#This isn't what anon had in mind

[ask-yandere-sim]

*me putting two characters who've never previously been shown near each other before together like they were dolls* now kiss ^-^

The process of finding the characters.. a GIANT barrel...

[deadpanwalking]

I’m… neither of the previous anons, but— twentieth century history, if you would?

Still way too broad, but I don't have any fight left in me. The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson is one of the best history books of the past few decades. If it had just been the sum total of fifteen years of oral histories (over a thousand, iirc) and rigorous archival research—dayenu!—it would have still impressed, but Wilkerson took all those interviews and distilled them into the personal narratives of three different African Americans who left the South during the Great Migration; if she had only given us their stories and presented the research and historical perspective in the context of this barely recognized 70 year migration of six million people—dayenu!—it would have still been a massive achievement; but Wilkerson also put the Great Migration into larger contexts, constantly reflecting the way it shapes the present and future.

[yuesya]

Twinswap v2: Would Sukuna be able to tell that Shiki isn’t Satoru when they fight? He’s scarily insightful after all

Warning: Description of gore/slight body horror.

.

Looking back on the fight with Gojo Satoru down in that underground station in Shibuya, Choso freely acknowledged that the only reason he and the other Special Grade cursed spirits had survived that encounter at all was due to the regular humans brought in as collateral. They’d all known it, at the time. Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer alive, and in order to bring him low, they needed to resort to unconventional, underhanded means.

If it hadn’t been for Kenjaku –damn that man, for all the suffering he’d caused Choso and his siblings– using Prison Realm to seal Gojo when he did, there’s no doubt that Choso and the other curses would’ve been eventually whittled down one by one.

… He’d always known it, intellectually.

But never had that fact been as obvious as it was now.

Even handicapped by the damage that Prison Realm had done to him, Gojo was still going toe-to-toe against Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses. What initially started off as an operation to flush out and kill Kenjaku once and for all had swiftly turned into an unexpected battle between two sorcerers who resembled calamitous gods more than mortals, when Sukuna appeared without any warning.

Choso stumbles when a particularly harsh tremor rips through the ground, grabs his little brother before the boy falls on his face, and continues running.

“Thanks, Choso!”

“Call me ‘nii-chan,’” Choso reflexively corrects Yuji, entirely on automatic. His little brother doesn’t get a chance to respond, though, because suddenly the building next to them crumbles, debris raining down on them like a rumbling avalanche–

It’s a testament to his brother’s hardiness that he makes it through with only a few scratches. Still, Choso can feel his heart pounding –if Yuji had been a second slower avoiding any of those jagged pieces of concrete, propelled with enough force to put literal holes into the ground…

He determinedly shakes the thought out of his mind.

Around them, other sorcerers are also running. Fleeing the fight between the two titans taking place behind them, in order not to get caught up as inadvertent casualties –or unwilling distractions for Gojo, hindrances in every sense of the word. If only Prison Realm hadn’t caused the man to–

“Who are you?”

Sukuna’s growling voice is a low rumble around their ears. And Gojo–

Laughs.

“Y’know, you’re the first to actually ask me that?” The man stretches, then claps his hands together. “Whew, okay. That’s enough for a warm-up, I think! I guess the ‘King of Curses’ really isn’t an opponent to take on while I’m only operating at half capacity.”

Incredulously, Choso glances around the literal field of destruction, where half the surrounding landscape has already been leveled flat, then back towards the insane sorcerer.

Half capacity? Half capacity??

… Wait, what does he mean? Isn’t his Limitless–

“Ho? Quite full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Gojo shrugs, and folds his hands together in a seal in front of himself. “I’m not accustomed to this body, and this body isn’t accustomed to me, either. I’m good with Limitless, but not that good. I’ll need to modify this body a little bit so I can properly use it… mm…”

Cursed energy crackles, and–

Not one to stand by idly while his opponent was clearly preparing something, Sukuna launches another attack, flanked by the Ten Shadows shikigami at his side. Mahoraga, the other sorcerers had whispered. The crown jewel of the Zenin Clan–

Gojo isn’t moving.

Gojo isn’t moving.

Whatever he’s doing that requires so much of his concentration to remain still has him even disengaging his Limitless barrier. The attacks land point-blank, and the air is filled with blood and mangled flesh–

“Gojo-sensei!”

The gory mess of flesh twitches.

Then–

Rises, twisting, binding and pulling itself together into a humanoid shape, but it’s… not right. It’s not right. Muscles and sinews twist over pale white bones, stopping at a height that’s considerably shorter than Gojo’s original form. New skin grows in pale patches, covering the raw red flesh rapidly right before their eyes, except the shape is… petite, curved, and undeniably female.

The thing that was once Gojo Satoru throws its head back, long white hair flowing around its naked body like a river of snow-white silk.

Cursed blue eyes blink open. Dark and eldritch, and most definitely not the Six Eyes.

“Gojo-sensei…?” Yuji takes a small, aborted step forward, retracing his steps towards the direction of his once-teacher, but Choso immediately throws out an arm to stop him.

In hindsight, everything is blindingly clear.

“… That’s not Gojo Satoru,” he says grimly, voice terse.

The thing that rose out of the powerful sorcerer’s body raises its arms. Flexes its hands, and shifts its weight, testing its range of motion.

“Not bad,” it says, bouncing slightly in an almost childish motion.

A woman? Who–?

Sukuna hums, a faintly intrigued sound, despite the drastic turn of events that no one could’ve predicted. Then he opens his mouth, and Choso can feel the way his blood runs cold.

“Your name, cursed spirit?”

A mischievous giggle.

“Gojo Shiki.”

[galaxywhump]

if wren started begging for something during a torture session (a small break bc he feels like he's gonna be sick, or some water) would daniel grant that to him? or would it be situationally dependent?

I know you were probably expecting a straightforward answer, but your ask made a WIP happen, so here it is.

