent. You felt lost and disturbed, what the hell just happened? Why was he acting cold towards you all of a sudden? You looked around to be sure that no one else was behind you, then ran as soon as he did. Opening the door and getting inside, you noticed it was just one long seat. Which means you would have to sit right next to him. Shutting the door and scooting towards the middle, you buckled your seatbelt and watched as Armando drove towards Marcus, Mike and the two white males.

You watched as the two guys turned around to get ready to shoot at you and Armando until Marcus and Mike kicked them and pushed them to the side while taking their guns.

“GET ON!”, you yelled watching them jump onto the back of the truck. You were hoping that at least one of them would sit up front with you and Armando. However, the opposite happened so here goes this long ass ride.

He was driving and you were hoping to make it back to Miami by tonight. You were nowhere near the city since the plane crashed in the middle of nowhere but you knew everything that we needed was there. You could see Armando looking at you from your peripheral vision and  you wanted to stay silent but you couldn’t help it.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, while looking out the window.

He kept silent, you could tell that he was bothered. 

“Armando. I know you hear me talking to you.”, you continued. You were now looking at him, having your whole body towards him. He had your attention and you knew that he knew that he did but that damn ego of his kept him quiet.

“So we’re playing those childish ass games now..”

“What do you want, y/n, damn.”, he replied, breaking the silence. He couldn’t help it.

“What do I want? I’m trying to figure out what's wrong with you, we were fine yesterday and now you’re acting all weird.”

“Me…acting weird, never love.”, he scoffed, allowing his accent to roll off of his tongue. It turned you on and you could feel it. He felt it because he looked over at you and then back at the road.

“You’re so up and down Armando, what’s going on?”

“You want to know what my problem is with you, y/n?”

“Oh so all of a sudden you have a problem, last night you were…i don’t know…talking to me and stuff but now you’re acting like a bitch.”. You argued. 

“A bitch…Me? There’s two people inside of this car right now, that is the perfect definition of bitch and I’m looking at her.”, he laughed angrily, looking over at you.

You couldn't help but to remain silent. That sentence alone had shut you up which had never happened before and he knew it. You..a bitch. Never.

“So I’m a bitch now, well fuck you Armando. Seriously.”, you replied, giving him a slight push.

“Hey c’mon baby, I’m driving!”, he yelled pointing out towards the road.

Baby?

“Oh so now I’m your baby…You’re so confusing.”, you whined, throwing your head into your hands.

“Me? Y/n, you’ve been giving me  mixed signals left and right. One minute you want me…the next minute you don’t. I just don’t get it.”

You turned to face him, you knew that this was a perfect opportunity for you to be a smartass like he was earlier towards you.

“That’s brave enough of you to assume that I would want you.”, you lied folding your arms.

“Huh..what…what are you saying?”, he stuttered, being caught off guard by your statement. You watched as he kepting shifting his eyes from you to the road.

“I’m saying that’s a wild assumption, I never said that I wanted you.”

You watched as he shoved his tongue to the side of his cheek, he was beyond mad. He was gripping the wheel a bit tighter now and you were wishing that it was your neck instead.

“Oh I get it…Earlier, when I snatched my hands away…Okay but let's not act like that conversation between you and Mike never happened, this morning.”, he laughed looking out of the review mirror.

“What?”

“Whaaattt?”, he mocked. “Between you and Mike, I heard you and everything that you said y/n. Fun fact about me, I’m an extremely light sleeper sweetie.”

You were stunned, something told you not to say those things. Especially with Armando being near you but you couldn’t help it. You were tired of people questioning you about how you feel and telling you about yourself. You looked at Armando and watched as he avoided eye-contact with you.

“Armando…”, you sighed, reaching out your hand and setting it onto his thigh. You felt confused on the inside and hurt. You weren’t sure what to do. “I care for you..I do…it’s just that—”

“Y/n just stop, we’re no good for each other and you don’t want me. I understand, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”, he interrupted, removing your hand. He knew that was a lie and you could tell by the way he swallowed the lump that was in his throat. However you couldn’t help but to feel your heart fall into your stomach. You wanted Armando, you just didn’t know how to express it to him.

You looked back to see Marcus and Mike having a conversation in the back of the truck.

“Can you stop the truck?”, you asked, turning your focus back to Armando. You watched as he instantly pulled over,  not even acknowledging you sitting next to him anymore.

Getting out of the truck and shutting the door, you walked to the back where Marcus and Mike were to let down the door.

“Why did we stop? Y/n, what’s wrong?”Marcus asked, noticing the depressing look on your face.

You turned to look at Mike to see him looking at Armando through the back window and then back at you, he was catching on.

“Um…Can you guys ride up front, I need to be alone.”, you whispered trying to avoid eye-contact. You watched as Mike and Marcus worked their way towards the end of the truck to get out. They helped you climb on and made sure you were comfortable before getting up front. Once Armando started driving again, you found yourself blinking very fast, to stop yourself from crying. The wind was slapping you in the face and was softly throwing your body around. Although you were alive, you felt dead inside.

He hated you now and you were sure of it. You weren’t trying to be cold towards him or to lie but you felt what you said was for the best. For you and for him. Now you could feel it, the tears streaming down your face while your regret sat on your back. You decided to get comfortable, so you caved your knees close to your chest and buried your head in it. Hoping that you get that happy ending that you felt, you and Armando deserved.

[mooshkat]

thinking abt the first time buck accidentally snaps at tommy while he's dealing with some pain flaring up in his bad leg. he's hurting and he's been trying to hide it, trying to get through the date night with tommy because work has been hell and kept them apart for too long, but it only gets worse as the night goes on. tommy keeps giving him these concerned little glances, and asks twice if he's okay, and everything is starting to be too much. too loud and too grating and too painful. he just wants to go to bed and sleep until the pain stops.

when he snaps at tommy, part of him thinks this is it. he's going to drive the best thing that's happened to him away because he's too much.

only, tommy looks at him and doesn't let himself get pushed away, doesn't get scared off in the face of buck lashing out. he just looks at him and asks, "how can i help?"

and later, when they're in bed after a hot bath together and buck is trying not to cry while tommy rubs warming massage oil into his leg, he apologizes for his outburst. and tommy, too sweet and kind and understanding, tells him that he gets it. he's had bad days too where he's been angry at everything and everyone because of the pain he deals with, and that he's put in the work to be better about it, but he also reminds buck that it's okay to ask for help when he needs it.

so for the first time in a long time, buck lets himself be vulnerable about the chronic pain. he tells tommy how much it hurts sometimes, especially during rainy days. he tells him about how hes gotten so used to the pain that he can ignore it and push it aside to focus on work when he needs to. he tells him about how, for the longest time fresh after the accident, one of the only things that made him feel better was this mac&cheese recipe that maddie used to make for him when he was younger.

the first time buck tells tommy "i love you" is after he admits to he's having a bad pain day and tommy gently nudges him to get in bed instead of going out on their date. and tommy surprises him with a bowl of that mac&cheese, having gotten the recipe straight from maddie, and how is he not supposed to fall in love with this man after that?

[ghoulsbounty]

From a Previous Life (Pt 4)

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Preg!Reader

Summary: You and the Ghoul quickly learn that your actions—and your words—carry significant consequences.

Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort, pregnancy, doctor examination, sickness/radiation poisoning, arguing, angst, grief, yearning, rejection, slow burn, stubbornness, canon-typical violence, miscommunication, mention of blood/wound, reader throws things.

Word Count: 7.1K

A/N: It's been a while since I posted for this story, part 4 has been kicking my butt! Lots of angst and drama as usual, but the happy ending is on the horizon! I'd love to know what you think 💌

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

After thoroughly scouring the house and filling his saddlebag with every vial he could find in the basement, the Ghoul was adamant that you both leave immediately and put as much distance as possible between yourselves and the grim scene. You offered no resistance; despite the crushing fatigue that weighed heavily on your body and muddled your thoughts, you were eager to escape the horrors of that place. The pervasive stench of blood and decay had seeped into your clothing, becoming nearly suffocating, making it difficult to breathe and causing a deep ache in your chest.

As you left, you couldn't resist the urge to glance back at the lifeless forms of Mags and her family. The scene struck you deeply, like a blow to the gut that stole your breath away. In her final moments, Mags had dragged herself to her son, her fingers interlocking with his as she drew her last breath. That image seared itself into your mind, intensifying your desperation to leave until you were nearly sprinting out of the door.

The house now loomed as a grim testament to the violence that had transpired within its walls. Shadows gathered thickly in the corners, murmuring unsettling recollections you wished to erase from your mind. Each groan of the floorboards and whisper of the wind through shattered windows seemed to echo with ghostly reminders of the atrocities you had witnessed—and narrowly escaped. This sinister ambiance was compounded by a deeper regret: your inability to rescue the Ghoul, resulting in your needing to be rescued by him once again.

The Ghoul moved with a newfound intensity and focus that left your nerves frayed. Normally cautious, almost paranoid about traveling after dark with you in tow, his demeanour had shifted dramatically. Driven by a sense of urgency, he hurriedly led the way outside. "We can't stay here," he growled under his breath, more to himself than to you, his voice a tense murmur. "It's not safe. The next town isn't far; we can make it if we hurry." His words were laced with determination, pushing both of you forward into the encroaching darkness.

His usual paranoia had transformed into a fierce resolve. The normally measured pace was replaced by swift, almost frantic strides, and you struggled to keep up. Each step was a battle against the pain and exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm you, but the Ghoul's insistence was infectious, propelling you forward despite the fatigue weighing down your limbs.

"We're close," he assured, though it was unclear whether he was speaking to you or trying to convince himself. The path ahead was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the dim glow of the moon partially hidden by clouds. The noises of the night—distant howls, rustling amongst the dunes, the occasional whistle of the wind—kept your nerves on edge, but the Ghoul's presence offered a small measure of comfort despite your earlier confrontation.

You remained silent, too afraid to question why he was so determined to leave the house in such a hurry. You had your own reasons to comply—each step a painful reminder as your shirt rubbed against the scratch on your pregnant belly—but his urgency unnerved you. He was usually the epitome of calm under pressure, but now he appeared almost desperate, causing your own anxiety to simmer just below the surface.

