I Noticed There's No Garou On Your Masterlist Soooo: Garou And I Know You Dont Want This, But Im Going

I noticed there's no Garou on your masterlist soooo: Garou and “I know you don’t want this, but I’m going to continue until you need me.” or “I’m not doing this because I hate you, I do it because I love you.” Kinda similar wording but either could be wildly different.

(I think I've written for him once or twice, I'm just a lazy fuck who hasn't updated the masterlist lol)

Garou/Darling: "I know you don't want this, but I'm going to continue until you need me."

TW: noncon/dubcon

He knew it was stupid to take them, he knew it. But they never made it easy for him to think clearly. He had been wandering the streets, looking for any place he could sleep without drawing too much attention. The alleys didn't look comfortable, but it was better than nothing. And just by chance, ____ had spotted him on the sidewalk and--noting his scabbed-over wounds and bruises from a bout with a Hero--immediately dropped everything to ask if he needed help.

He'd never had anyone ask that before, and he didn't know what to say aside from the first thing that had come to mind: "I'm starving." Surprisingly ____ had just smiled and taken him to the nearby Don Quijote to buy him a ready-made meal, some snacks and drinks, and some bandages and disinfectant for his cuts. "There's a capsule hotel a few blocks from here," they'd said, motioning for Garou to follow them. "But I've only got enough spare cash to have you stay for a night or two. Hmm..." ____ looked him up and down. "You don't give off any creepy vibes...I've got a couch that turns into a futon, if you want to spend a few days in my apartment."

Garou's stomach was so full from the noodles they'd bought him, and he didn't want to spend any more time out in the cold if he didn't have to now that he had felt nice and warm over the hour they'd spent in the convenience store. Without thinking about if this was a trap or if it was a good idea to trust a stranger so much, he'd agreed and followed them to his temporary home.

Weeks had passed since then, and he'd just finished the last box of cookies that ____ had bought for him as he lay on the ruined couch of Takeo's "hideout." His primary focus was on survival, but he kept finding that his thoughts always led back to ____. They had cared for him without any reason to. Hell, they were the closest thing to a Hero he'd seen so far and they were a weak little thing. If he'd really wanted to, he could've torn them apart with just a flick of his fingers in their apartment.

That little realization quickly snowballed into a desire to keep an eye on ____, just to protect them from anyone who might take advantage of their kindness. Garou insisted that it was just so he could repay the debt he owed them, and that was all. Still, his mind couldn't help but wander more and more whenever he watched over them from afar. They were so blissfully unaware of Monsters, Heroes, just working their boring little job and coming home to their apartment with a tired smile. Every time he saw it he wished he was back on their couch to see them smile from a closer distance, hear them talk about their boring uneventful day and ask him again if he wanted green tea or black tea with his Cup Noodles. Feel them pat his back when they thought he was asleep. Feel their warmth against his skin. Against his tongue and teeth.

His eyes widened as he stared at them through the window. Where the fuck had THAT thought come from? He'd been so shocked and strangely flustered by it that he'd left to return to the hideout and tossed and turned on his couch until he eventually fell asleep. He'd never felt much interest in other people (romantic or otherwise) unless he was sparring or fighting someone worth his attention. But he didn't find himself wanting to fight ____; after all, it would be more of a slaughter than a fair bout. He was feeling...something. Something that made his face warm and his chest tight and his cock twitching whenever he imagined seeing their face.

The dream he'd had that night didn't help either. He had finally become the monster he'd always wanted to be, a terrifying mass of sharp fangs and claws with a menacing feral aura as he tore and slashed at everything that blocked his path. ____ was the only being that didn't run away in fear or tried in vain to attack him; instead, they'd walked slowly to him and carefully placed a hand on his snarling face before smiling sweetly. They discarded some of their clothes and then lay on the ground in front of them in only their underwear, beckoning him to come down and join them. Garou leaned down to pin them underneath him, tore their last bits of clothing with one of his claws, and licked a long stripe down their cheek before biting down on their neck. Just as he was about to mount them and fuck them senseless--

He'd woken up, sweating bullets with a hard-on straining against his pants. Fuck. Fuck, he needed to do something about this. He had started to pull down his pants and had only given his shaft a few pumps. Still, just fucking his hand and letting his imagination wander wasn't enough. He wanted ____'s warm body around him, to hear them whine and beg for him to fill them up and look at them panting underneath him while he pins their ankles over their head to mate with them like a fucking animal.