[SV-240 masterlist]

contents: forced relationship whump, slavery whump, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, illness, non-graphic emeto, torture, knives, stress position, blindfold, creepy comfort.

~~~

Wren woke up feeling terrible.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary for him, but that morning he felt terrible in a different way. He felt ill; weak and slightly dizzy, shivering despite it not being cold in the house. He didn’t tell Daniel, even though he wanted nothing more than to be given medication, hot tea, and some peace and quiet. No, telling Daniel would also mean him being overly caring and doting, which was the last thing Wren wanted to deal with.

So he didn’t say anything, and then he learned that Daniel was in the mood for some handiwork with his favorite knife.

Shit.

He still didn’t say a word when Daniel closed handcuffs on his wrists and attached them to a chain connected to a hook in the ceiling, forcing him to keep his arms outstretched and stand on his tiptoes. He didn’t say a word when Daniel put a blindfold on his eyes and earplugs in his ears. He just shuddered and gritted his teeth when the knife pierced his arm and was dragged downwards.

Just get through this, he thinks to himself while Daniel makes small, precise cuts around his shoulder blades in a pattern that only makes sense to him and his artistic vision. It’s not the first time.

But it’s the first time when he feels this awful during torture, and the position he’s in doesn’t help. His body is under so much strain, stretched out uncomfortably, he can barely stay upright, his arms hurt, his head hurts, everything hurts, and Daniel’s only adding more pain. He still feels dizzy despite the darkness - or maybe because of it - his face is covered in cold sweat, he starts feeling slightly nauseous. The blindfold is soaked with tears of frustration, he can hear his heartbeat way too clearly, it’s the only sound he hears, he feels horrible, he wants out, he wants this to end, he can’t handle this after all, but that means…

“Stop,” he mumbles weakly, shaking his head and whining when the pain from the cuts seems to intensify now that he’s not fully preoccupied with his illness. Talking with the earplugs in is an unpleasant, almost surreal experience, and he can only hope he’s actually saying something, that his voice isn't too weak. "Please stop."

But this is Daniel, so Wren can imagine him laughing at his begging, making a stupid comment promising that this will be over soon, sweetheart, but this isn't about that. He whimpers when the knife cuts into his back again.

"I'm serious, stop, I-I think I'm gonna be sick, I just need a break."

The knife disappears, and Wren swallows desperately, struggling to take a deep breath.

He flinches when he feels Daniel grip his arm - thankfully an undamaged part of it - and a moment later his wrists are released. Daniel catches him before he can collapse, unable to stay upright after the punishing position.

The earplugs are removed, and the blindfold follows. Wren winces and blinks, and when his eyes get used to something other than darkness, he sees Daniel's face, with worry written all over it.

"Are you still feeling sick?" he asks, and Wren nods.

Daniel wraps Wren's arm around himself to support him and leads him to the bathroom, where the nausea gets overwhelming. Daniel holds his hair back for him, not saying a word for now.

Wren closes his eyes, exhausted, and fuck does everything hurt, but mostly his arms and back now that he's moving again. He's trembling, getting up feels like an impossible task, and he's still crying, from pain and from his awful state, and he's not even mad at himself for it.

"Better now?"

"I think so," he mutters. Daniel lets go of his hair.

"I'll get you some water."

Wren nods, keeping his eyes closed, not daring to move an inch for fear of his body igniting with pain again and the room spinning.

Anxiety creeps up on him; nothing like this has ever happened before, and he doesn’t know what to expect from Daniel.

He comes back and hands Wren a glass of water, then sits down next to him, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I think I'm sick." Wren stares down at the water, every breath causing his fresh wounds to shift and hurt even more. "I feel like shit, and… you just saw for yourself, I guess." He sighs. “So just get the session over with before it gets worse.”

Daniel firmly shakes his head, frowning.

“No. You need to rest. I’ll take care of your wounds and then you can lie down.” He pets Wren’s hair. “We can continue some other time.”

Wren huffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You do realize how fucked up that sounds, right?”

Daniel just chuckles in response. He does know. It changes nothing.

The knife will return in a few days, and yet Wren can’t help but be relieved as Daniel cleans and dresses his wounds, then gives him a shirt and carries him to the living room.

“I can carry you to the bedroom, if you’d like. Unless you prefer the couch.”

“Couch,” Wren mutters. The bed is more comfortable and the bedroom would offer more peace and quiet, provided Daniel leaves him alone, but he wants to stay out of there as much as he can, and the couch is too small for Daniel to lie down next to him.

As much as he hates the couch, he can’t deny that it’s comfortable, and in his exhaustion he practically melts into it. Daniel even brings him a blanket, which Wren curls up under, pulling it up to his neck.

“I’ll bring you some pills,” Daniel says, pressing his palm to Wren’s forehead; he clicks his tongue when he confirms that it’s unnaturally warm, and brushes Wren’s hair away from his face, making him wince. “Do you need anything else, sweetheart?”

“Rest,” Wren sighs, struggling to keep his eyes open. Now that he’s stopped ignoring it, his illness has decided to hit him with everything it’s got.

“Okay. I’ll fetch the pills and you can sleep after you’ve taken them, alright? Try to stay awake.”

“Mhm.”

Daniel leaves, and Wren wraps the blanket tighter around himself, blinking slowly, trying to fight his exhaustion off for a bit longer. Daniel is just as doting as he’d feared he would be, but… aside from his usual sweethearting it feels good to be taken care of, and to be listened to. The wounds still sting, a reminder of the torture he’d gone through and will go through again soon, but he can’t bring himself to care. He waits for his captor and torturer to come back with the medicine, and he has to remind himself not to thank him for this bare minimum of kindness, more than most of what he’s gotten throughout his life.

He wishes it wasn’t like this, moments of kindness and loving care juxtaposed with pain and tears and coercion; he knows how much Daniel enjoys doing this, being the sole source of both suffering and comfort.

He’s aware of so many mechanisms of his captivity, yet he’s powerless to fight them, forced to accept them, and all he can hope for is that all these processes won’t shape him into something else, whatever Daniel, whose smile is unnervingly genuine and fond when he enters the living room, wants him to be.

“Sleep well, sweetheart," Daniel says softly once Wren's washed the pills down with water. "I hope you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“So you can torture me more?” Wren mutters, closing his eyes. 

Daniel’s lighthearted laughter keeps ringing in his ears long after he's fallen asleep.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpvp @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood

[phantom-fleetways]

Thoughts or tidbits about spite perhaps?

Only what you can share though! Don't feel too pressured to spoil styff

I just think he's pretty neat so I'd like to learn what I can about him ^w^

Sure!!

Nothing said here is gonna be canon, and that's mostly cuz this is all scrapped stuff.

Working on Invidia is... Hard. Genuinely speaking. So I have a lot of scrapped content for it that was used to build up bits about his character!

Some reference notes about THIS design!

During this time while I was working on Spite, I had basically polished out a concept for Invidia. Mostly that Invidia was the name of what is basically Moebius during this period of development. I was reusing what little I understood or Moebius from Archie to craft this early version of the AU. At this point, only 6 main characters had been established.