You cast a wary glance at the Ghoul, observing the tension etched into his features. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes flicked restlessly from side to side, meticulously scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. The silence stretched taut between you, a palpable tension hanging in the air. As you approached the edge of the property line, the urge to speak became overwhelming. Unable to suppress your curiosity and growing unease, you finally broke the silence.

"What's chasing us?" you whispered, the question escaping your lips before you could rein it in. His head snapped towards you, eyes narrowing for a moment before he responded, his voice low and gravelly.

"You don't need to worry about that," he murmured. The edge in his tone cut through the night air, sending a chill down your spine. "Just hurry up," he said louder this time, his voice firm. As the faint outline of the town emerged, he quickened his pace, and you struggled to keep up, your backpack bouncing painfully against your spine with each hurried step.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the icy air searing your lungs as a sudden, sharp pang shot through your abdomen. Clutching your stomach, you recoiled in horror when your hand came away slick with thick, crimson blood. Lifting your shirt, the dim light revealed the alarming state of your wound. What had started as a mere surface scratch had transformed into a grotesque display of infected tissue, marked by unsettling shades of green and purple. Yellowish pus oozed from the lesion, trickling down your trembling thigh, each drop intensifying your dread.

The sight alone was enough to send waves of panic through you, but it was the accompanying symptoms—the feverish chills, the throbbing pain, and the overwhelming weakness—that truly underscored the gravity of your situation. Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the escalating fear gripping your mind as you realized just how dire your circumstances had become.

Dizziness overwhelmed you, a disorienting fog clouding your thoughts as a wave of nausea surged, making your mouth water uncontrollably. The chilling night air felt like icy tendrils wrapping around you, adding to the disorientation. You fought to steady your breathing and quell the nausea, each breath a struggle against the rising panic that threatened to consume you. Your vision blurred, and the ground beneath your feet seemed to sway.

You knew you should tell him about your worsening condition, but you were reluctant to add to his worry. The Ghoul had enough on his mind without your complications, you rationalized, though a niggling part of you wanted to keep it secret just to spite him. Despite his presence and support, the unresolved tension between you lingered, feeding your stubbornness.

"We're almost there," you muttered to yourself, a mantra to keep your legs moving. The Ghoul glanced back at you, his eyes narrowing as he noticed your distress.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You forced a weak smile, nodding slightly. "I'm fine," you lied, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. The effort to appear composed was draining, and the dizziness intensified, making it harder to focus on the path ahead.

The town's lights shimmered in the distance, their soft glow promising relief and safety. Each step felt heavier, your legs trembling with the effort to keep moving. The Ghoul eyed you warily, noting the beads of sweat that dripped from your brow despite the harsh coolness of the evening. His hand reached out suddenly, gripping your arm and stopping you in your tracks. You swayed on unsteady feet, his firm hold the only thing keeping you upright. His eyes, filled with concern, searched your face for an explanation you weren't ready to give.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and demanding.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. "It's nothing," you mumbled, but your body betrayed you, another wave of dizziness making you clutch at his side for support.

"Don't lie to me," he said, his grip tightening. "You're not fine. Tell me what's going on."

Your vision blurred again, dark spots dancing at the edges, and you stumbled, the infection's toll on your body becoming undeniable. Each pulse of pain radiating from the wound sapped your strength, making it increasingly difficult to stay upright. Despite this, a stubborn part of you resisted admitting the severity of your condition, not wanting to appear weak or vulnerable.

The Ghoul tightened his grip on your arm as he shook you gently but firmly, trying to snap you out of your daze. "Tell me. Now." He urged, his voice low but intense. He dipped his head to meet your eyes, which wandered aimlessly, struggling to focus.

"I... I'm not feeling well," you stammered to the Ghoul, your voice quivering as you struggled to focus on him through the growing haze of discomfort. His eyes widened as he pulled your hand away from your stomach, revealing the crimson stain seeping through your wet shirt. He lifted the hem, his teeth clenching at the sight of the grievous wound.

His gloved hands moved with a mixture of desperation and gentleness as he examined the area around the infected wound. He was careful not to press too hard, yet his touch was thorough, probing the extent of the damage. The seriousness of the situation was unmistakable in his expression—the furrowed brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the flicker of panic in his eyes. You could see him mentally calculating the next steps, his mind racing to figure out how best to manage the injury in the desolate surroundings.

The cold air bit at your exposed skin, adding to your discomfort, while the distant lights of the town seemed both tantalizingly close and frustratingly far. The Ghoul's demeanour was a blend of determination and fear as he quickly formulated a plan in his mind.

"Is it bad?" you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, thin with fear. You weren't sure if you truly wanted to know the answer, and even less sure that he would tell you. His eyes flickered with something unreadable and he hesitated for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal.

He grasped your wrist and began rapidly tapping on the screen of your Pip-Boy, his eyes scanning the information with growing alarm. The glow from the screen illuminated the deep lines around his sunken eyes, and in your hazy state, you thought about how handsome he looked. When he finally looked up, you felt unsteady under his worried gaze.

"We need to go—now," he declared, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. His grip tightened around your forearm, the pressure both reassuring and insistent, as he tried to pull you up. The intensity in his eyes and the firmness of his hold made it clear that there was no time to waste, and your mind struggling to keep pace with the rapid escalation of the situation.

Despite his urgency, your legs betrayed you. They faltered, stumbling and ultimately failing as you collapsed onto the sandy ground with a soft thud. The Ghoul's voice echoed as if from a distance, his words urging you to get up, but your body felt disconnected, heavy, and unresponsive. A visceral wave of panic surged through you, tightening its grip around your chest, making it hard to breathe. The edges of your vision began to blur, darkness creeping in, threatening to engulf your senses like a spreading shadow.

As you lay sprawled on the cold, sandy ground, the Ghoul quickly bent down to your level, his face etched with unease. He searched your eyes, looking for any flicker of awareness, but your responses were slow, your eyelids heavy and fluttering, making his movements appear surreal and drawn out, as if you were both submerged underwater.

Despite the chill that pervaded the air, beads of sweat continued to form on your forehead, streaming down your face as a fever raged within you. In a feeble attempt to find solace, you reached out blindly, seeking the familiar touch of your companion, only to grasp at the empty, chilling air.

Then, a profound dizziness overwhelmed you, like being pulled into a deep, dark chasm. You lost all sense of direction, no longer aware of what was up or down, past or present. The world around you faded to nothingness as you slipped further away, drifting into an inescapable void that swallowed all consciousness.

A faint voice, soft yet persistent, gently coaxed you back from the void's embrace. Wrapped in a dense fog, your mind meandered through scattered memories, teetering on the edge of consciousness. Slowly, sensations began to return as if awakening from a deep slumber; nerves tingled and flickered back to life under your tentative command. The first movement was a mere twitch of a finger, but it felt monumental, the brush of thin cotton against your skin amplifying the moment.

What happened? Where were you? These questions nudged at the corners of your slowly clearing mind. With effort, you drew a deep breath, marshalling the strength to pry your eyes open. They fluttered initially, rebelling against the harshness of light and the strain of waking. Gradually, your vision steadied, focusing upward at a ceiling marred by stains and the passage of time. You lay still for a moment, taking in your surroundings, trying to piece together how you had arrived at this unfamiliar place.

"Thought I'd lost you again," the voice spoke, its timbre resonating with relief and lingering anxiety. You turned your head slowly, your neck stiff and uncooperative, to see the Ghoul sitting in a dusty armchair nestled in the corner of the room. He had one leg crossed over the other, and his hands were clenched into tight fists resting in his lap. His posture betrayed the tension that had not yet left him.

"You seem to have a nasty habit of getting away from me," he added, a faint, wry smile playing at the edges of his lips, softening the sternness that had settled over his features. The combination of relief and reproach in his eyes alluded to the worry he had endured. The dusty armchair creaked slightly as he shifted, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward, his gaze never leaving you.

Your lips parted to respond, but the pain and dryness in your throat silenced you, leaving only a strained whisper. The effort made your vision blur momentarily, and you felt a wave of dizziness threaten to pull you back under.

The Ghoul jumped from his seat, closing the distance between you in two swift strides. He grabbed a glass of water from the side table and held it to your lips. His hand gently rested underneath your chin, helping you tilt your head back into the pillow as you swallowed painfully. The cool water soothed your raw throat, each gulp easing the burning sensation and bringing a momentary relief from the discomfort. His gloved touch was surprisingly tender, his eyes filled with concern as he looked down at you.

"Easy now," he murmured, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. The rough exterior he usually presented was momentarily stripped away, revealing a depth of care you hadn't fully realized before. As you finished the water, he set the glass aside, his hand lingering on your chin before carefully adjusting the pillow behind your head, ensuring you were comfortable.

"Thanks," you managed to whisper, your voice still hoarse but filled with gratitude. "Guess you can't get rid of me, can you?" You joked, your voice light despite the underlying exhaustion. 

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Wouldn't want to," he replied, his tone gruff but softened by a note of sincerity. A flutter rose in your stomach at his words, and you felt an ache at the growing distance between you as he returned to his seat. Your fingers flexed against the bedsheet, wanting to reach out to him, but the memory of his words in the house still lingered.

The room seemed colder without his proximity, the silence stretching out once more. You watched him, noting the tension still evident in his posture, the way his hands clenched and unclenched restlessly in his lap. His gaze was fixed on some distant point, lost in thoughts you couldn't decipher.

As your eyes adjusted and began to focus, you took in more of the surroundings. You were in a bedroom, worn and slightly dishevelled. The vanity mirror across from the bed was cracked, its spiderweb fractures distorting the reflections it caught. A large, old wardrobe stood partially open, its doors unable to fully close, with clothes spilling out like colourful waterfalls onto the dusty floor.

