#also i turned anon back on to see what kind of hate i might get for this lol

[eevees-hobbies]

Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!

This is a response to this anon request: Hii can i request wind breaker boys : bofurin and shishitoren with a reader that love to flirt and hard to flustered although they tried to do it back? Thank you

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for being my first Wind Breaker request! I feel like we were on the same wavelength because I was planning on doing a flirt fic/headcanon, but you beat me to it! Unshy and bold is how I like to write my readers, too!

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Characters. Not smut but highly suggestive in some parts. Use of the word slut in the beginning background piece, a brief examination of the word and scenarios in which it’s weaponized. If you’re not into that, feel free to skip that part. But I’ve seen what some of you all are into and seen some of those reblogs—you know who you are, so spare me. You’re also a major flirt. Like, you’re at a 10 on the flirt scale. Go, you! Nothing too explicit, but here’s what we’re working with: mention of panties in Sakura’s. Kaji needs to learn to keep items inside of his mouth…unless? Suo intends to punish you so pick a god and pray. Hiragi needs you to chill out…but say more, please. Umemiya is too shy to ask you to call him Daddy (please call him Daddy). Togame tells you what you’ll be sitting on by the end of the night (also mention of alcohol in his). Nirei is a cute little bean <3. Minors Don’t Interact.

As always, I appreciate comments, reblogs, and likes. Requests are as open as my legs are for Haruka Sakura’s dick.

Word Count: 2.8K

Dividers by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Background: How You Got Here

You’ve always hated the word ‘slut’

It’s not that you wouldn’t personally consider yourself one. Depending on your ideologies, reclaiming the word can feel liberating and you find that to be true for yourself. 

You consider yourself to be naturally flirty, sexy, bold, and charismatic. You can also be a bit of a tease and have slut-like-tendancies in the bedroom, so, sure, a slut. And for the right person or people, if you’re feelin’ nasty, you’re willing to be whatever they want you to be. 

You’ve just grown to hate the word because slut is often used to mischaracterize a woman that men often can’t understand. 

They can’t, or choose not to, understand a woman who is vocal about who she wants and how she wants it. 

They call women sluts who do the chasing.

They call women sluts who fuck on the first date. 

They call women sluts who don’t fuck on the first date. 

The word slut has lost all meaning.

Patriarchy issues aside, this wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t also have a mouth on you. So when some low-life-loser cat calls you from across the street, asking if you got a man and then calling you a slut because you chose not to answer in front of his five loser friends, you turn around and yell, “Sorry, buddy! Experiencing disappointing sexual experiences isn’t on my bingo card for tonight!”

“What the FUCK did you just say to me?”

And contrary to what some may say, you aren’t fucking stupid. You know what happens to women when a man hates them and decides that you’re the object of their rage.

So, you often find yourself running in situations like this. Running until your lungs are about to explode and the only thing keeping you going is adrenaline and the fear that that word—and your mouth—might get you snuffed out. 

You’re looking over your shoulder as your assailants close the distance, painfully aware that this can’t go on for too much longer when you collide with someone’s chest. Strong hands grip your arms, anchoring you in place. 

You look up, expecting to see one of the men from the group but you’re instead taken aback by the stranger in front of you. He seems like the kind of boy you’d let call you a slut—-his close-mouthed smile disarms you, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you’re almost certain he’s someone you can trust. You don’t have too many options right now, anyway!

His tassel earrings swing as he raises his head from looking down at you, and his eyes follow the sound of running feet emerging from the alley. 

“Oh? You look like you could use some help. Stand over there for me?” He tilts his head when asking you the question, but part of you feels like he’s not really asking, so you nod and watch with bated breath as the young man methodically mows down every one of the men. 

Afterward, he turns to you, pristine and perfect, “I can’t let you walk home alone after that.”

“Sure,” you say, taking his outstretched hand. What’s your name? I have to know the name of the person who just saved me.”