Originally, in these early concepts Spite was more outwardly jealous and scheming.

Another important thing is that in these early concepts, Spite made Scourge. And Scourge made Spite. I frankly feel like I will revisit these concepts, but not in the way I originally planned.

Spite, as it stands now, hasn't changed all that much from my first crack at characterization. But he's not nearly as outwardly prone to acts of Jealousy as he used to be. He's a bit more secure in his relationship with Scourge. Mostly cuz he is the ONLY person Scourge truly gives a fuck about on a genuine level.

Hopefully, when more of Invidia is finished and I actually get their part of the story properly hammered out I can share even more and even start working on more shitposts for them. For now though, I'll stick to sharing small things.

[mrthology]

People treat the books as if they are accurate. They are flawed and we need to discuss the flaws. He has butchered mythology and all of his characters and as a fandom we have a responsibility to fix it, not let inaccuracies and the other terrible things he has put in the books slide. As mods of a server, you and @ashilrak have the responsibility to do so.

I've answered asks related to this several times, here, here, here, and here, so won't bore you with repeating my thoughts again.

I've never claimed the books are accurate, and have mentioned before people shouldn't treat a children's fictional series as if they are. I've also never said the books are without flaws, as I am well aware they aren't. But at the end of the day, I'm still in this fandom, and still adore many of the characters. That says something.

Discussing flaws is a valid way to interact with media. But I've been in this fandom on and off for a long time, and I've seen a lot of the discussion again and again, and find it exhausting. I choose to focus on what I enjoy, and know it's better for my mental health to do so. Both @ashilrak and I understand if that's not the server environment that you want, and that's absolutely fine. No server is going to be for everyone, and people aren't going to all interact with media in the same way.

Take care of yourself and interact with fandom how you want to. At the end of the day, it's escapism for so many of us, and that's pretty needed.

[savage-rhi]

🫂😪

[fluxweeed]

yes I agree that you’re implicitly required to rec a fic you’re involved in which is why it HURTS WHEN PEOPLE DONT like oof. you said yes to work on it but then you didn’t like it that much hey. obviously I’d rather that than people rec something they don’t actually like, I’m not saying it should be disingenuous, it just hurts you know? ouch

nahhh i don't think ppl should feel obligated to do marketing for a fic they've already put time and energy into helping the writer with!

[funnywormz]

can i get uhhhh

"Leave me alone." managerboy?

(lobby boy pov bc i like writing him lol)

Screams echo down the hallway after me as I wheel my cart back to the elevator, but I don't look back. The thing I put in the room will... I don't want to stay and watch. Sometimes I do stay, but tonight I want to be downstairs. With... Her. My legs are already stiff and aching, and by the time I reach the elevator I'm leaning on my cart heavily, but I make it inside. The silver doors close behind me and the elevator rattles down to the first floor.

It takes longer than it should to get there. My reflection in the doors is melting, twisting, my skin sagging off dying flesh. Something creaks. I can't tell if it's me or one of the cables holding the elevator up. Sometimes... Sometimes the Hotel doesn't let me make it back down to the first floor. Sometimes she likes to snap the cables, and... I have to fall. But I don't think she wants to do that tonight, because suddenly I'm juddering to a halt, and the slick doors slide open again.

I have to hobble across the lobby to make my way to her. Parts of me ooze and trickle onto the cold marble floor. I have to try hard not to slip in my squelching shoes, but eventually I'm across the lobby, standing in front of...

Normally she'd be at her desk. But she... She isn't here. She was here when I left with the Guest's bags... I could feel her sharp silver eyes on me as the elevator doors closed, but she's not here anymore... Maybe she's rotted away already, but that doesn't make sense. Maybe she went into her office? But the door is open, and I can see her TV screens flickering with blue static, and she isn't there either. I want to call out for her, but I know she... She doesn't like that. So I whisper. At first I don't hear anything, and I think maybe she's not here, somehow, but th-

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

The scream echoes around the cold lobby walls. It's her voice, and I can feel her rage, but she also sounds... Afraid... I think... I've only heard her sound like that once before, and I don't... I don't like it. I don't like it at all. It's so loud and the walls are hammering the sound back into my ears so at first I can't even tell where the scream came from, but when it finally starts to fade I can hear something... Moving. It's behind... Under her desk. A soft scrabbling, the sound of claws.

I try to move as silently as I can, but my joints crunch and pop out of place with each step, so I don't think I'm very quiet at all. Usually I would never go behind her desk without her permission, so I want to sneak. And maybe she was yelling at me, maybe she wants me to leave, so I don't want to make too much noise.

She's under her desk. I haven't... Seen her like this before. She's curled up, her mouldy skin pulled away from her teeth in a snarl. One of her hands is balled up in a fist over her eye, the one that got plucked out. Her hair is twisted up in her fingers. She's pulling it away from her skull in chunks with the force of her grip. I can see blood dripping from under her hand.

I think she might be... In pain? Or maybe even... Scared... Her good eye looks far away, and even though she's staring straight at me, it's like she's seeing something else. It's glossy and wide and vacant, and it reminds me of the way the Guests stare sometimes. When their body is still here, but their mind isn't anymore.

I try another whisper. "M-Manager?"

She doesn't say anything, or move, so I say it again, louder this time. "Manager?"

She blinks. Her eye refocuses, and fixes on me. It's like watching someone wake up. For a moment she just uncurls like a drowsy spider, and I don't know what to do or say, but then she speaks. "Lobby Boy?"

"Y-yes, ma'am?"

"Where..." She winces, the hand over her eye twitching. The blood squeezing between her fingers is black with rot, and drying on her skin. The floor under her desk is caked in it, but I don't think she's noticed that yet. "Where am I?"

"We're in the lobby, ma'am. I just escorted the Guest to their... To their room."

She seems to snap back into herself when she hears that, and tries to straighten her back and stand, but we're both too rotten to get back up now. "Yes, yes... Of course. Was there anyone else here?"

"J-just me and you and the Guest. The Owner didn't come out tonight. I think..."

This doesn't seem to satisfy her. What's left of the skin on her forehead furrows. "Are you sure there wasn't... You didn't see anyone else?"

"N-no, ma'am."

"... I see."

I can't tell what she's thinking. Something foul is pooling in her mouth, dribbling down her chin. Her ribcage is slumping down into her pelvis. We're both barely solid now. I don't know what she saw. I wonder if she knows what she saw. Her eye looks far away again, looking at me but also through me.

"Are you... Ma'am, are you a-"

"I'm fine." The words are forceful. Drops of black splatter from her mouth onto her chin.

I don't know what else to say. I don't think she wants me to say anything. I wish she could trust me. Upstairs the Guest is... Going. It's hard to move, but I reach over with a crooked rotten hand and I touch one of hers. I don't know if she feels it. She doesn't move, and her eyes are empty.