Garou growled in frustration and pulled up his underwater and the waistband of his pants, still half-hard. He wiped the precum off of his palm and headed out to break into ____'s apartment while they were at work. If he was going to do this for real, he'd need some time to prepare.

The first signs of guilt started to tug at the back of his mind when he entered their apartment once again. He had no idea if ____ wanted him like that or even felt anything outside of sympathy or pity for him after they'd found him wandering the streets. Was he really going to repay the person who'd been so kind to him by hurting them like this?

He sat on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to keep his thoughts from racing and think clearly. I want to be a monster, but this is...different, he thought. But monsters take what they want, don't they? They have the strength and power to do that, and then kill anyone who tries to get in the way. I want to do that. I want to BE that. He noticed a small framed photo of ____ with a friend on a nearby table and stared at it. Monsters don't fall in love though, assuming that's what I'm feeling right now. But I bet lots of them have mates. That's what I want. I want ____ to be my mate. I can still protect them and make them mine, even when I've finally become a monster.

He made his final decision and resolved himself, and headed to their bedroom to lie in wait for when they came home in an hour or so. If he was going to become the first human monster, then ____ would become the first human mate for him.

____ had only just locked their door before they got the feeling that something was off in their apartment. Nothing looked out of place, and they couldn't hear any signs of someone inside, but there was still something in the air that made their hair stand on end. They narrowed their eyes and reached for their phone to enter the emergency police number into the keypad, and as they cautiously walked through the house their finger hovered over the dial button.

Nothing in the kitchen. Nothing in the living room. Nothing in the bathroom. As they headed towards the only room left in the apartment, they held their breath and found themselves shaking slightly with every step forward. They had only gotten a few steps inside before a strong pair of arms grabbed them and quickly knocked the phone out of their hand. ____ tried to scream, but the intruder had already clapped a hand over their mouth before pinning them to the bed. ____'s eyes widened when they recognized the person looking down at them with shining golden eyes that made them shiver.

"Don't scream," Garou ordered quietly. "Or I'll have to make you quiet." He tightened his grip around their jaw and they whimpered. They reluctantly nodded and he moved his hand from their mouth to pin both of their arms above their head.

"Why?" ____'s voice was wobbly and thick with tears that were already threatening to spill. "I just wanted to help you. Please, Garou, don't do this. You don't have to--"

Garou's clothed cock brushed against their thighs as he started to rut against them. He had wanted to hold back long enough to explain why he was doing this, but after feeling their warm body squirming underneath his he couldn't take it any more. He tried to comfort them a bit by slightly loosening his grip on their wrists and caressing them with his thumb; when he leaned down to sloppily kiss them, he felt their tears as they wet both his and their cheeks.

He finally broke the kiss to pin their sides with his legs and hold them in place while he pulled their shirt off over their head and tugged their pants off. He was ready to pin their arms down the second he felt them try to escape or fight back, but all ____ did was cover their face now that their arms were free. He finally tore their panties off of them, leaving them completely naked and trembling before removing all of his own clothes as well. If he was going to claim ____ as a mate, he didn't want a single part of their bodies hidden from each other.

Garou clasped his hands around their wrists and slowly pushed them back to either side of their head so he could see their face again. As he rutted against their pressed-together thighs, smearing a thin layer of precum into their soft skin, he moaned and moved down to kiss and nip at their neck. "I know...you don't want this," he said haltingly, groaning when the head of his cock slipped between their plush thighs. "But I'm going to keep going until you need me, just as much as I need you." He used one free hand to pry their legs apart and pressed a thick index finger against their entrance; the two of them hissed as he explored their incredibly tight and velvety walls. He was unbearably warm before when he thought about touching them, but now he felt like his hand was melting inside of his mate's core.

Garou kissed their neck again as he continued to finger them, and when he bit down on their collarbone with his sharp canines they winced and cried out. He licked and gently kissed the wound as a small apology for getting to excited, but he also noted how their walls had clenched around his finger after he'd bitten them. Maybe he wasn't the only one that would enjoy him making his dreams come true.

may I request a snippet of a vampire visiting his arch nemesis (vampire slayer) who’s terminally ill and taunting her that he could turn her if he wanted to and she wouldn’t be able to stop him? preferably 1800s setting. if you don’t have time or you just don’t want to that is completely fine!

"I haven't invited you in." Even now, despite everything, she didn't have to open her eyes to sense him there. To feel the chill of him like death itself had finally come.

"Your servant did," the vampire replied. "When I asked after you. I was most concerned for your welfare."