The walls were faded, peeling wallpaper hinting at a time long past, while the floorboards creaked softly under any movement. A small nightstand next to the bed held your Pip-Boy and the empty glass. The bed you lay in had a wrought iron frame, rusted and showing signs of age, with a thin, threadbare quilt covering you. A faint scent of dust and age hung in the air, mingling with a lingering hint of antiseptic from recent efforts to clean and treat your injuries.

Despite its state, the room had a certain charm, a sense of having been lived in and cared for, even if that care had become sporadic over the years. The small details—a chipped teacup on the vanity, a child's drawing pinned to the wall—made it feel almost homely.

Your eyes widened in a flash of panic as you turned back to the Ghoul, but he cut you off before you could speak. "We aren't back there," he quickly interjected, his voice firm but reassuring, keen to alleviate your fears even momentarily. "We're safe."

His words settled some of the immediate panic, and you took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the present. Of course he hadn't taken you back to Mags' house, he'd wanted to get away from there almost as much as you had. Maybe more.

"Where are we?" you croaked, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Your gaze shifted to the window, where thin curtains let slivers of daylight filter through, casting faint patterns on the floor. The sounds of street vendors calling out their wares and distant bird calls drifted in, mingling with the occasional clatter of footsteps and murmured conversations from passers-by.

He shifted slightly in his seat, the gentle sunlight casting a warm glow on his worn features. "A makeshift clinic, managed by an old friend," he explained, his voice calm but laced with a hint of unease. "It's safe, for now." His eyes flickered towards the window, as if to reassure himself of the safety he promised, before returning to you with a determined expression.

He paused, his face reflecting deep thought as he carefully considered his next words. "You've been unconscious for almost two days," he disclosed, his voice heavy with the weight of the vigilance he had maintained while watching over you. His eyes were shadowed with exhaustion, the lines on his face more pronounced from the sleepless nights.

"You should have told me," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and concern. "How could you be so reckless to keep this to yourself?" His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away, the weight of his stare drilling into your conscience. The guilt welled up inside you, sharp and consuming, making your chest tighten with regret.

"I didn't want to bother you," you said softly.

He scoffed in response, rolling his eyes. "That's ridiculous," he muttered.

Narrowing your eyes in determination, you pushed yourself up to rest against the pillow, wincing slightly from the effort. The fabric rustled as you settled into a more upright position, your gaze locked onto his, the resolve in your eyes challenging the storm of emotions swirling in his.

"I'm tired of being a burden," you continued, your voice steadier now. The weight of your words hung in the air, the unspoken resentment evident in your tone. The room felt still, the sounds from outside momentarily fading as the intensity of the moment drew both of your focuses inward.

He shook his head, a sneer playing on his lips as he looked at you. "That's not your choice to make," he said, his tone carrying a cold edge. His eyes shifted away from you, staring out the window as if searching for answers in the distance.

The room seemed to grow colder, the sunlight no longer providing its gentle warmth but instead highlighting the tension between you. Each breath you took felt heavier than the last, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on both of you. The air was thick with emotions, and the distance between you felt insurmountable.

A chill ran through you, his words settling like a heavy weight in the space between you. "Seems I don't get much choice over anything nowadays," your voice wavered slightly, but you held his gaze when it snapped back to you, determined to confront him. You could see his jaw tighten, his eyes flickering with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite identify. Each second stretched out painfully as you waited for his response.

"If you've got a death wish, that's between you and that baby," he growled through clenched teeth, pointing at your pregnant belly. "But don't drag me into it. I'm not hauling my ass across the desert just for you to throw your life away at every turn," he spat, his words sharp and biting.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sunk in. "Glad to see where your priorities truly lie," you said, tears welling in your eyes. Anger surged through you at his insinuation. You didn't have a death wish—far from it. Since the bombings, you had fought tooth and nail to survive and to keep your baby safe, and he knew that.

His words felt like a betrayal. Whether he was trying to push you further away to save face or make it clear that he really did feel nothing for you, his harshness cut deep. The tears spilled over, tracing hot paths down your cheeks. "You know I've done everything to keep us alive," you continued, voice trembling with emotion. "I can't believe you'd think otherwise."

His eyes flickered with a brief moment of regret, but it was quickly masked by the anger that still lingered. "I'm just trying to keep you safe," he muttered, but the words felt hollow against the backdrop of your pain.

"I never wanted this!" you shouted, your voice cracking. "You captured me. I didn't ask for any of this!"

The anger and fear boiled over, and your desperate cries filled the room, making the air between you almost suffocating. The walls seemed to echo your words, amplifying the magnitude of the moment. His expression remained hard, but you could see a flicker of something cross them.

"You think I wanted this?" he shot back, his voice rising. "None of this was supposed to happen!"

"You should have just left me out there!" You cried, voice breaking under the weight of your anguish.

"I wish I did!" The raw emotion in his voice startling you as he stood up, his figure towering over you. The intensity of his words cut through your anger, slicing deep into your heart and leaving you both teetering on the brink of something irreversible. His face was flushed with a mixture of regret and pure fury, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes was a stark contrast to the harshness of his words.

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved pain. Each of you grappled with the complex web of emotions that bound you together, the weight of your shared past and uncertain future pressing down heavily.

You wrapped your arms protectively around your belly, your gaze dropping to the intricately patterned bedsheets. The delicate floral design blurred as tears welled up in your eyes. "Get out," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the sharp flinch of his jaw from the corner of your eye told you that he had heard you clearly.

The words felt like lead on your tongue, heavy and final, as you struggled to maintain your composure. The room, once a refuge, now felt like a battleground. You could sense his presence still looming over you, his conflicting emotions almost tangible in the air between you. The moment stretched, every second amplifying the tension.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you thought back to the memories you'd shared together. Each recollection felt like a dagger to the heart—the lingering gazes, the fleeting moments when you sought solace in his arms, the fragile bond you believed was forming between you. Perhaps it had all been a figment of your imagination, a desperate illusion in the midst of chaos.

The realization struck you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless and reeling. The weight of it pressed down on you, squeezing the air from your lungs and making your chest ache. You remembered the way his eyes would soften, the rare, fleeting smiles that had given you hope, the comforting warmth of his embrace. But now, those memories felt like cruel jokes, mocking your naïve belief in a connection that perhaps never truly existed.

The Ghoul sighed, running his tongue over his teeth as his gaze briefly flickered to the ground before locking back onto you. "What are you gonna do?" he asked, his tone softer but still edged with irritation. "Don't be so foolish; you wouldn't last a second out there alone."

"Maybe not, but that's no concern of yours," you retorted, refusing to meet his gaze. "If you don't want us, then we don't want you either." You placed a firm hand on the swell of your belly, feeling the life growing inside you.

A small flurry of movement, a determined kick from within, gave you a momentary pause. The sensation was both a reminder and a source of strength. You sniffed, drawing in a shaky breath, and willed your voice to work as you finally looked up at him through bleary eyes, the tears making everything a blur. "Leave," you commanded, your voice trembling but resolute.

He sighed again and moved toward you with an outstretched hand, but you stopped him mid-step. "Go! Get out!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls.

The Ghoul looked at you exasperatedly. "There's nothing for you here with me, do you understand? Dispel any romantic notions you have about me, darlin'. I am not a good man," he said, his eyes pleading with you. "But it doesn't mean I want you in harms way—far from it. Just listen to me, dammit."

His words cut through the air like a knife, sharp and final. "I said get out!" You shouted again, your hand gripped the Pip-Boy on the nightstand, and with a surge of adrenaline, you hurled it towards him. He ducked just in time, the metal device shattering against the wall behind him. Shards of glass and metal scattered across the floor, the sharp sound punctuating the tension in the room.

He straightened up, his eyes wide with shock. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by your heavy breathing. You sat there, chest heaving, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and desperation. The broken pieces of the Pip-Boy lay on the floor, a stark reminder of the irreparable rift between you.

"Just leave," you said, your voice now a raw whisper. "We don't need you." The determination in your eyes left no room for argument. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before turning and walking out of the room, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed through the stillness.

A few hours later, a knock on the door startled you from your sobs. The door creaked open, and an elderly man entered. His features bore the unmistakable signs of ghoulification: mottled, decaying skin and sunken eyes. Despite his unsettling appearance, his expression was warm and kind, a gentle smile softening the harsh lines of his face.

You eyed him warily as he stepped into the room, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he was conscious of not alarming you further. The contrast between his ghastly visage and the kindness in his eyes created a strange, almost disorienting juxtaposition, leaving you uncertain but cautiously hopeful.

"Good to see you awake," he greeted with a gentle smile, his voice carrying a soothing, raspy tone. He moved toward your bedside with a practiced ease that spoke of long experience and familiarity with such situations. His steps were steady and confident, his presence oddly comforting in the wake of the Ghoul's absence. 

He stopped next to you, his eyes briefly scanning the room before focusing on the IV bag connected to your arm. With expert hands, he adjusted the flow, his touch slow and precise. "Your friend said you were feeling better," he remarked, glancing back at you with a reassuring nod. "Looks like the RadAway is working," he commented, his tone imbued with calm confidence. 

The mention of 'your friend' had your eyes darting to the door, replaying the memory of him walking out of it hours before. A sudden dread gripped you as the realization struck: perhaps it really would be the last time you saw him. Why wouldn't it be? You'd told him to leave, said you didn't want him, which was only partially true.

The truth was more complicated. You wanted him. You undeniably craved his affection and needed his approval, but your stubbornness—almost a mirror of his own—kept you from admitting it. He had made it clear that he didn't want you, or at least that's what his words said. Yet, his actions often told a different story, leaving you confused and frustrated.

You weren't going to beg. Pride and self-respect wouldn't allow it, no matter how much your heart ached for him to come back. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, a storm of longing, pride, and hurt. You drew a shaky breath, pushing the thoughts aside as you refocused on the present, determined not to let your vulnerability show.

"Dry your eyes, pet," the doctor said softly, offering you a handkerchief from his pocket. You took it with a grateful smile, dabbed at your wet cheeks until you felt the tears ebb.

"Thank you," you whispered, watching as the yellow liquid filled the tube attached to your arm. "What is RadAway?" you queried, your eyes narrowing slightly with caution as the elderly ghoul continued his examination, his fingers pressing against your wrist to check your pulse.