I came down here to die with her but she's already gone... She left without me. She's alone somewhere where I can't follow. I wish I could, I... I think I want to be with her all the time, so before I finally crumple into nothing I squeeze her hand, to let her know... I am here. I'm always here. I'm...

[kyouka-supremacy]

i’m gonna be honest when i first got in to bsd sskk wasn’t my thing 😭 but i followed you on a whim and now i’m fully crazy over them. like they take up all space in my mind. they mean everything to me. thank you for recruiting me o7

We got another one girls

[skrunksthatwunk]

playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 when a younger recruit has a very obvious crush on you (not dating yet)

Oh, anon. I had fun with this one. Simply because it's a "we aren't dating yet so why are you jealous" scenario just waiting to happen. That's where my mind went with this. The boys have zero claim on you but they are possessive and territorial as fuck. omg. Do you hear that? It's me standing outside screaming because I need to get a fucking grip. Anyway! Enjoy!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (gn!reader except on Simon's)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): hidden feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, intimidation, crushes, suggestive themes, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John is the superior here. He's the one in charge.

Yet he feels completely out of control.

This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening. He has spent months—months gently putting himself before you. Jealousy and possession are strange to him. They don’t come easy. And yet here they are, eating him from the inside out, chewing away at his resolve.

Anger and irritation are starting to seep in.

A new recruit with an obvious crush shouldn't make him this irate. There isn't any competition, but John can't help himself. All he sees is this wanker making eyes at you, speaking softly and with such tenderness that it's driving John up the fucking wall.

Which is insane. Stupid. You do not belong to him. The two of you are not dating—not anything—but somehow that doesn't matter.

His feet are moving before he even realizes it. The recruit turns in John's direction and instantly pales.

Good. Fucking good.

You turn too, brow furrowed.

"Captain?" asks the recruit, straightening his spine.

John shoves himself between, staring the recruit down, all venom. "You're wanted elsewhere."

"Y—yes. Sir."

The recruit salutes and takes off, the primal jealousy purring softly with contentment.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is going to grind his teeth into dust if he doesn’t unclench his jaw.

What the fuck is this bloke doing over on this side of the complex anyway? He’s a goddamn new recruit. Freshly arrived and still green.

Do you even realize he’s flirting? Kyle can tell just be the way he stands far too close, or the subtle way he touches your arm. His smile is stupidly large. The man is completely struck by you. You appear completely oblivious, having a conversation with him like there’s nothing amiss.

Nope. Kyle is pissed. Furious. Which is fucking ridiculous. The two of you are not a couple, even though Kyle wishes otherwise.

“You look right scunnered.” Soap appears at Kyle’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“That,” he growls.

Soap frowns, following Kyle’s line of sight. Soap’s frown turns to a knowing smirk. He turns it on Kyle with a mischievous glint. “Want Ghost to scare the shit out of him?”

The rest of the team knows how Kyle feels about you even if they don’t comment on it.

“That would be great,” says Kyle flatly.

Soap lightly pats Kyle’s shoulder. Turning around, he cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Lt!”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"I could rig an explosive. Put it under his bunk. That’d be fucking brilliant,” murmurs Johnny.

"We're looking to scare him. Not to maim everyone in his immediate radius,” replies Kyle.

"What about a firework? Poppers? Oh! A stink bomb?"

"That’s fucking childish, Johnny,” mutters Simon.

Johnny isn't jealous. Really, he's not.

He's just...protective. That's what he tells himself anyway.

Kyle, Johnny, and Simon observe you from across the communal gym. A new recruit from the latest batch is hanging on the ropes of the boxing ring. His stance is casual, skin glistening with sweat as he gives you his best smile while he chats you up.

The lad is putting it on thick, and Johnny is having none of it.

You are not Johnny’s spouse. You are not dating. You are not his…anything.

But that hardly matters.

Because Johnny has stolen plenty of kisses from you. He’s put his hands on your body. He’s been far too close for the comfort of a coworker or friend. In that, there is a claim. Johnny can draw the line somewhere.

He is so close to making you his.

No one is getting in his way. Not even a charming new recruit.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Female Reader)

"Don't do it, Simon. It's not worth it."

Johnny's words don't satiate the anger. Rage is boiling beneath Simon's skin. It is white hot—fierce. All of this emotion and yet Simon has no claim over you.

It still hurts. Still aches.

The two of you are not together—not dating. But it's Simon's name you scream with pleasure, and that counts for fucking something.

His fists clench, muscles coiled with wrought tension. Johnny places his hands on Simon's shoulders and shoves him back down in his seat. If Simon weren’t ready to flay his newest target alive, Johnny wouldn’t be so bold.

"Remove. Your. Hands," growls Simon, slowly.

Kyle grimaces, his gaze darting between Simon and Johnny. He looks ready to jump in if Johnny needs him.

"I'm doing this for you, Lt,” murmurs Johnny, even as his hands keep the pressure.

"She's mine."

"We know,” reply Johnny and Kyle in unison.

One of the new recruits is putting on his best performance, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Johnny is right. Simon can't go over there and knock the man to the ground, no matter how much he wants to.

"Take a deep breath, Lt."

"I'm trying."

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

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[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

[gravegoer]

What if we get like an internal monologue of just how much Sevika is into you? Like if it’s her first day as counselor and she sees you walking around the halls helping out as an assistant. She can’t help but think reader is so damn cute! Maybe even reader flirts a little from afar <3

Pretty Piltie ⋆˚✿

thank you anon, and yes i love this, this is very cute ! i went a little different for some plot but i hope you like it :) i also have a few more pirate sevika fics coming out so look out for those ! coming sometime this week :) masterlist

After her first day on the council, she saw you in the hallway, walking around with your clipboard in your face. (Definitely in a hurry)

She raised an eyebrow at the pep in your step and the carelessness of you flipping through pages while walking. Before she could even move to the side, you bumped into her.

"I'm so sorry," You looked up at her with an embarrassed look on your face, "I thought the halls would be empty."

She couldn't even get a word out before your eyes widened, "Shit. The meeting is over, isn't it?"

You scurried to the doors she just came from, and she almost laughed at your actions. Even after the exasperating meeting she had a smile graced her lips.

Well, I could get used to that.

When she got home, her mind flashed back to the girl she encountered in the hallway, furrowing her brows. She tried to rid of the image. Maybe she was just thinking about it because it's the only exciting thing that occurred today. Yeah, that's it.

The next week, she had to come back for a second meeting, this time staying back longer to discuss things in finer details. A couple of councilors have already up and left as it was getting late.

After a few minutes, she saw you walk in with one of the council members. You had a nervous smile on your face while the older woman spoke to you.

Sevika let out a snort at your expression, finding it to be oddly cute but containing herself moments later. Although she couldn't stop eyeing you when you stood behind the councilors chair just across from her.