“Oh, I guess that’s a fair point. My name is Hayato Suo. It’s nice to meet you despite the circumstances.”

It’s not long after that event that you fall into the protection of the Bofurin & Shishitoren men; your natural charisma quickly gets you in their good graces and earns you a special spot among their ranks. You give off mascot vibes—if mascots were cute and didn’t have gigantic, scary bodies!

Hanging out with them means being yourself without experiencing judgment or retribution. Your laid-back persona and flirting are met with laughs, blushes, and even sometimes flirtation in return. You’ve never felt more at home than with them. 

Haruka Sakura

Flirting with Haruka Sakura is like flirting with a brick wall; either he notices and chooses to ignore the situation as his face turns a crimson red, or he’ll yell at you for being a pervert in public. And both of those reactions are equally cute, so when one day you’re sitting at a booth at Cafe Pothos—-with Sakura, Suo & Nirei—-you decide that this is the perfect environment to get him riled up.

You gently knock your shoe against Sakura’s, which earns you an eyebrow twitch as he continues to shovel food into his mouth. Oblivious as always. 

You do it again to prove that it wasn’t an accidental nudge. Sakura’s eyes shoot up to yours, frantic because this is something you would do. His eyes are met with your innocent smile and subtle shoulder shrug.

As you all continue eating (excluding Suo, who enjoys a cup of tea), you gradually move your foot up his leg until it rests between his thighs. Sakura is trembling like a leaf, eyes darting between the faces of your friends, who could very well notice that you’re trying to get him to play footsie under the table. What if they notice? 

The meal concludes; Suo and Nirei exit the restaurant, and you and Sakura linger for a bit. Part of you hopes that he’ll call out your behavior, but he’s doing his best eye-avoidant routine. As you rise to leave, Sakura stops you, grabbing you by the hem of your sleeve and pushing you into the last booth at the back of the restaurant, where the line of sight is blocked.

Sakura climbs on top of you, your bodies crammed into the leather booths in a way that feels deliciously intimate. His hands are holding your arms at your sides, and his knee settles in between your thighs—and you are now more than ever painfully aware of how high your skirt has bunched up as his knee is dangerously close to brushing up against the seat of your panties. 

“Y-you can’t control yourself in public, can you!?” Sakura practically spits out. He’d sound angry to anyone else, but that’s not what you see in his eyes. 

You look up at him, mesmerized by his vulnerability and the proximity of his well-placed knee. "Do you want me to stop, Haruka?”

He again avoids eye contact with you, but the way he bites his lip gives him away, “No, I-i didn’t say that.”

Akihiko Nirei 

“Have you added anyone else to that book of yours, Nirei?”

Nirei beams at you. You’re one of the few people who takes an interest in the compendium of facts and stats he’s collected about the others. He flips through the pages and starts pointing out information he’s added since you’ve last spoken.

You nod along, taking a genuine interest in what he says; you barely notice your hand moving up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks tinge pink, and he stutters as he continues to read to you.

After he’s done hyper-fixating, a comfortable silence sits between you.

“What do you have about me?” you say, leaning closer to him. You’re teasing him; you don’t exchange blows like the subjects in his journals, so there’s no practical reason for him to collect information on you. That’s what you think until he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a small notebook with your name on the front. 

“I-i uh have the basic demographics, but uh…still need the more personal things like your favorite color and food.”

“What about my bra size?”

“B-bra….” The pencil in his hand snaps, and he looks everywhere but at you. “I uh… s-sure! I’ll take that if you’d like me to!”

You laugh; you genuinely find him endearing. “I’m kidding! We haven’t even had our first date yet, Nirei!”

He looks at you, pulling out a new pencil from seemingly nowhere. “Well, once I find out what food you like, I’ll add the anniversary date of our first date here, too.”

