The Gayest Space Nerd

He closed the door behind him and the click sounded like a deсision.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, stepping closer. I felt the hеat оf his breath on my neck before he even touched me.

His fingers lifted mу chin— not gently— and he whispered, “Tell me tо stop.”

I didn’t.

He lowered his mouth to my throat— just as footstеps echоеd in the hallway.

If the crucio scene was realistic.

I’ve been thinking about this moment for a little while now. The mc seemed to brush off crucio as if nothing happened. Like whatttt. Nooo.

This is really how it would go down.

Aneira (MC) would be in utter agony. looking for anything/one to cling onto.

Ominis would be freaking out and having ptsd flashbacks from hearing Aneira (MC) screaming. But he’s a gentle soul and he knows what it’s like to be struck by that curse so he would try his absolute best to comfort Aneira (MC) through it.

And Sebastian would be in total shock from seeing the true consequences to using curses. He would just freeze up.

Horus — he’s insatiable, he’s amazing, and fucking you until you swoon into a sticky limp mess is concrete proof of both of those things. It makes him feel all powerful to lift you into his lap, letting you fall limp into his chest as he keeps fucking his way through the cum he’s already pumped inside you. He especially likes doing that with the Mournival, trading you between himself and his sons until it’s literally just passing around an unconscious Luna Wolf fleshlight.

Fulgrim — yes, but in very specific circumstances. He’s a complete perfectionist, even in bed — especially in bed — and if you pass out from exhaustion at the swelling crescendo of an orchestra, or just as he puts the finishing touches to the sculpture he’s carving (of you, while fucking you; he’s a multi-tasker) then he’s ecstatic. What a sense of timing! What artistic brilliance! This is why he loves you! When you wake up, it will be to a doting Primarch nuzzling your hair, telling you how fantastic it all was, and already aching to go again.

Lion — a little different from the others on the list, as he will do it by accident. The first few times he fucks you, he gets really overexcited, and he just doesn’t want to stop. You’re the best thing he’s ever felt; he had no idea that anything could be so amazing, so silky and wet and warm. He doesn’t want to stop, and so — being the entitled forest king he is — he doesn’t. He goes again and again and again, flipping you over to see how it feels from this angle, now this one, oh and now he wants your mouth again — until eventually you collapse from exhaustion. He panics a little (though he will deny ever having felt anything approaching concern) and you wake up after he dropped a bucket of ice water on you. Then he grabs you, shoves his face in your neck and sniffs deeply as he gropes along your body, checking for injury.

Then he grabs you by the scruff and shakes you. “Foolish mortal,” he snaps. “Why did you do that?”

It doesn’t take long to pick up on just how spitting mad the Vault Dweller is, being on the road together. 

She’s always been angry, since the first time they had the misfortune of running into each other, an undercurrent of righteous rage threading through each of her words to him. Before the observatory, all the anger had been directed at him or Moldaver, but now there’s a jaded tilt to everything she does, a building fury at the wasteland around them. 

And hell, why wouldn’t she be? Cooper certainly is, vengeful in a way that just about eats through the drugs he keeps himself loaded on. Janey and Barb keep him that way, a pot just on the brink of boiling over, carefully kept tucked away until he needs to use it. Most people are angry, these days, between the Brotherhood and Fiends, whether they’re trapped inside of a Vault or stuck outside of them. 

Little killer, he’d called her, back in the earliest days of their acquaintanceship. How right he’d been, he muses now, watching the heel of her boot cave in the thorax of an unlucky radroach that had scuttled into their path. She grunts as she kicks the creature, a frustrated little exhale from between her gritted teeth. 

A/N: So short but needed it out of my head. Vague spoilers for the end of Fallout's first season, so be aware.

L & C: Eye to Eye

Vaultie doesn’t talk much for the first couple of days. 

Coop tries not to dwell on it—lot easier for him, lot safer for them, if she keeps her mouth shut. Just…well, hell, it’s one of those things that niggles at him, twitching in the back of his mind like a worm on a hook. Dumb fuckin’ fish that he is, Coop lets it draw him in. 

The ghoul gives her a once-over as they settle in for the night. Blood’s still crusted on her uniform, near the corner of her mouth, some of it flecked into her hair. A mottled bruise stretches across her cheek and up over her temple, purple at its center before paling to yellows and greens on the edges. Coop knows it hurts, but Vaultie doesn’t say shit. 

A noose and a prolonged stay on death’s door, dehydration, and irradiation hadn’t shut her up, but she’s sitting there, staring into the fire, all banged up and silent. 

Y'all shot a whole-ass Batgirl movie and refused to release it so you could get a tax break, constantly cancel popular shows after a single season, and remove stuff from streaming while refusing to sell it on physical media, so maybe shut the fuck up.