You were scrawling out things on your clipboard while the grey-haired woman in front of you spoke. Sevika was only half listening as her eyes bored into your face, taking in all your features.

I mean, who knew Piltover had princesses like this.

Suddenly, you looked up to make eye contact with Sevika, her brows 5 she averted eye contact to look at the woman in front of you.

She saw your smile from the corner of her vision when she looked away. Fuck.

It seemed like every time you looked away she stared back at you, she didn't come here to eye-fuck her co-workers assistant but damn.

She watched the way you tilted your head when hearing something strange, or raised your eyebrows at something controversial, bending over to whisper something in the ear of your boss.

All in all she was definitely lost in thought when someone called her name, "Sevika!"

She looked over at the woman beside her who spoke, "Shall I repeat myself? I say, what are your thoughts on this matter?"

Sevika blanked. She racked her brain for an answer but the only one it was coming up with was the curve of your smile and the hue of your eyes.

She saw your surprised face and you mouthed something to her, "Say you agree."

She coughed into her fist before speaking, "I suppose that's fine."

The others looked at her suspiciously but carried on nonetheless. Throughout the rest of the meeting she made sure to pay close attention, so that she wouldn't slip up Infront of her co-workers again.

When the meeting was dismissed she was the last to leave, running her hand down her face in a way to ease her mind. She took a deep breath before stepping into the hall.

She was greeted with the sight of you talking to a few advisors, taking notes, and handing out papers. She found it endearing the way you bounced from person to person, engaging in conversation.

It seemed like you were taking peoples opinions for your survey. This was her chance to redeem herself. (She's embarrassed you had to help her earlier.

After speaking with an unfamiliar lanky man, you turned around and locked eyes with Sevika once again.

You waved at her, flashing her a cute grin. But before you could take a step towards her, your boss was calling her away.

Immediately, you deadpanned and pulled your lips into an exaggerated frown. Sevika smirked at your expressions and flicked her hand teasingly in a shoo, motion.

She would most definetly be seeing you again.

i know this is a bit shorter than my usual, spare me

im also having major writers block and i have 20+ asks so 🙏 let me cook here, i also have many projects i want to get to

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　STURNIOLO TRIPLETS GO TO EUROPE

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N, Matt's girlfriend, participates in the 'STURNIOLO TRIPLETS GO TO EUROPE VLOG' video.

WARNING: Super fluff.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is MY idea and work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The first-class cabin was nothing short of a dream. The softly lit hallway stretched ahead of them, lined with elegant partitions that gave each seat its own private cabin. Y/N walked just behind Matt, his hand warm and firm around hers as they walked the narrow aisle. Nick was leading the way, already peeking into his assigned space, while Chris trailed behind them.

When they finally stopped at their row, Y/N’s jaw dropped. She took a tentative step into her cabin, her eyes wide as she looked around at the plush leather seat that reclined into a bed, the medium lit up screen in front of it, and the small touches of luxury like the pillow and blanket tucked neatly on the side.

"This is amazing." She breathed, turning back to the boys with a grin so bright it could’ve lit up the plane.

Chris, peering into his own cabin a few steps away, nodded enthusiastically.

"This is insane. It feels like a movie."

Matt sent the softest gaze at Y/N's way after watching her reaction, his expression gentle and boyish as he nodded, his eyes sparkling. He felt like a proud boyfriend for being able to give that experience for his girlfriend.

"It really is, huh?" He muttered, receiving a soft laugh from Y/N, who took her backpack off her back and handed it to him.

"Here, baby." She said, motioning to the space above them. "Can you put this up there for me? Please."

Matt took the bag, glancing up at the overhead compartment with a slight frown. It wasn’t immediately obvious how to open it, and he hesitated, looking around for guidance. Nick, already settled into his cabin beside Matt’s and recording the entire interaction on his phone, tilted his head toward the compartment.

"Matt, up." Nick said as he pointed.

Matt squinted, his confusion deepening.

"Where?"

Nick let out an exaggerated sigh, still recording.

"In the thing! Hold the handle and lift it, Matt."

Matt gave him a glare before following his directions. He tugged the compartment open and slid Y/N’s bag inside, muttering something about Nick always being a know-it-all, earning a quiet laugh from Y/N.

Finally, with everything in place, Matt stepped into his own cabin. It didn't take long before the hum of the plane filled the air, preparing to take off soon.

Y/N - who had been watching TikTok while it was still up - threw her phone inside her purse and looked around while trying to get comfortable on her seat, but sighing in frustation when she was unsuccessful.

She returned her feet to the ground and curved her upper body so she could see the hallway, biting her lip as she peeked at Matt's cabin. He had already settled in, reclining in the single "bed" with his hoodie draped loosely over his shoulders.

He felt eyes on him and was quick to look up, catching her hesitant gaze, a soft smile growing on his face, already knowing what she wanted, gently patting the small space beside him.

"Come here, sweetheart." He murmured, scooting closer to the window to make room.

Without hesitation, Y/N got up and crossed the small hall that put a distance between them, climbing in his bed, squeezing into the limited space. It was a tight fit, but neither of them minded.

Matt pulled the blanket over them, wrapping it snugly around her before slipping an arm around her waist, holding her close. Her head nestled against his shoulder, her breath warm and comforting against the skin of his neck.

Reaching for his headphones, Matt placed them back around his head, music already filling his ears. He stretched his free arm, fingers hovering over several titles across the small TV screen before settling on one of Y/N’s favorites, a light, cozy movie he knew she adored.

He pressed play and felt her shift slightly, her gaze flickering toward the screen as the opening scene began. She hummed in approval, though her eyelids were already drooping. Within minutes, she succumbed to the exhaustion of their long day, her arm draped around his chest as she snuggled closer. Matt rested his cheek against the top of her head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles over her arm, his hoodie’s soft fabric gliding against her skin.

For the first time since their frenetic day began, he felt himself relax.

He glanced toward the small window beside him, catching a glimpse of the night sky dotted with stars and the lights of the airport shining in the darkness. He hummed faintly, the moment feeling both surreal and comforting.

Suddenly, Matt caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly, he saw Nick approaching their cabin with his phone out, clearly recording. Matt shot him a glare, silently warning him to keep quiet.

Nick stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at his brother’s protectiveness. He panned the phone camera toward them briefly, whispering something to the device while capturing Y/N tucked into Matt’s side and the faint glow of the screen in front of them before backing away with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Matt let out a breath of relief, tightening his hold on Y/N just a fraction as she shifted in her sleep, her fingers curling into his hoodie.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the quiet luxury of the hotel hallway. Y/N trailed by Matt's side, while Nick and Chris followed, their rolling suitcases rattling faintly on the polished floor. The flight from Boston had been long, and exhaustion clung to all of them, but the excitement of finally arriving at their destination had them buzzing with energy.