Ren Kaji

Flirting with Kaji feels dangerous, but you do you, friend. You, as an individual, and the way compliments flow easily from your lips makes Kaji uncomfortable, and he admittedly doesn’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you gives him the time of day. It isn’t until you somehow become closer that the absence of your flirting with him sets off blaring alarm bells. 

Are you ok? 

Who did this to you?  

Who does he have to kill?!

As you thumb through the vinyl at your local record store, you feel a bump against your shoulder. You look up and see your favorite platinum blond guard dog; his headphones are settled around his neck, heavy metal pouring from the earphones. His piercing gaze is a clear indication that you might be in trouble. Oops. 

“You mad at me or somethin’?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Mad? Why do you think that?”

“You haven’t been pestering me lately, and it feels…odd.”

You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, even with the round sucker placed snugly in his mouth. 

“Ohhhhhh, no, Kaji! I was giving you a break, but if you insist on flirting, how about-”

“Shut up,” he pulls the sucker out of his mouth and presses it against your lips, watching as you purse your glossed lips and kiss the candy. Neither of you breaks eye contact; an unspoken threat between you dares the other to yield first. His eyes narrow as you poke your tongue out and stroke the sides with intentional, slow licks.

“Tch!” he turns quickly, marching away from you. Despite his back being turned, you can tell by the way his arm raises that he’s now placing that saliva-soaked sucker in his mouth. 

Hayato Suo 

Suo might be one of two people on this list who might be a worthy opponent for you. How do you flirt with someone who is perpetually unbothered? Good question! I see your flirting as back-and-forth quips, playful jabs at one another that get increasingly sexual and oddly specific throughout the day.

If you meet up with the group and one strand of your hair is out of place, Suo chirps, “Bedhead, huh? What were YOU doing last night?”

If you see Suo break a sweat after an intense fight, “Wow, Suo! You really need to work on your stamina. I can imagine a few ways to help with that.”

Sure, it’s all in good fun, but there’s a sexual undertone to it all; between the smiles and sarcastic comments, you’re both participating in your special version of foreplay, and you have never been more turned on. 

Everyone around you thinks you should get a room, and as sunset approaches, you two do exactly that.

“Ready to work on that stamina, Suo?” you chide as you push him against the wall in your apartment. You know you’ll pay for man-handling him later, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

His earrings sway back and forth from the force, but he gazes down at you with smoldering ruby-toned eyes. Every smart-mouthed remark you’ve said that day replays in his head, contributing to his desire to make you atone for your brattiness.

“Yes, Y/N and I promise I won’t let you out of bed with your hair a mess like I did this morning.”

Hajime Umemiya

The complexity of Hajime Umemiya should be a case study. You’ve witnessed his laid-back nature as he jokes with friends, and you’ve seen the scary side of him that bubbles over when anyone threatens those he’s closest to. 

You’re truly attracted to both sides, but when it comes to you and the way you tease him, running manicured nails through his gelled hair and scratching gently at his scalp, he’s putty in your hands.

One of your favorite ways to experience Umemiya is meeting him in his element: his garden. It allows you to bond with him, and he often shares information about his life. Somewhere, Sugishita is biting his fist. 

“Big brother,” you whine as you plant okra, “am I doing this right?”

Umemiya’s eyes widen, and he looks at you across the garden. In what feels like seconds, he’s kneeling in front of you, your hands cupped in his own. “Y-you can’t call me that!”

You blink, confused, “you tell everyone to call you that.”

“I don’t want YOU to call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird when someone you…like…calls you big brother. It’s worse than being called a friend!”

You snort, but when you meet his eyes, you quickly straighten. Oh! He’s serious! 

“So, not into me calling you big brother even during our ‘private moments?’ What about ‘Daddy?’ How do you feel about that?”

He laughs loudly—not because he thinks that was especially hilarious—but because you just make him nervous. 

“You can call me Hajime or…’my boyfriend?’ Yeah, let's stick with my boyfriend!”

“Not Daddy?”

“I won’t stop you! Now, how about that okra???”