"It's a medical treatment used to flush radiation from the body," he explained, his voice steady and informative. "It speeds up recovery, especially with injuries like yours." He paused, then gave you a concerned look. "It's essential out here. I'm surprised you don't know about it."

His eyes held a hint of curiosity, perhaps even worry, as he studied your reaction. The weight of his gaze made you acutely aware of your vulnerability and the gaps in your survival skills, but his tone remained kind, without a trace of judgment.

You sniffed and feigned a smile. "I'm still getting my bearings on the surface," you said, your voice small.

His eyes flickered with an unspoken understanding, a subtle nod acknowledging the enormity of adjusting to life above ground. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a sympathetic smile, and he placed a reassuring hand on your arm.

"That makes sense," he replied softly, his voice full of understanding. "It's a lot to take in, but you're lucky your friend got you here when he did. He almost woke the whole town with his hollering. I was in the middle of a quiet evening when the commotion started. I looked out the window and saw him rushing through the streets, carrying you in his arms. Poor feller, the colour drained straight from his face with all the worry—well, as much as it can drain from us irradiated folk."

He paused, shaking his head slightly with a wry smile. "He was frantic, you know, practically bursting through the door, demanding help. I've seen people in desperate situations before, but the way he looked at you... It was clear you mean a lot to him."

The doctor's words painted a vivid picture, but you shook your head, dispelling the hopeful image he conjured. The Ghoul's actions came about as a result of you flaking out on him during his urgency to get away from that house. Despite wanting to believe otherwise, you reminded yourself that you didn't mean anything to him.

"He was just trying to get away," you murmured, more to yourself than to the doctor. "I collapsed, and he didn't have a choice."

The doctor studied you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe," he conceded gently, "but actions speak louder than words. Sometimes, people show they care in ways they can't admit to themselves."

You didn't respond, letting his words linger in the air as he pulled a rusted stethoscope from his coat, preparing to listen to your heart. The cold metal pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of your conflicting thoughts.

As the doctor listened intently, you couldn't help but replay the moments of the Ghoul's protectiveness in your mind. The anguish on his face when he found you at the house, the curl of his finger beckoning you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you lost yourself in his touch. Had you really imagined those moments? The ones before those? They felt as real as the beat of your heart pounding against your chest at the thought of them.

The tenderness in his eyes, the security of his embrace—it all seemed too genuine to be mere figments of your imagination. Yet, his harsh words and actions contradicted those fleeting instances of connection, leaving you in a state of confusion and doubt.

But sometimes, kind words did slip through. You remembered what he had said hours ago, before the shouting: you had told him that he couldn't get rid of you, and his response had been a soft admission, almost lost in the tension of the moment. "Wouldn't want to," he'd said.

You were so hurt by his past rejection, by his constant pushing you away rather than addressing any feelings he may harbour, that you didn't stop to consider, in the heat of the moment, that perhaps you were doing the exact same thing when you told him to leave.

The doctor finished his examination and removed the stethoscope, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Your heart sounds strong," he said, his tone reassuring. "Physically, you're doing better. But don't ignore what's happening inside here," he added, gently tapping his temple.

You nodded absently, his advice barely registering as you continued to grapple with your emotions. The lines between reality and wishful thinking blurred, and you found yourself longing for clarity in the midst of the turmoil.

"Would you like me to check?" he asked, gesturing to your stomach that you still hugged protectively. You blinked, slow to understand until he mouthed 'the baby.' He was a genuine doctor, or as close to one as you could find in the wastelands. The individuals who had held you captive in the vault were more torturers disguised as scientists than actual healers. However, the risk of revealing your pregnancy was not lost on you, especially after recent events.

His hands stilled as he met your gaze with an understanding that seemed to stretch beyond the typical patient-doctor exchange. It was evident he had a wealth of experience dealing with the unique challenges of the wasteland, a far cry from the so-called doctors of your past who had hidden cruelty behind their clinical masks.

"Yes please," you replied, your voice tinged with apprehension. You hesitated, weighing the risk of revealing too much against the need to know your child's fate. "Is my baby okay? Can you tell me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laden with the weight of your worries and hopes.

The elderly ghoul's expression softened further, and he nodded slowly, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. "Let's take a look," he said gently, reaching for a small, somewhat battered handheld device from his bag. He moved the device slowly over your abdomen, his eyes focused intently on the faint screen.

After a moment, he looked up, a small smile breaking through his weathered features. "From what I can see, your baby seems to be doing just fine," he announced softly. "The heartbeat is strong and steady. You're both fighters, that's clear."

Relief washed over you upon hearing the doctor's reassuring words, easing some of the persistent tension that had gripped you since you regained consciousness. Your eyes instinctively sought the Ghoul's, and your heart dropped at the sight of the empty chair.

"A few more days of rest and you should be back on your feet," the doctor said, gently covering your stomach with the thin sheet. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of pills. "Take one a day with food, and if you come into contact with any large bouts of radiation, double the dose until you can get some RadAway," he instructed, handing you the bottle.

The torn label read Rad-X, and you turned it in your hand, trying to decipher the rest of the words. The doctor watched you with a patient expression, his gaunt features softening as he spoke. "Rad-X is used to increase your resistance to radiation," he explained, his voice steady. "It’s different from RadAway, but just as important, especially with your...relations," he finished, and your cheeks burned at his insinuation.

You thanked the doctor when he promised to check on you again soon before leaving the room. As the door closed behind him, you sighed and settled back into your pillow. Relief washed over you knowing your baby was healthy, but the sense of being on your own left your heart heavy. The room felt both too big and too small, the deafening silence pressing in on you as you stared at the Rad-X label, contemplating the uncertain future that lay ahead.

You didn't see the Ghoul after that, but a supply of RadAway and bullets appeared on your bedside table. The sight of the neatly arranged supplies made you pause, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. You assumed it was his doing, imagining him sneaking in during the night amidst the few hours you'd managed to sleep. The thought of him moving silently through the darkened room, leaving behind the essentials you needed, brought a bittersweet pang to your heart.

A woman named Ada, who you had come to learn was the owner of the establishment, dropped in regularly to bring you warm meals. They were hearty and nourishing, intended to build your strength, but your appetite was often suppressed by the weight of your thoughts and the loneliness that settled in your heart. Ada's gentle encouragement and understanding smile were small comforts in the otherwise stark and quiet room.

She chatted with you during her visits, sharing stories about the settlement and its inhabitants, giving you a glimpse of the life that awaited you once you were well enough to leave the confines of your room, if you were to stay in town. Her tales painted a picture of a tight-knit community, resilient and resourceful, each person playing a vital role in their collective survival.

"The Ghoul, he's gone," she informed you on morning, her voice gentle but firm. "I do hope you'll consider staying. He's covered your keep for more than enough time." She rested her hand on your shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. "It's not safe out there alone."

Her words hit you like a wave, the reality of his absence sinking in. The weight of his generosity and care pressed heavily on your heart. Her eyes were filled with concern, reflecting the danger that awaited beyond the safety of this town, and her kindness was a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil, a reminder that you still had allies even in his absence.

"Thank you, Ada," you said, offering her a smile despite the worry inside of you. "But I have to go."

The morning sun cast a gentle glow on her face, highlighting the kindness in her eyes. She nodded, her own smile reflecting a mixture of pride and concern. "Where will you go?"

You eyed the map in your hands, the one you had taken from the Ghoul the day you left to find the vials. Your eyes traced the path that led to the haven, a route marked with careful notations and warnings. The map had become a lifeline, a tangible connection to him and his meticulous planning.

During the last few days of your bedrest, you had spent hours poring over it, mapping out your journey, and planning stops for resting and loading up on supplies. The intricate details on the map showed the effort he had put into ensuring your safety on your journey to the haven, each mark a testament to his care.

It wasn't until that morning, as you packed your bag and ran your hand over the tattered paper, that your resolve solidified. The realization that he had crafted this map specifically for you, considering every possible danger and refuge along the way, filled you with a bittersweet determination.

"I'm going to find him," you told her, your eyes steely with persistence as you adjusted your backpack over your shoulder. "There are some things I left unsaid," you finished, your voice resolute. 

You hugged her goodbye and thanked the doctor for his car on your way out. When you left the clinic, your gun felt heavier on your hip, the burden of not having the Ghoul there for your protection weighing it down.

Navigating through the bustling streets, you kept a firm grip on the map, each step taking you further from the comfort of Ada and the doctor's care and deeper into the unknown. Vendors continued to call out, their voices blending into a distant hum as you made your way toward the town's edge.

As you reached the outskirts of the town, the lively sounds of the marketplace faded behind you, replaced by the vast silence of the open desert. You paused for a moment, breathing deeply, taking in the endless expanse of sand and scrub stretching out before you. The horizon shimmered with heat, the sun high and relentless in the sky.

You questioned whether you were making the right choice in attempting to find the Ghoul. The vast, treacherous wasteland stretched out in every direction, offering countless places for him to disappear. He could have gone anywhere, but deep down, you felt certain that he wouldn't retrace his steps. He would likely stay as far away from Mags' home as possible, avoiding any place with too many memories or potential danger.

Then, the hairs on your arm stood to attention at the familiar sound of spurs jingling on the ground behind you. The distinct, rhythmic clinking sent a surge of recognition through you, and a hopeful smile began to tug at your lips. However, before you could turn around, the cold, unyielding metal of a gun barrel pressed firmly against your temple, sending a chill down your spine and freezing you in place.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart pounded in your chest, the sudden shift from hope to fear almost too much to process. The coolness of the barrel contrasted starkly with the warmth of the sun on your skin.

"I'll ask you this just once," a rough voice growled from behind, the command filled with menace. "Where is Cooper Howard?"