"Alright, room 111." Matt said confidently, stopping in front of the door. He placed the card against the magnetic circle above the handle, and the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked. With a grin, he grabbed the handle and gave it a sharp pull.

Nothing happened.

He frowned, pulling again, harder this time, but the door didn’t budge.

Nick’s laughter echoed down the hall.

"It’s a push door, genius."

"Is it?" Matt muttered, frowning harder as he pulled once more, just to make sure.

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping forward.

"Move, Matt." She said with a teasing sigh, nudging Matt gently to the side. She took the card from his hand, placing it again against the magnetic circle, and waited for the soft beep. With one fluid motion, she pushed the door open, revealing their room. Turning back, she shot Matt an amused, bored look. "It's not because we're in a different country that the way to open doors changed, honey."

Matt opened his mouth to reply, but Chris cut in with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder.

"That’s tough, bro."

Y/N stepped inside first, and her breath hitched as she took in the sight before her. The room was a perfect blend of elegance and comfort, screaming Italian luxury.

To her front was a small white round table paired with two armchairs, a bouquet of vibrant green and white flowers arranged in a glass vase on top. Two letters sat neatly against it, each embossed with the Prada logo and addressed to both her and Matt. The sweet, rich aroma of the flowers filled the air, mingling with a faint hint of fresh linen and polished wood.

Directly to her left was an oval center table in marble, elegantly decorated with fancy chocolates, juicy fruits, and another small floral arrangement, the delicate blooms adding a pop of color to the space. Behind it sat a medium terracotta couch with two tall shelves on each side and a painting that seemed to be worth a lot.

Beyond that was the plush king-sized bed that seemed to be the most comfortable bed in the world, dressed in crisp white linens and framed by soft, warm lighting.

The tall windows occupying the whole largest wall were framed by heavy creamy curtains, slightly parted to reveal a hint of the garden below.

Y/N moved further into the room, running her fingers lightly along the wall as she absorbed every detail.

"This is..." She paused, unable to find the right word.

"Insane? Yeah." Chris finished for her, stepping in behind her with his backpack in his hands. "This is like... next-level fancy."

Nick whistled low, setting his backpack near the round table.

"This room smells expensive." He said, sniffing the air exaggeratedly.

Matt closed the door behind him, his earlier mishap forgotten as he put his backpack on the short hallway floor, meeting Y/N in the way and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"You like it?" He asked, his voice soft in her ear. She turned to look at him, her lips curving into a warm smile.

"I love it. Prada did amazing with this choice."

As the triplets wandered around, taking in the luxurious details and pointing out things to the phone Chris had whipped out, Y/N let herself enter the bathroom, pulling her skincare bag out of her purse to start organizing the main products across the sink.

Meanwhile, Matt was quick to throw himself on the plush king-sized bed, making sure to take out his shoes first - Y/N would kill him if he didn't, closing his eyes and feeling like he could fall asleep right away.

But he was quickly disturbed by a body crashing against his, his legs quickly pressing to his own chest in a way of protecting it while Nick jabbed his sides with fake punches, so soft that felt like he was tickling his skin.

"What the- get off me, Nick!" Matt yelled between fits of uncontrollable laughter, his voice muffled by his position.

Chris stood at the foot of the bed, phone in hand, recording the chaotic scene.

"This is gold." He said, laughing as Matt tried to wriggle free, his giggling echoing throughout the room.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom holding her, now, empty purse. She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of the boys acting like overgrown kids. Rolling her eyes, she let out a small laugh and shook her head.

She was away for only 10 minutes.

"Boys." She said in a mock-scolding tone, her voice soft and affectionate. "Be careful, please." She walked past Chris, her lips quirking into a smile as she gave his phone camera a pointed glance.

The youngest triplet chuckled.

"Don't worry, they will survive."

Y/N moved to the small couch at the back of the room where Matt put her backpack, leaving the chaos to happen behind her back. She retrieved her phone and then turned to the center table, spotting the tray of fancy chocolates Prada had left for them.

Picking one up, she inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma of high-quality chocolate before taking a small bite of it, feeling the unique taste explode against her tongue.

"Good?" Chris called over, turning away from Nick and Matt after they finally stopped.

"Delicious." Y/N replied, her words muffled as she chewed.

She walked towards him while chewing, watching Nick and Matt get off the bed, her steps muffled by the carpet.

"Nick, get the real camera so I don't have to vlog on my phone anymore." Chris asked as soon as Nick got closer, lowering the device slightly.

Nick was quick to go to his backpack, taking the professional camera out of it. It didn't take long for him to turn it on, quickly spinning it around to make sure it was capturing the right angle.

Matt, who looked disheveled with his hoodie slightly wrinkled and his hair a chaotic mess after Nick's earlier wrestling match, stopped by Y/N's side, standing between her and Chris.

"Alright, this is Matt's and Y/N's room. They're in a different room than the one me and Chris are staying-"

"Cause' we’re special." Matt quipped, his tone dripping with mock superiority as he glanced at Chris with a playful smirk.

Chris rolled his eyes, leaning away from Matt slightly.

"Can you fix your hair?" He gestured at Matt’s wild hair, a grin tugging at his lips.

Matt immediately raised a hand to his head, running his fingers through the messy strands.

"My hair’s all messed up ‘cause I had a hood on during the plane, and then Nick decided to fucking kill me as soon as we got here." He shot a pointed look at Nick, who was laughing behind the camera. "I'm not trying to-"

"Okay, let me show you guys all the things in the room." Nick was quick to interrupt them, turning the camera toward the room to defuse the situation. "First of all, gorgeous..."

Meanwhile, Y/N was silent by their side, phone in hand, finishing up a text to both her and the triplets' parents to let them know they’d arrived at the hotel safely. With a small smile growing on her face after listening to the small fight starting between the brothers, she slid her phone into her back pocket.

"... and I'm so fucking hungry now." Chris kept talking, his tone sounding frustrated as Y/N walked closer to them, the sound of Nick's voice showing the details of the room to the camera echoing like background noise to her ears.

Without saying a word, she stood in front of Matt, her hands reaching up to his hair. Matt didn’t miss a beat, continuing his conversation with Chris about where they should eat later.

"We can maybe go somewhere close. I don’t feel like walking too far tonight." Matt said as Y/N gently smoothed down the mess on his head, her fingers combing through his hair with practiced ease.

"There. Now you don’t look like a trainwreck." Y/N smiled, stepping back to admire her work before patting Matt’s shoulder, stepping away to return to the back of the room, planning on getting another one of those wonderful chocolates.

"Thanks, babe." Matt said nonchalantly, flashing her a soft smile before turning back to Chris. "Okay, so what are the options?"

With another piece of chocolate in her hands, she wandered toward one of the tall windows at the far end of the room.