Toma Hiragi

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Hiragi’s simultaneously rubbing a knot out of his neck while chastising you. You found yourself in an all too familiar situation, running errands when a drunken man approached you and began to hurl “that word” in your direction when he didn’t find your reaction to his advances to be appropriate: same shit, different day.

As you were looking for an escape route, Hiragi rounded the corner and snatched the man by the collar—it was almost comical to see the drunkard's feet dangle feverishly off the ground. With a scowl and a threat from Hiragi, he was stumbling off.

You sigh, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Hiragi. But something on my forehead must read, ‘fuck with me’ because this is becoming a common occurrence.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbles, “I just find myself worrying about you too much. Might give you my jacket to keep these creeps at bay.” 

Before the last syllable leaves his lips, he’s stuttering and trying to walk the statement back, “I mean uh…or any Bofurin jacket! We have boxes of these somewhere! Not mine, per se.”

You smile, placing a hand on his toned bicep. “I’d love to wear my protector's jacket.”

You need not say more. He removes his oversized jacket and places it over your shoulders. The smell of him and the warmth he left behind makes your heart flutter. You give him your best grin, “you know you’re never getting this back, right?”

“See? A pain in my ass. With a mouth like that, I’m goin’ to have to teach you how to fight.” 

You lean into his arm, “With a mouth like this, you might have to teach me more than how to fight.”

“Jesus.”

Jo Togame 

Jo Togame is the other person on this list who’ll give you a run for your money when trying to flirt. He may seem turtle-adjacent, but his rebuttals to your flirtation attempts are quick. 

You’ve been shooting Togame smoldering glances for the entirety of the night, and even though Shishitoren men surround him, he’ll catch you looking, give you a lopsided grin, and then turn his attention back to the group,

You lick your lips. The draw of his signature sweatpants, black, loose-fitting tee, and Shishitoren jacket is doing something to you. 

And maybe it’s because you’re on your fifth shot of mystery concoction, and the music they’re playing at the house party makes you feel bold and think that what you’re about to do is a good idea. 

With all the courage you can muster, you walk up to Togame. He tilts his head in your direction, but you can see amusement in his jade-colored eyes.

“Took you long enough. Thought you were never gonna get tired of starin’ at me.”

“Dance with me!” you yell over the music. You can feel everyone in the group sizing you up and waiting to hear how Togame responds. 

He puts his beer down and takes your hand. You pull him to the center of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been constructed. You allow the music to move you before you can talk yourself out of whatever is happening. Togame puts his hand on your waist and allows you to grind against him and to the beat. 

“You like the idea of making me nervous, huh?”

You stand on the tips of your toes to get as close to his ear as possible, “You caught me! Is it working?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No because I know exactly how this night is going to end.”

Your heart picks up a bit as his hands slide down from your waist and rest above your ass.

“How?” You squeak.

“With you grinding just like this on my dick.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he presses his lips against yours, his kiss hot and hungry. 

Your eyes flutter closed, and you agree that this night will likely end how he prophesized.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard x vault born reader. She's from one of the more messed up experiment vaults, when she uncovered the truth of the vault she runs away from it. The first interaction they have is when he tells her he fucking hates vault dwellers and she tells him "I don't really give a shit what YOU think of me". She's been in the wastes a good long while, has a lot of skills and they end up traveling together and getting close. The area she is naive in is sex her interpretation is it's boring, and hurts. He of course tries to explain that it's not suposed to feel like that. They become really close he asks if he can show her which she agrees, she cums harder than she ever has before he has to remind her to breath through it, maybe she squirts and is embarrassed he realizes it's new for her, tells her it normal and that he loves it. Bonus points for: squirting, choking, hair pulling.