Taglist: @cheshirecat484 @lothiriel9 @ancientbeing10 @maeplaysbass @moon-trash1507 @rebelmarylou @giggle-shade @skrzydlak

(if you have been removed from the taglist it is because your blog does not show an age)

[sailorblossoms]

Simon knows Baz is the love of his life by 19. He escalates so fucking fast even before realizing he wants Baz (progressively touching him more and more after the truce) (quickly asking to be boyfriends after kissing him, who cares about all the years being conditioned to see him as An Enemy!!). And yeah, he has always just wanted a family… so no way he’s going to be even half a decade with Baz without wanting marriage popping up – the idea itself is already out there in SFC (“we could be married with children”) and Simon escalates quickly…

Unfortunately I’m posting because I have some comphet thoughts here (I can focus on the not fun part since I took that “Simon is probably already married by 26” “how would proposing go” tweets as Word Of God confirming snowbaz is married lol) (always feel like I’m getting jump scared when the relationship with Agatha is mentioned in a snowbaz moment such as this so I cope by analyzing, what can I say)

Comphet for Simon is very specifically about craving for a home and a family (security and stability, belonging). He matches Baz there in a way too, as comphet for Baz is also about family… because for Baz is about heirs. However, Baz is the only one who’s ever thinking “having heirs implies having sex with a girl and getting her pregnant,” and because he thinks he can identify that even the idea makes him feel sick, that he doesn’t want that, that it would be miserable for him and that girl, and so he’s able to walk away when an opportunity to be with a girl presents itself.... but a big part of that it's not just thinking and processing (overthinking by itself won't save you from the crushing weight of societal expectations) but rather... Baz has a family. The expectation of having a traditional family is caging for Baz, but having a family who loves him provides him with the confidence, strength, and security necessary to be able to resist pressure, even if that pressure is coming from his own family. Without Daphne, who softens Malcolm, and his siblings in his life, would he have that? Or would he have been more like Simon, who's exposed and neglected to such extremes he will do anything – no matter how wrong or uncomfortable – just to not feel that way anymore?

Simon defines the entirety of his relationship with Agatha as just going through the motions – neither is thinking outside of the need to belong and conform to expectations. They’re not processing their shit – Agatha breaks things off as soon as she starts to… and she’s direct in her thoughts because she is starting to process, and Simon gives things away indirectly isn’t because he’s not processing unless there's a trigger (such as wanting Baz to understand him more, even if he himself hasn't figured things out yet, or Baz expressing he believes Simon truly wanted Agatha romantically or sexually, which feels wrong for Simon because it wasn't true). Comphet tells a boy like Simon that the only way to get a family is "to settle down with a nice girl." He literally doesn't think there's any choice – that's the only path forward. Believing in the HEA is not about believing he could be happy with Agatha ("that's where my life will begin," he says, giving away that he hasn't been happy dating Agatha, nor does he even think he's living while being with her) (which is nothing personal but rather "that's how dating someone who's wrong for you/comphet feels like" and "that's how it feels like for Simon to be in love and attracted to Baz but to be with someone else because he's not able to figure that out"... it's miserable). Using the HEA as comfort, even though his true belief is that he's going to die before it ever got to that, is about believing "I can have a family"... even if he can't visualize how he wants that family to look like (outside of fantasies about his parents) because he doesn't think. And that's key, I think.

Simon is not thinking so he's not really visualizing. There are some logical conclusions to going through the motions such as "what job will I get and what house, will the doc help" which is more about housing and "how will I sustain myself, supposing I live, which I doubt anyway" which aligns with how Simon is just surviving. But Simon is not ever thinking about Agatha having his children – he never thinks about Agatha sexually, never. We have Baz's exact body proportions and you wouldn't know what size or shape to draw Agatha's breasts with Simon's POV (who supposedly "likes women because he's not mad about big breasts meaning he's a boob person" according to some – I for one call that confirmation bias and see the entire boob affair as proof he doesn't) "Previous sexual partners" gender neutral and plural makes it harder for you to associate the idea of sex with Agatha, doesn't it. It probably distracted you, even. The guy tellingly covers himself, doesn't want to be left in a room with her alone while half-naked, and self-harms through talking about having sex with her – that shit is on purpose. All of this is to say: Simon is not thinking what Baz thinks (which is part of why he does it, even though he doesn't want to).

Simon wants a family, but he's not thinking about Agatha having his children. Everyone and their moms assume "I'm gonna marry that person" automatically means "I'm gonna have children with them as well," and that's part of comphet here, but Simon doesn't process. Neither does Agatha (part of why they dated). You gotta remember how young they are too (how a kid's idea of marriage is – how much copying what they see without processing is involved as they don't have the tools to know shit – compared to a grown-up.)

"Simon was set to marry Agatha because he wanted to believe he could have a family" is not in contradiction with "but he didn't really it was going to happen as he would kick the bucket soon." And in practice? I think Simon being with Agatha because he wants a family wasn't really about building a family with her, but rather, about being a part of the family she already has. When Simon shares why he wants to date Agatha, he's projecting things onto her (like being protected, untouched) and sharing not that he wanted her, but that he wanted to be like her. When he shares everything he loves about going to Agatha's house, he mentions the nice comfortable house (the tv!) and the adults in it, and Agatha is glaringly missing from that list. It's not ever "love to spend time with good ol' Agatha" but we do get "Agatha" and "trapped in that house together" in the same sentence. Agatha the friend might be family like Penny (in a page where we should be hearing why he doesn't want to lose her as a girlfriend, he goes on and on about how said it would be if they're no longer friends) but Agatha the girlfriend is more of a door or a "device." When they break up, the list of things Simon gives to explain why that upsets him includes Agatha's parents, but not Agatha herself.

Through dating Agatha, Simon was trying to feel part of a family... but not because he ever had any intention of building something with her. But because Simon wanted to feel like a son. You assume kids come with marriage, but in the marriage-parents-children circle, Simon always wanted to be in the role of the child. It's never been about being a parent with Agatha, but about being a son. It's part of why it feels so triggering when Penny's mom seems to be rejecting him (and so he can't spend Christmas in her house).

It's part of why Simon's reaction to "we could be married with kids" "could we?" – that italicized could giving the impression this is a new idea, perhaps something to be questioned as "is it possible?" ... I don't think this is about "can gay men have this?".... I think this is Simon's first time looking at marriage like "a grown-up." Considering marriage and children while fully conscious he would be in the role of married father, and not the child. And Simon wants to build something with Baz. Simon never thought of the future outside of comforting himself with the idea that he could have a family (any family) so his "inevitable death" doesn't feel paralyzingly sad (which also tells you he didn't truly see Agatha as his future – there was none – even if admitting that would have been difficult then...).

Simon never thinks about building something... until he's with Baz. Realizing that Baz is the love of all his lives, and that a future without Baz is unbearable, and that he wants him in his bed every night, and that he enjoys the domesticity of furnishing a house with him.... it inevitably leads to "Baz is my home and my future" and what's "figuring it out he wants to get married" after that?

[sunarc]

cock worship w suna,,, *walks away*

A/N: This is so nastyyyyy I like it 🌚

tw: oral(male receiving)

This is his favorite way to see you, on your knees, mouth full drool seeping down the sides of your mouth while you struggle to take him. You were pleading so much just to have your mouth stuffed. He couldn’t deny you, hell he’d be damned if he missed an opportunity to see you on your knees tear streaked face gurgling on his cock.

“You're so pretty like this” his eyes stared down at you mesmerized by the sight before him.

You sat on your knees completely naked, chest covered in his cum. If he was being honest his legs were growing weak from how many orgasm you had pulled from him but each time you begged him to let you keep sucking. It was as if you needed him, as if not having him in your mouth gagging you with his length would be the death of you.

“You’re so needy” he groaned as he threw his head back

“You were on your hands and knees begging whining for my cock and now you can barely even fit it in your mouth” he chuckled as he watched your mouth form a wide ‘o’ shape just to fit the tip in.

It was as if you were in a trance. Your eyes were blown wide and the only thing on your mind was hearing him call you his good baby for taking all of him.

“That’s it just a little more baby i know you can take it deeper” his groans were so deep.

Any other moment you probably would’ve whined about how big it was, how you could barely fit it in your mouth but the way his words sounded so desperate as if needing you to fit his whole cock in your mouth sent a wave of determination through your body.

You felt your breath slowly slipping away as you slid him deeper and deeper moaning around his member. His pleasure was your pleasure. You looked up at him watching as his body trembled softly the deeper you took him. You bobbed your head slowly wanting to tease him just a bit.

“Faster baby… now” his demand came out in a weak breath.

You loved how easily you could make him lose his mind.Sloppy wet sounds filled the room mixing in with his grunts and groans of pleasure. His hand gripped your hair tugging you up and down on his cock.

“So fucking good, so wet, so perfect” his whimpers were soft barely heard over the sounds of him plunging his cock into your mouth.

“Fuck- i’m so sorry for how im about to abuse this pretty mouth of yours doll”

Before you could respond his hands were gripping the sides of your face holding you in place as his cock plunged in and out of your mouth at a sloppy pace. His balls slapped against your chin but all you could focus on was how deep he was going.

“Shit, shit, shit taking my cock so fucking well” he voice was shaking.

He was close and you could tell from the way he could barely contain the string of curses mixed with your name that fell past his lips.

“I’m gonna- fuck you better swallow every drop you understand me” he words came out as a deep growl.

His movement halted with his cock so deep in your mouth you could feel the tip of your nose touching his pelvis. He was trembling as loud groans left him while he emptied his hot seed down your throat leaving you no choice but to swallow.

“You're draining me doll, I'm not gonna have much left” he chuckled breathlessly.

He pulled himself free from your mouth allowing himself to catch his breath. You stared up at him with a blissful smile still desperately needing more of him.

“Just one more time please”

How could he ever say no to his baby?

Characters:

Suna, Atsumu, Daichi, Kuroo, Zoro, Ace, Ony, Connie, Toji, Nanami

[misfitgirlwrites]

Lucifer Having A Crush On You/How Would He React?

I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'm not biased, I'M NOT--

It's time for my fictional love and life and all I hold dear in my daydreams. Bitches, bros, nonbinary hoes, and genderfluid fucks, I present to you the Big Dick in Charge

I may reference works that I've read and when I do I'll drop their @ and link to their story it is law that you read it if you read mine, I don't make the rules

CW: none, slightly angsty but nothing too intense!