The elegant window door opened with a soft creak, and a gust of crisp winter air swept through the room, sending a slight chill up her spine. Y/N leaned against the frame, her gaze falling to the breathtaking garden below.

The perfectly trimmed hedges, circular topiary trees, and an array of greenery gave it a serene ambiance. Umbrella-covered tables and chairs were scattered around, surrounded by other buildings of the hotel.

"Wow." She murmured to herself, finishing the chocolate as she took in the sight. She turned her head slightly, calling out to the boys behind her. "Hey, guys, come look at this!"

Chris was the first to respond, bouncing across the room like an excited puppy, followed by Nick and Matt.

"What is it?" Nick asked as he reached her side, peering out over her shoulder.

"Look." Y/N said, gesturing to the garden below. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Chris opened the other half of the window, copying Y/N's position and looking below it.

"Can we go down there?" He asked as he squinted at the view.

"We have to figure it out." Nick affirmed, making sure the camera was recording the details.

Matt slid his arm around Y/N's waist, leaning over the window frame to get a better look. His cheek brushed against hers briefly as he turned his head, her hair tickling his skin.

"I'd love to go down there." He chimed in softly, his voice warm.

Y/N glanced at him, her smile widening at the way his eyes lit up as he looked down at all the green. He was living his dream, and she felt purely joy from it.

Her hand met his on her waist, intertwining their fingers against her covered skin, squeezing his hand lovingly.

"Can we go eat now?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was tucked away down a cobblestone street, just a short walk from the magnificent Duomo. The golden light spilling from the windows reflected off the polished wooden tables and pristine white tablecloths. The tantalizing scent of fresh pasta, basil, and garlic wafted through the air as waiters bustled around, balancing plates piled high with creamy sauces and twirling spaghetti.

At a corner table by the window, the four of them sat, barely holding it together after being awake for more than 24 hours. Nick slouched in his chair, lazily twirling his fork in a bowl of spaghetti, his eyelids drooping every few seconds. Chris leaned against the backrest with his elbows on the table, his mouth occasionally opening in a massive yawn between bites of fettuccine Alfredo. Matt, seated beside Y/N, kept absently running a hand through his messy hair, trying to stay awake while cutting into his lasagna.

Y/N, however, was the first to cave. The warm pasta in front of her - ravioli, creamy and rich - was absolutely delicious, but exhaustion was screaming inside her far more than hunger. She managed to eat only half before resting her fork on her plate with a soft sigh.

Matt glanced over at her, his brows pulling together in concern.

"You’re not eating more?" He asked, his voice soft but tinged with worry. "We barely ate today, honey."

Y/N shook her head wordlessly, too tired to explain that she simply couldn’t eat another bite. Instead, she shifted closer to him, tucking herself above his right biceps and resting her head on his shoulder. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, squeezing him in a sleepy hug as she snuggled into his warmth.

Matt froze for a moment, holding his fork mid-air.

"Careful, sweetheart." He murmured, glancing down at her arms as they brushed the edge of his plate. "Don’t burn yourself on the lasagna." His voice was tender, and his free hand came up to lightly guide her arm away from danger.

"Hmm." Y/N hummed softly in acknowledgment, but her eyes were already closed. She didn’t seem to care much about the logistics of arm placement as she burrowed further into his side, her body practically melting against his.

The faint chuckle that escaped Matt’s lips was filled with affection as he returned to his food, though his movements were slower now, not wanting to disturb her.

"Wow." Nick muttered, his voice barely audible through his drowsiness. He leaned his chin on his palm and smirked at the sight of Y/N clinging to Matt like a koala. "She’s really comfortable, huh?"

"Looks like it." Chris added with a teasing grin, his hand subtly moving to grab his phone from the table. He couldn’t resist recording the scene in front of him; his brother’s flushed face, Y/N’s sleepy frame wrapped around Matt like he was her personal pillow, and Matt’s barely-there attempts to keep a straight face.

"Shut up." Matt muttered, rolling his eyes at his brothers while trying to keep his voice quiet enough. His head lowered slightly to press a soft, awkward kiss to the top of Y/N’s head, the angle slightly off because of her position, but the sweetness in the gesture made up for it.

Chris snickered quietly, his phone still recording as he whispered.

"Two years, and you’re still whipped, dude."

Matt didn’t even bother denying it. Instead, he simply adjusted his arm to hold her a little closer, his hand resting lightly on the right side of her thighs, bringing her legs closer. The movement was protective and tender.

"At least I’m not about to fall asleep in my pasta." He shot back softly, motioning toward Nick’s plate, where his fork was dangerously close to slipping from his fingers as he nodded off.

They continued eating in hushed tones, with Chris occasionally pausing to stifle his laughter at Nick falling asleep while chewing. Meanwhile, Y/N remained blissfully unaware of all of it, her breathing slowing as the sound of the boys’ voices blended into a soothing hum. She was vaguely aware of Matt’s hand moving to eat, but she trusted him to be careful enough not to burn or drop it on her.

When the waiter eventually came by to clear the plates, Matt stopped him, pointing to Y/N’s unfinished plate.

"Can we get this to go?" He asked softly, his voice still gentle as if not to wake her. The waiter nodded, and Matt gave him a thankful smile before returning his attention to her.

Chris finally pocketed his phone and leaned back in his chair, a grin plastered on his face.

"Well." He said quietly, looking between the three of them. "I guess this counts as a successful first dinner in Milan."

Matt hummed in agreement, pressing his cheek against Y/N’s hair, turning his focus back to his brothers.

"Are you going to meet Laura, Nick?" He asked, looking at the oldest triplet, who nodded while pressing his fingers to his eyes. "Okay, we can go wait for you at the Du... Duo... that bright building."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The patio in front of the Duomo was vast and bustling, even late at night. The trio stood at the edge of the square, far enough from the chaos of tourists to have a quiet moment while they waited for Nick.

The cold nipped at their faces, the chill of the Milanese night seeping through their jackets. Y/N was wrapped snugly in Matt’s arms, her cheek pressed against his chest as she tried to stay warm - or at least that’s what it looked like. In truth, she was barely awake, her head lolling slightly every now and then. Matt’s oversized jacket was draped over her shoulders on top of her own, cocooning her as she clung to him.

Matt squinted at Chris’s camera, his breath visible in the cold as he began.

"Alright, I’m not going to embarrass myself by trying to say the name of this building again, but me, Chris, and Y/N are enjoying it from afar."

Chris snorted from behind the camera, tilting it slightly to frame the scene better.

"Well, me and you." He corrected, his voice dripping with humor. "Because Y/N is sleeping standing up."

Matt couldn’t hold back his laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against Y/N’s cheek. He looked down at her, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face, his fingers gentle.

"She really is." He said with a grin, glancing at the camera again.

"I’m not!" Y/N protested weakly, her voice muffled as she buried herself further into Matt’s chest. She tried to lift her head to prove them wrong but only managed to half-open her eyes, her words slurring slightly. "I’m... I’m seeing the church. It’s beautiful."