She cracked open her eyes, even if it would do no good, even when it took far more effort than it should have to fix her blurry vision upon him. She was too weak to fight. It was better to pretend to be careless than to confront the fact that she couldn't stop him even if she saw him coming. Her hand still fumbled for the wooden stake at her bedside - old instinct.

"You smell like death." His head tilted as he approached her bedside with uncanny grace, examining her. "Are you frightened?"

"I do not fear death."

"No." He sat down on the edge of mattress, and took her frail hand in his, preventing her from seizing the weapon with a damning ease. She tried to jerk away from the touch to no avail. He held her fist on his knee and patted it in an obscene parody of comfort. "You fear becoming like me. You fear living, and all that living will demand of you."

She swallowed, eyeing him. "You are not alive."

He looked it though. Certainly, out of the two of them, nobody could be blamed for thinking her the walking corpse rather than the reverse. He was as radiant and beautiful as he had been the day they met, when she had only been a foolish young girl, all those years ago. For a moment, just the briefest moment, she had thought him an angel.

No one knew, exactly, what was wrong with her. They only knew they couldn't help her. She only knew she did not have long left.

"Is that why you hid yourself?" he asked. "So I would not save you?"

"You are nobody's salvation either, least of all mine."

"You would not be able to stop me." He turned her hand over in his, exposing the startling blue of her veins. She had become pallid. Thin. A paper hunter, to be blown away with a breath. He traced a nail gently over the line, threatening to break skin. "I could turn you. You would despite that, wouldn't you, Miss Harper?"

Panic thundered in her chest, exhausted though her heart may have been. A wave of dizziness washed over her.

She could scream for help, but no one in the house would be able to stop him either. They didn't know him. She made another lunge for the stake.

He caught her other wrist, plucking it from the air and settling it back down at her side. He smiled.

She refused to beg. She refused to let tears prickle her eyes.

"If you damn me, you will die," she hissed, instead. "I will have all eternity to finish you-"

"Assuming you even want to."

"Of course I would want to!"

"Why would you want to?" His smile grew. "You would be a soulless monster, as you claim me to be. What care would you have for my actions, then? You may even be grateful for the new existence I have granted you. Aren't you the first to preach that a vampire is not the same creature as they were in life?"

She was. She did.

"By that reckoning, you cannot guarantee that your salvation," she spat the word like it was poison, hoarse though her voice was, "will be the torment you wish it to be either. If I am so changed as to spare you then I imagine I would be so changed as to welcome your curse as a gift. And." She tried for a smile of her own, twisted though it was. "I cannot imagine you would want any happiness for me, let alone an eternal pleasure." She let the smile drop for contempt. "Your sly attempts at cruelty only reveal your own deception."

He laughed. "I see this ill health of yours has not yet clouded your mind, Miss Harper."

She heard the words only distantly; the impassioned speech had inflamed something in her ruined body, bringing about a sharp coughing fit that had her writhing and gasping wracked for air. The tears prickled to her eyes all the same as the seconds passed and she couldn't get it to stop.

His laughter stopped. He made a soothing murmur, nonsensical, and no less mocking for its pretence at easing her pain, easing her to sit up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. When she finally managed to catch her breath again, there was an odd expression on his unreadable countenance, if only for a mere heartbeat before it was gone.

She didn't think the two of them had ever been in this close proximity. She flinched back.

"How the mighty fall." He was cold now, disdainful of her mortality exposed in all its vulnerability. "This is quite pitiful."

Still, he did not let go of her hands, even as he set her back down upon the bed.

"You are correct," he said, more briskly. "Turning you would not be a satisfying victory if it did not torture you so exquisitely. What else, then?" He hummed, thoughtful, and his eyes, too, were cold. All the truths of him revealed. "Perhaps I will parade your servants and helpers before you? Spill their blood across your deathbed as a farewell gift?"

She shivered and glared. She could not stop him from that course of action either; not without dying, and fast, so as to take away all motivation.

"I will have to think on it, won't I? For now..." He let go of her hand, furthest from the stake, and bit down into his own wrist.

"Mmph." She didn't haven't opportunity to protest before he'd forced the spilled blood to her lips, with all of their terrible healing and awful promise.

"I think." He shifted position, looming over her like the illustrations in an old fairytale, and flashed her the same smile as when they first met. "I will give you a few more weeks. This is only too entertaining."

Her death, to him, had always been his to take.

Arctic Monkeys // Sylvia Plath

The fallen angel

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