Alright, doves, this is post-season one. Lucifer now resides in the hotel with everyone and is slowly adjusting to being graced with Alejandro's Alastor's presence every day.

Let's be honest, our baby pays attention but puts in minimal effort. Saying that the days went by in a blur would be an understatement. Even conversations would be forgotten after a few short moments. On to the next task. Full focus on this thing. Once that's done? Well onto the next task! No tasks? Free time to spend with Charlie!

Things would start slow, and to really interact, you'd most likely start to approach him first. Maybe you've spent long enough watching the blond anxiously bounce around the hotel and graciously give himself a bit too much for even the Big Boss of Hell.

A timid approach from you, offering to help with whatever he's currently doing. Maybe you make snacks for everyone in the hotel and hand him his personally :)

And so it begins! A greeting here, a greeting there, slightly awkward conversations that slowly start to feel less forced with the little information you learn about each other along the way.

It's...nice! Refreshing! Lucifer would be more excited than anything and talking to you would become a part of his regular routine without much thought on the matter. You'd occasionally be on his mind just a little more, and he'd start to seek you out himself too.

I know you're already seeking him out. Bitch I'M seeking him out.

Helping with chores around the hotel quickly turns into simply enjoying the other's company.

One day you gift him his very own ceramic duck! You could have paid for it from somewhere or made it yourself.

Either way, he'd fucking LOVE it! Honestly, if you decide to try your hand at making it, he'd love it even more with all the rough edges and little bumps (it was made out of love for my babies who never touched clay in their lives)

In response, please expect many gifts in return. I like to think it's been a while since he's gotten a genuine gift like this

(Bonus headcanon: Charlie will see this and will come to you the next day with a list of things she wants to gift him and you two are unofficially officially the Buy Lucifer Anything Duck-Themed duo)

Lucifer loves how you react when he gifts you your very own rubber duck. Your smile and happiness always seemed contagious to him. It only led to him making/getting you more things.

You will have a rubber duck collection by the end of this, but what can you really say? Each one of them is based on something you mentioned before. A movie character, a book character, a cartoon character, even friends or family members if they were mentioned. The gesture is way too sweet for you to turn down, even if it is the 30th duck you've received.

Now prepare for what I like to call the "get along t-shirt" phase but both parties are willing LMAO.

Lucifer will be by your side as long as you'll accept the company and if you're reading this and we brain the same, that will be all the time.

I love the GenZ!Reader memes and fics. Someone show this man bacon pancakes and if it was already done, SHOW ME.

Between his relationship with Charlie and with you, Lucifer actually feels the need and wants to be a little more present bit by bit. He notices that he is spending less time in his head, but he continues on in fear of fucking it up if he thinks too hard about it.

So instead he'll 100% focus on the little familiarity of happiness, as small as those moments may be sometimes. This is EXACTLY why the thought of him potentially feeling romantic interest again goes right over his head.

Who notices first, you ask? Charlie, of course. You slowly but surely became one of his main topics in conversation, it wasn't hard for her to pick up on it and ask.

Baby boy would straight up deny it at first. Him?? Liking someone else??? LMAO, am I right? Of course, after he does this, he'll have the time to actually pay attention to his actions.

So then he'll notice how excited he is every morning knowing that you'll be the first face he sees. He'll notice how he managed to fit you into any task he had to do. When he'd get lunch for himself and Charlie he'd have the automatic thought of making something for you as well. Even when the day was over, he'd be thinking about spending the next day with you. To be frank, you were constantly on his mind. 

Once he notices it's a big mental "fuck". Nothing about you is wrong of course, it's him, or so he thinks.

Let's start with the elephant in the room, or shall I say the ring on his finger lmao

In Lucifer's mind, he's still married technically. Even thinking about it in a technical term was a new development and it made him feel absolutely horrible. Lilith left, sure, but who knows what happened? Regardless of how he felt, he didn't want to hurt her.

But at the same time what about him? Lucifer hasn't been happy in a long time and he's finally building that again, not just with Charlie, but with you as well. He didn't want to just cut you out, he didn't want to hurt you either.

Plus, did you even like him? How would he even approach you? If he wanted to, even after thinking about everything.

Who was he kidding, of course, he still wanted you!

@liveontelevision *drops to my knees and bows* they worded it extremely well here and if you're reading this but you haven't read this already or you clicked the link then clicked back here, go back and read it. I don't care how long it is. Do the thing then come back.

Welcome back. It was good, wasn't it? I know.

The only awkward period for you two is the week-long contemplation of everything (half him attempting not to do what he always does when stressed but by the time he realizes he already made like 30 ducks--)

He would clearly go out of his way to either try and talk to you or avoid you. Or a cute mixture of both where he makes a scene approaching you, realizes he's not ready yet, then makes a scene so he can disappear *finger guns*

A little crisis here, a few little rubber ducks there, and a looooonnnggg conversation with Charlie and Maggie Vaggie.

Those are the ingredients to a semi-stable Lucifer with enough bravado to talk to you normally again.

He'd apologize for the times he basically pulled a Houdini in your face and he'd explain himself fully, all while also confessing his love for you.

It's choppy, it's fast-paced in some areas, and the poor blond was ready to disappear at any given moment, but that's what made it so real for you.

The weight that's lifted off of him couldn't be described, and neither could the joy that welled in him the moment he saw your beautiful smile and heard nothing but your acceptance and love.

What an emotional roller-coaster, am I right?

Lucifer Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @heart-of-the-morningstar

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Lucifer or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[brokenpieces-72]

I READ “Reunion” AND OOOOOO

HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT TO READER GETTING CAPTURED AND SOMETHING HAPPENING WITH HER PARENTS???? 👀👀

So admittedly this was going to be a future story. For some extra context, the reader's father I haven't decided whether he exists yet or not, but the mother is... admittedly also undecided in terms of what she is. When I started writing this I intended it to be a drabble and now it’s… yep. Enjoy!

Reset

Massive trigger warning!!! Abuse, kidnapping, torture, poor eating mentions, cannibalism, angst, let me know if I missed anything.

First and foremost you know they tried, all of them. You saw it before everything went dark. Johnny was screaming for you, ready to tear everything apart just to keep you safe. He didn't care who the bitch was, you were his sister. Konig already was tearing everything apart, only he didn't notice your situation until it was to late. The cadejos had nabbed some shadows to rip up with Alejandro and Horangi grabbing at more, trying to restrain themselves from just ripping into them. As you were taking off, Kyle went so far as to try and chase after you, but had his wings shot at, making you scream and fight to try and help him. Ghost had been too far away to try and grab at the heli. Price would have burned the whole thing down but you were inside, and not fire resistant.

Seconds after they'd lost you, Hunter got Kyle into the infirmary to fix his wings but they were still garbage. The entire team is anxious and worried about you. They'd all learned as much as they could about your relationship with your mother but could only imagine what she wanted from you now.

Simon wasted no time. He dragged thrall after thrall into interrogation, demanding answers of where they could be taking you. Being brutal and pissed he put any humans they were able to take alive in the room to show he wasn't playing around. If a thrall wasn't willing to talk, the human better be ready to scream and beg.

Price and Laswell and working around the clock to get everything they can on your mother from medical records, to bank statements. The two friends are keeping each other calm, as best as they can when they are as fired up as they are. Laswell has to step out of the room more than once because of Price releasing smoke to keep himself from getting too heated.

To the surprise of many, Horangi contacts KorTac. He's getting information on... well anything. While he keeps to himself, he can't deny your presence hasn't been welcoming. The team was up in arms, and the last thing he wanted was to sit around and do nothing while he waited for this to be fixed. KorTac can look into any jobs or contracts they may have gotten from Graves or your mother as a one off. Maybe someone gave up information thinking it was just an innocent missing persons report. Maybe your mother had tried contacting KorTac before Graves. Whatever he can get to make this go faster.

Alejandro and Rudolfo did the same, contacting other bases to see if they may have run into Graves or thralls recently. If they mapped out previous locations they could find a pattern. They even went back to facility where they'd first encountered your mother, seeing if there could be any signs of where she might have gone. Aside from that they had taken the initiative of running everything on base, giving the rest of the team more time to focus on you.

Kyle is pissed because he couldn't do anything to help. His wings were too damaged to fly anytime soon. All he could do was join Alejandro and Rudolfo on recon. He hated wasn't about to just sit, wait and heal. He wanted to help now. Alejandro and Rudolfo aren't about to stop him either.

Konig became restless, and the percht was practically beating against him. It wanted nothing but violence, blood and revenge. Konig just wanted his little friend back. You'd helped him even when there seemed to be no hope.

As for Johnny... it's something everyone gives him space for. Simon is one of the few who approaches him. He's restless and the full moon approaching makes it worse. All the wold wants to do is to find you, and Jonny wants the same. Sleep is near impossible, and he's started going to your room in order to do so. Your scent is still there, smelling like earth, grass and pine. If he isn't trying to find you, it's like he's trying to remember you. After 24 hours of you being gone Simon found him.

"Did you tell your mom?" He asked. Johnny looked up from where he was sitting on your bed. Simon was in the doorway looking at him, mask off for once. The question is one Johnny never wanted to think about. Telling his mother he'd lost her new baby. Johnny just stares down at his hands. Simon comes in and sits next to him on the bed, picking up a small plushie. The last thing Johnny needed was his pessimism. Simon didn’t have high hopes for you but he wasn’t going to give up on helping you. Johnny still hasn’t said anything so Simon took out his phone and offered it to Johnny.

“You need her too.” He said. Johnny took out his own phone, and dialed his mother. Simon stood up to leave but Johnny asked him to stay. He didn’t want to be alone for this.

The call goes well at first. It’s short-lived. As soon as Johnny told his mother you were taken Simon could hear her asking questions. Johnny answered as much as he could but regretfully most of the answers were “I don’t know”. By the end of it, he was fighting tears, with Simon putting a hand on his shoulder. Johnny’s mother asked Johnny how he was doing, and if he was okay. He was fine. He was going to find you. He promised. He hangs up and his breathing is unsteady. Simon didn't say anything or move to comfort him knowing a lot was going on underneath the surface. Johnny was honest enough to tell him if he needed it. There was silence for a while until Johnny took a deep breath.