Her attempt at defiance only made Matt and Chris laugh harder.

"Yeah, sure." Chris teased, zooming in slightly on her face before panning back to Matt.

"Guys, we just went out to eat." Matt started to the camera, still chuckling. "And we were literally all falling asleep at the table."

Chris spun the device to face himself, nodding vigorously.

"We were all so tired because we’ve been up for over 24 hours. Like, we were just fading away."

"The only thing that kept me alive..." Matt added as Chris turned the camera back to him. "Was the ice cream."

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms, her voice a soft mutter.

"And me."

Both brothers froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Oh my God." Chris shook his head, barely keeping the camera steady. "Did you hear that? She said 'and me'."

Matt grinned down at her, his heart melting at the sight of her sleepy pout.

"You’re not wrong, tho." He said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You do keep me alive."

Chris groaned jokingly, pretending to gag as he zoomed in on Matt’s face.

"Alright, let’s tone down the mushy stuff for the camera, you two. This is a vlog, you know?"

Matt rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. He tightened his grip on Y/N, letting her lean on him fully as her body relaxed even more against his. She was barely conscious at this point, her breaths slow and steady, but he didn’t mind. If anything, he was glad she felt comfortable enough to rest in his arms like this.

"Where’s Nick?" Chris asked after a moment, turning the camera to capture the Duomo behind them. "He’s been gone forever."

"He probably fell asleep somewhere." Matt joked, adjusting the jacket on Y/N’s shoulders.

They continued talking nonsense as the cold air swirled around them, Chris pointing out every biker that crossed their path, but Y/N didn’t stir again. She was too far gone, her exhaustion outweighing the chill of the night or the noise of the square. Matt kept her close, shielding her from the worst of the cold as they waited, his heart full despite the fatigue pulling at him.

When Nick finally returned, his steps hurried, and his face red from the chill, he found the trio exactly as he’d expected, glancing at Y/N with a small smile.

"Ready to go?" Nick asked after explanation about the guy who tried to make him buy roses for Laura.

"More than ready." Matt replied, his voice soft. He looked down at Y/N, brushing his fingers across her cheek to rouse her gently. "C’mon, sleepyhead. Time to get back to the hotel."

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, but her arms tightened around Matt’s waist as if to say she wasn’t ready to move. He laughed quietly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced at his brothers.

"Sweetheart, you have to wake up so we can go to our warm room and sleep in our bed, yeah?"

The camera was already trained on them as Matt talked Y/N out of her sleep softly.

"And this..." Chris said with a dramatic tone. "Is why Matt gets the boyfriend of the year award."

The screen cut off with the sound of their laughter echoing into the night, the cathedral standing tall behind them.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"... Goodnight Italy, goodnight moon, goodnight Prada-"

Nick, already giggling, interrupted with a laugh.

"Goodnight Prada is crazy." He said, shaking his head and pulling the covers up to his chin.

Chris, ignoring him, continued, his voice dripping with sleep as his words got a bit mixed up.

"Goodnight pasta, airport-"

Matt cut him off, too, straightening from his relaxed stance.

"Alright, I’m out. Say goodnight me, 'cause I’m leaving."

Chris stopped abruptly whatever he was trying to say, throwing an arm out from beneath the duvet as if reaching for him.

"No, no, no!" He protested, his voice filled with fake distress.

Nick rolled his eyes, his laughter subsiding into a fond grin.

"Let him go back to Y/N before she falls asleep in the shower or something." He teased, adjusting his pillow and settling more comfortably.

Chris groaned in defeat, sinking deeper into his blankets.

"Fine. But say goodnight to her." He said, pouting as Matt smirked and nodded.

"Will do." Matt replied, switching off the camera and leaving it at the marble oval table before slipping out the door. The hallway was quiet as Matt made his way to his room, his steps soft against the carpeted floor.

He pushed the door open softly, careful not to let it creak, stepping inside before closing it behind him, and was immediately greeted by the faint scent of Y/N’s lotion lingering in the air.

After walking through the short hallway that separated the entrance from the room itself, he paused in his tracks, the sight before him pulling a soft laugh from his lips.

Y/N was already tucked in bed, the duvet pulled up to her chin, leaving only her head peeking out. Her hair, still slightly damp from her shower, clung to her pillow in messy strands. Her eyes were closed, but her face twitched slightly, her brows furrowing at the sound of his laugh, as if she was caught between sleep and awake.

He shook his head fondly, leaning against the wall.

"You’re trying so hard, aren’t you?" He murmured quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

The sound of his voice seemed to stir her. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing her sleepy gaze, eyes slightly red from the tiredness. It took her a moment to focus on him, and when she did, a small, drowsy smile curved her lips.

"Hi, baby." She murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "You’re back."

Matt chuckled softly, stepping closer to the bed.

"Yeah." He said, crouching by her side. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Chris said goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chris." She mumbled, her words slurred and barely audible, and her eyes began to drift closed again.

Matt’s chest ached with affection at the sight of her so vulnerable.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart." He whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "I’ll be there in a second. Just need to change."

She hummed in response, barely acknowledging his words as she nestled further into the duvet, her breathing evening out.

Matt moved quickly, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a soft shirt, all the while keeping his movements quiet. When he finally slid into bed beside her, the warmth of her body immediately drew him in. She stirred slightly, instinctively shifting closer to him, her head finding its place on his chest as her arm draped over his waist.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her snugly against him and adjusting the duvet to create a cocoon of warmth around them both. His lips found the top of her head, and he kissed it softly, lingering for a moment.

"I love you." He whispered against her hair, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room, exhaling the comforting scent of fresh shampoo.

Y/N, her eyes still closed, raised her head slightly, her face tilting toward his. Her lips were pursed in a sleepy pout, and Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at how endearing she looked. He leaned down, meeting her lips in a lazy, intimate kiss. It was slow and messy, the sleep messing with their minds, but it was full of love.

Her head dropped back to his chest after pulling away, sighing softly.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Matt’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at her.

"For what?"

Her voice was soft and muffled against his shirt.

"For this. I’m only here because of you."

He shook his head, pressing another kiss to her hair.

"Even if Prada hadn’t invited us, I’d take you on a trip around all of Europe if you wanted to. Just say the word, baby."

Her lips curved into a small smile against his chest.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you more." He replied, his voice filled with certainty.

She hummed softly in response, her body relaxing completely against his as sleep overtook her. Matt stayed awake a little longer, his hand gently stroking her back as he watched her sleep, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

[finniestoncrane]

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”