"What kind of a shite brother am I?" He wondered aloud.

"One that will find his sister even if he has to do it barehanded," Simon answered. Johnny looked at him. Simon looked back and just gave him a nod.

For a while, you thought every moment you had experienced, every smile, every joy, every triumph, every bad day, every victory... you thought it had all been some mental episode of escapism. A dream your mind had put you in to save you from the torment of your mother. You don't know how much time has past, but it's been long enough for her to try and starve you and feed you more raw flesh. The more feral part of you is starving and ravenous. You want to eat so bad but you know Graves probably put something in it to make your feral state more powerful. You're chained to the wall with a collar and cuffs on your ankles and wrists. Waking up had sent you into a panic attack where you passed out. When you woke up again, the food was there, staring at you with vacant eyes. Dead bodies were not something new to you, but in this setting it just awoke you trauma. This wasn't the first time you'd fought your hunger. You turned away facing the wall, trying to hold your breath so you wouldn't smell the carcass. You held your nose when you needed another breath. Next you took the chains and wrapped them around your limbs to make them shorter. You knaw on your shirt to resist.

Then your mother came in. Your spine went frozen, your whole body tensed, and your held sped through the horrible moments her voice awoke. The way she talks is like burning sugar.

"Hello my little bunny." She said, soothingly. It's not soothing, she is not soothing, the only thing she would soothe was her own heinous actions. Little bunny was her name for you. You didn't know your own name because she would just give you pet names. All you want right now is to do the same thing you had done to innocent people who got lost in the woods. She'd set you on them, letting you hunt to the feral monster's content. "Come on, I want to see you. Can you look at me? I want to see how much you've grown. They took you away from me, my sweet girl."

No. They saved you. There had been missing person reports pointing to the woods you'd grown up in. A hunter came, properly armed to deal with hybrids, with some blurry photos capturing your image. He'd saved you with his hunting party. They'd found you feasting on an elk, starting to come back to your normal state. When you tried to flee, a hunter shot you, wounding you. You curled up on the ground they gave you a sedative. You were too small, and they weren't about to kill a kid who was probably just running on instincts. They saved you from your mother, continuing to search the woods.

Your mother moved closer, voice staying motherly and warm. "Please sweetheart? I'm sorry it had to be like this. I just wanted you back."

No more. You wouldn't give her anything. You didn't care what punishment she would give you. Whether it was burns or cuts you wouldn't give in. Your whole body shivered and tensed up as you felt her gentle hands on your shoulder and back, kneeling behind you. Your mother rubbed your back and shoulders, trying to coax your body to relax. When she tried to tug on your shoulders, to pry open your balled up position, you yank away.

"How did you get tangled up like that?" She asked noticing your efforts to keep you from the food. You don't look at her but you can hear her shuffling. There was a horrible wet sound as she moved back to you. You covered your nose, breathing through your teeth, as she tried to give you the meat. "Come on sweetie you need to eat. You want to be big and strong for mommy don't you."

You cowered, blindly swatting and pushing her away. In any other context her reaction would be that of a mother trying to keep her child from hitting her. You know it's a facade, the setting was evidence of that. "Now now bunny don't hit your mother."

"YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER!!" You shrieked at her. The wendigo, the guardian state could be heard within your voice. Your mother stopped.

"B-but... l-little bunny-"

"I'm not your little bunny you fucking bitch! You are not my fucking mother! You are nothing but a psychopath who made me eat the closest thing I had to a friend! I'm not your daughter!" You yelled, not looking up at her, head covered by your legs.

"I know baby, I know, I am so sorr-"

"No! No you're not! If you were sorry you would stay behind bars! You would have moved on when you got out! You would have walked away knowing how much damage you did." You argued. There was no excuse for the crimes she had committed. Your mother didn't say anything for a while. You heard her toss the meat to the floor.

"Fine," she said, sounding like she was biting back heartbreak. "We can try again tomorrow. Please eat something though. I don't want you to starve."

"That's exactly what you want." You said, your voice overflowing with poison.

From then on, the routine continued, with a new body put in every other day or so. Your mother continued to coax you to eat, giving you kind and gentle praises. She's changed truly, she just wanted her cute little bunny girl back, her precious baby. Then she tried gaslighting you, burning and cutting your skin, only to hurry away to retrieve a first aid kit, acting like you'd come to her with a scraped knee. Oh dear did you scratch yourself too hard? Don't worry she'll fix it. Do you want mama to kiss it better? No? Then she'll get Mr. Graves to come in and talk to you about the mean things you did to his thralls. Maybe he can get you to eat something too. Open wide, here comes to airplane. Don't spit it out!

It goes on... and on... and on...

Your stomach churned. Food you need food... there's some right there. You don't smell anything wrong with it... no... no not again...

When Price found you... damn. You were back to your feral state but this seemed to be worse. Blood drunk, but hopefully not on Graves tainted shit. It had taken them some time, too much time to track you down. Right now Johnny and König were making for a good distraction tearing into the thralls in fully shifted forms, Johnny having the full moon on his side. Kyle, now fully healed and flying again was keeping overwatch dive bombing anyone who might try to take up a sniper position. Rudolfo had the cadejos tracking your scent. Horangi was keeping Hunter safe, using the clouds for their cover. Simon was moving through the bunker looking for two other people, Graves and your mother, shadows keeping him from being noticed. Of course he also yanked a few thrall into them, as they tried to make it out to Soap and Konig.

"Captain, what's your status?" Alejandro asked through comms.

"I found the target." Price said. "Soap keep on the thrall. Lieutenant, what's your location?"

"South Hallway." Ghost replied, voice quiet.

"Have you located the other targets?" He asked, holstering his gun slowly approaching. Your blank white eyes looked up at him, and you launched yourself at him. Your chains snapped taut, making you fall back. Shit. You were still yanking and pulling on your chains to try and reach the fresh food that had stepped into your cell.

"Not yet. Wait, the cadejos may have found something." Simon replied. Before Price could get Simon's help, Alejandro came up beside him. He stepped back when you tried to lunge at him next.

"Fucking hell." He said under his breath.

"Horangi, get Hunter to our location, east side, second floor." Price said.

"Copy." Hunter said.

"She needs to be restrained." Price said. They needed to wait for Hunter, but until then you needed to be pinned down. Alejandro understood shifting to the jaguar form and stalking in. The meat was coming closer. You shrieked, getting on all fours, watching him closely. The meat kept his eyes locked with yours. It's growling, it won't let you eat without a fight. You screech back at the meat, encouraging some play before you feasr. Your body tightens in a crouch as you move back a little, readying yourself. You strike, but you can't. A huge weight is put on your back and you thrash around. Your arms are pinned behind you. No! You're hungry! You have fresh food right in front of you! Price wasn't about to let you enjoy Las Almas cuisine. Alejandro backed away the moment Price put his full weight on top of you. Hunter arrived a few minutes later, and Horangi stayed close. One sedative wasn't enough. Two wasn't enough. They gave it time, ut you weren't relaxing fast enough. One more. The world slowly goes dark. Hungry... you're still hungry.

You're released from the chains, but bound in them again. Simon acquired a blanket after trying to pursue your mother. He had a feeling he knew what Graves was actually doing and what was going on with your mother but he could wait. You're the priority. Your unconscious body was rolled up in the blanket, with the chains wrapped around to keep you restrained if you woke up. Johnny was demanding updates to your status, still outside with König, waiting on orders. Price ordered them to head to evac, and they had the target restrained. Johnny didn't like that answer but doesn't argue.

When he finally saw you, Gaz made sure to be in between you and Johnny. Johnny got out of the chopper and came over, back to his human state, clothes destroyed. Price wasn't about to deny his sergeant, even when he wasn't shifted. Johnny took you from Price and held you tight. The look on his face was focused as he got back in the heli, and the whole ride back he said nothing. Hunter got to work immediately giving orders for the medics on base to be ready. As soon as you woke up you would be hungry again. despite this Johnny just kept you close, as if you didn't show signs of being feral, or wouldn't try to dig into his flesh as soon as you woke up.

The healing process takes time. You're kept under for a very long time. Hunter had to get a feeding tube so you would return to normal. Your wounds are cleaned thoroughly, and you're put in a safe place. The team visited and stayed with you in shifts. The feeding tube was not a tested method for you yet, and Hunter was concerned about over feeding you, thinking it may cause you to vomit or get sick.

As expected Johnny had to be pried from your side more than once. Ghost did it to spar with him, knowing Johnny had plenty of aggression built up, and he could take the hits. The last thing he wanted was for a punching bag to receive that kind of treatment. Once you had been put under observation, Johnny called your mother. Your real mother. She'd relieved to hear you are okay, and asked Johnny if you would be able to stay with her for a bit to help you recover. Johnny would talk to Laswell about it later, you needed to wake up first.

When you finally wake up they’d already taken out the feeding tube, your state much more relaxed. You wake to see Johnny had fallen asleep in the chair next to you, his head rested on the bed. You sort of squirmed down further under the blanket to press your forehead to his. There are silent tears down your cheeks, as you feel a great sense of relief. Johnny woke up and pulled away to look at you. He wanted to pull you close to him, but he didn’t want to overstep. You sat up and he held your face in his hands, pressing your foreheads together again.

“You came to get me.” You said.

“Made a promise. Wouldn't go into the dark unless I 'ad to pull ya out.” Johnny said. You threw your arms around him and he gently returned the gesture. It was perfect. It was safe. You had your family back, and to make it better they had come for you.

The next while isn’t fun. Well a few times you enjoy yourself, but it’s mostly filled with recovering and exhaustion. Your mental state was damaged, your body was sore, and your hunger was difficult, as you were craving food but couldn't eat as much as you wanted without getting sick. Hunter does an amazing job of helping your body heal. While you do have a healing factor, the wounds weren't healing as much as they should. Your team's medic sits with you when you eat, keeping the portions smaller than you'd usually take, but they gave you snacks to sustain your stomach in between meals. Once you were out of the infirmary Price granted you a week off. Johnny was still in the process of getting you a month or so away from base.

For the most part, you became Johnny's shadow, if he wasn't yours. Part of it is because the wolf is now more protective over you, and well Johnny is too. He'd told you about getting time off and honestly it would be really nice to have it. Outside of that, you found yourself snuggling up with him. Johnny had done a good job at sleeping in his own bed since your return. Now though, you'd taken to curling up with him at night. He didn’t mind, finding your presence comforting. Seeing you asleep in his arms brought him peace.

Johnny still has tasks to do on base though so he can't be by your side 24/7. You go to the others on the team who don't mind having you nearby. You did a little where you could, like retrieving items or doing prep work. Sleeping and lazying around wasn't your thing. Hunter let you help them with prepping the medical supplies and take inventory as usual. The rest of the team either made something up or just let you observe.

König had taken to standing in when Johnny was too busy. He was relieved to have you back. At one point you had a panic attack, accidentally knocking over a bowl had created a loud noise. Before anyone could step in König had you in a tight hug, talking to you. He ran you through the process of naming things in the room you see, smell, hear, touch and taste. Panic attacks were a first hand experience for him, having his own social anxiety. While he didn't know what exactly happened when you were in captivity, he wasn't about to let you suffer through the small triggers by yourself.

If neither Konig nor Johnny was shaodwing you, Simon was quite literally shadowing you. In that he would peek in on you through your shadow just to be sure you were okay. He doesn’t hesitate to talk to about what happened. Abuse is something he will never forgive. Simon for the most part though would stay out of the way. You deserved some privacy, and a chance to heal on your own. Until another soldier was a little too clumsy and made a mess of the ammo bins. The crash is loud and you jump back, as the other soldiers raise their voices to hound him. Bloody idiots, keep yelling when there’s a startled kid! You back into the nearest corner and start to breathe heavy. Your ears ring, and Simon found you. He goes through the piles of ammo cartridges and suddenly the argument is muffled, and there’s only ringing. Until Simon’s voice broke through, and you looked up at him. You see you’re surrounded by darkness but Simon looked normal. His mask was on, but his focus was on you. Just take a minute. You needed it. This happened again, but only when you doing really bad.

Kyle hasn't stopped spending time with you, and if you're struggling to get up to the roof you guys like to sit on, he'll help you up. The wings are always around you, which can really help. It makes you feel like you're alone with Kyle, even if there are soldiers down below running drills or moving supplies around. You don't talk as much, but Kyle talks a bit more to fill the silence. Sometimes you guys don't talk at all. That's fine. Yeah, you could lean on him if you want. He wasn't going anywhere right now.

The cadejos paid you a visit in your room one day, and they had... a ball? Rudolfo poked his head in and asked if you wanted to play some fetch for the dog spirits. You didn't think they played fetch but you don't say no. You follow them outside and throw the ball for them. The white spirit comes back like a golden retriever each time, front paws tapping away, tail whipping about, tongue lulling with happy pants, all while waiting for you to throw the ball. The darker spirit is a little less trained. When it caught the ball it sped back to you causing you to flinch. Rudy got his hands on your shoulders pulling you back, reminding the black cadejo to be gentle. Your body tenses but when Rudolfo checks in you tell him you're okay. Just startled a little.

You went to Alejandro and Horangi directly, asking if they could show you some better self defense techniques. You could fight, but you wanted to be better prepared if someone grabbed you again. Alejandro is hesitant because the last thing he wants is for you to have a panic attack in the middle of it. Horangi however is all for it. Knowing that stuff had saved his own ass more than once when he was building up debts. Why shouldn't you be able to drop captors like a sack of potatoes? Small bonus, he could make Alejandro be the one that got dropped on his back a few times. Throughout the demonstrations, they do check in after check in. He was going to grab your wrists next okay? Alright, then he would whip you around, yep don't let him turn you around. Still good? Perfect.

Soon it was your last day off, and tomorrow you would be on leave with Johnny. It would be nice to see Scotland again. You wandered into the rec room where you saw Price on the couch. The tv was on likely watching the game. You sat down next to him, a blanket around you, and he gave you a smile.

“Are they winning?” You asked.

“Not who I’d like.” He admitted. You played on your phone for a bit and then started to nod off. Everything felt so much better. You were safe. No one could hurt you with your pack nearby. Price didn’t pay much mind, until he felt the couch move. When he looked over, he saw you trembling. Fuck. He got off the couch and knelt down in front of you, shaking you awake.

“Come on kid, it’s not real. It’s not real!”

“NO!” You cried out, waking up and found Price looking at you, shaking you awake. Tears ran down your face. Nightmares were becoming more frequent again. All because that witch decided to force herself into your life again.

“You broken?” He asked. You gave him a hesitant nod. “Okay.”

Without asking he picked you up giving a playful roar. It surprised you, but you couldn’t help but laugh. He sat back on the couch, reclining so you could rest against his chest. You never noticed how warm he was. His wing wrapped around you unconsciously as he went back to the game.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t say sorry. You can’t control it.” He said. You continued watching the game until he turned it over to a show he saw you watching earlier in the week. Slowly you fell asleep again. Price found himself subconsciously stoking your ears as you relaxed into him. Before Price didn’t know what to make of you. Right now, he was worried about you. At first you were a requirement, something he was obligated to take on. Then you proved yourself, showing value to the team in more ways than one. Now… you were part of his hoard. You were a treasure worth protecting. His team had been doing better, and much better now that you were back.

“John I hav-“ Laswell walked in and looked up to see a scowling Price, shushing her.

“Just fell back asleep.” He said voice very low. Laswell raised a brow with a small smile. You shifted a bit and Price hushed you, not wanting you to wake up. Even Kate can’t deny you’d exceeded her expectations. When she first met you were about a terrifying as… well as a rabbit with antlers. You’d grown so much.

“You ever expect this to be a scenario we find ourselves in?” Price asked her.

“No. The time off has been approved… but there’s an issue.” Laswell said. Price looked up. “Colonel Vargas has offered an alternative.”

“What does that mean?” Price asked.

“The program still has some authority, and with what’s been going on with the mother and the kidnapping they think sending her back with Johnny might put her at risk.” Laswell explained.

“…Alejandro has offered to take them in instead?” Price asked.

“I’m trying to convince the program to let Johnny go with her. They’re proving difficult.” Laswell said.

“But she’ll be safe?” Price asked. Laswell nodded. Price got up, carrying you with him. “Taking her to bed.”

Price took you to your room where he saw your things ready and packed. He set you down on the bed, and you shifted, rolling to your side. You would be safe. He knew that. He trusted the colonel, he was just worried about you. You’d only been back for a short while. Hopefully Johnny would be understanding.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[starlightsalvatore]

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni

You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.

You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 

“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 

“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.

“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.

“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.

“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.

But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.

He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.

“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 

“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.

“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 

“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.

You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.

“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 

Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 

Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 

And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 

You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 

His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.

His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 

You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.

“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 

Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 

When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.

Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 

You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.

His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 

“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.

“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.

“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.

“A trip?” 

You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 

“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 

[mcytblrconfessions]

Hi, little hater here from earlier. At no point when writing that out did I think it was misogynistic, but like. Yeah it might have been a little bit. Idk if I would care enough to yap about it if it had been just another guy being added. Maybe I am holding her to higher expectations then I would for a male creator.

I was hoping for other female creators to get in, and maybe since she was the final person announced in the 6 we expected I'm salty cause she 'took' the hypothetical slot that other creators I was hoping for for lifesteal. And that's stupid, and looking back I know that that's stupid. And that's not on Kab, that's on Lifesteal for adding 6 guys and 1 girl, and that's on me for bitching about it in a public place.

I've been watching her for a while now, and I really do want her to succeed. I think some of my hesitancy for her in Lifesteal is the sort of lack of commitment to real storybeats that we saw in the final stretch of s5, and Kab deserves to be in better stories. She's at the top of the artform of mcrp, and so far Lifesteal has not been. I want Lifesteal to do better, and maybe Kab can bring some of that to the server, but like unless they can reach that level idk if its the right place for her. I just don't want to see her on a server that refused to meet the energy level she brings to things.

Idk man. I'm not that pressed about it, just between seasons is the time to yap cause theres no streams to watch to focus on instead, by july 7th I'll be hyped to see her there. I'm sorry about that prior ask. I will be paying Kaboodle the unfair hater tax in the form of a gifted twitch sub tonight.

first off, thank you for the apology.

i dont have any real bias for lifesteal or kaboodle. i started watching lifesteal this week and im not familiar with kaboodle at all. and the reason ive stayed away from pvp focused mcrp is because it's so heavily male dominated especially lifesteal, ive been making jokes that there's a secret no girls allowed rule since ive heard abt it.

this fandom has a long history of not treating women well and when a woman is a fan-favorite she's really only allowed to be 1 of 3 things, a fighter, a girl-boss, or ur soggy poor wet little meow meow. its just not fair to creators to be essentialized and treated as support for their male peers. made to fit into men's stories instead of getting recognized and respected for their own. and smps themselves have horrible ratios, my favorite is hermitcraft but 5(4?) out of 27 is less then 20 percent! that's terrible! there's so many wonderful women ccs out there yet so little space is made for them. 2(3? idk squiddo's gender) out of 31 is the ratio for lifesteal 6. i dont need to point out how bad that is.

so to get an ask with "I just don't think that the vibes are going to be right with her there" put me really on edge. it's putting the fault on her, and it's ignoring that there was a group of lifestealers who already agreed that she was a good fit because she's on the smp! she's on the team! the difference between "the vibes arent going to be right with her there" and "they can't reach her level" is huge. but you know lifesteal better then me. if you say they cant match her energy i believe you! but if it's true, her and lifesteal dont work out because she did put her all in and they didnt that is still completely different from the thesis of your original ask

ive turned off the reblogs of the other post but i hope moving forward we can be more critical and careful with how we treat our women creators. there's already so little space for them in creator spaces let's not push them out of community spaces too.