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A discussion with The Ghoul reveals things that you never wished to tell him, including your views on intimacy, and lack of experience. When he offers to show you what you were missing out on, how could you say no? Tags: Not Beta Read, Prompt Request, Backstory for Reader, Virgin Reader, Inexperienced Reader, Banter, This one might be even more OOC for The Ghoul, Soft Ghoul, Smut, Squirting, Doggystyle, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Choking, Confessions (kind of) Author's Note: i know that vault 75 is actually like on the other side of the us from where the show takes place but this vault always stuck out to me so i needed to use it for the prompt lmao.  also thank you anon for the amazing prompt (and my first ever request :D) ! i hope this fulfilled it sufficiently!

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be traveling the surface with an irradiated man dressed as a cowboy who only kept you around because you could make him his drugs, you’d call yourself insane, and rightfully so.

But here you were, following after him like an obedient soldier, just like you were raised to be. For the past few months, you had wandered alongside The Ghoul, searching for your purpose on the surface. There was a deal between you two; he’ll travel with you, and you’d make him the chems that stopped him from turning into a feral. 

It was a reluctant acquaintanceship at best, The Ghoul keeping you at an arm's length, and you didn’t blame him. The reason he had difficulty trusting you fully was because you were vault born, which he made abundantly clear when the two of you first started traveling. You spent the first eighteen years of your life in Vault 75,  where you were trained, both mentally and physically, to become the perfect soldier and scientist that would bring justice to the surface world. That had been your life’s goal, up until you turned eighteen. 

Along with the rest of the top peers, you were selected to make your way to the surface. But before you could leave they provided a vaccine, claiming that it would build immunity against the radiation that still plagued the earth. 

In actuality, it had been a sedative, and you remember awaking some time later, suspended in a glass chamber. For days, months, years, you weren’t quite sure, you were prodded, stabbed, cut open. It was pure agony, moments that you only remember in your darkest dreams, leaving you panting and shaking. To this day, you still weren’t fully sure what they had done to you, but you knew they had quite literally taken things from you that you’d never get back. 

Somehow, you managed to break free of the sedative that they continuously pumped into your body, keeping you alive yet without control of your body. You weren’t certain how you managed to escape, but you remembered that your hands and knuckles were bloody pulps, glass embedded into the flesh, fingers broken and mangled. Even now, you could still see the scars that still lingered, and the way your fingers looked off, bones not set right. It caused you issues and aches, but luckily today was a low-pain day. 

A gruff drawl snapped you out of your reminiscing, and you looked up from your hand into the eerily human eyes of The Ghoul, who had stopped in front of you. “What?” You had missed what he said. 

“The fuck you doin’?” 

“I… my hand hurts,” you lied. “Sorry.” 

He angrily grumbled something under his breath, yet you watched him dig into one of the pockets of his trench coat. He pulled out a small pill bottle, and after double-checking the contents he tossed it to you, and you caught it with your non-injured one. “Keep yer head on,” he added before turning to keep walking. 

You didn’t have to look at the bottle to know what he’d given you: painkillers. He’d always give them to you whenever your pain would flare, and each time you reevaluate your relationship with him. You couldn’t figure out if he detest you or cared about you, whether he saw you as a friend or foe. He was a confusing person, and his hard exterior and guarded responses to your questions made him hard to understand. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, and if he heard you he didn’t respond, just continuing to walk away. Tucking the pills away, you jogged to catch up with him, keeping a few feet distance between the two of you. 

Looking around, you tried to make some sense of the dilapidated buildings and cracked roads, creating an image in your head of what you imagined the town to once be. Full of energy, full of life, able to roam without fear of being killed by man or creature, or fear of being slowly poisoned to death by radiation. 

There was a row of buildings on either side of the road, most caved in, but there were still a few that remained, windows shattered or boarded up. Rusted mental skeletons of cars littered the road, you and The Ghoul having to weave around them. Glass crunched underneath your boots, and you swore you stepped on a few bones. 

Glancing at the road, you noted how elongated the shadows were, and you didn’t have to glance behind you to know that the sun was setting, night right on the precipice of falling. Not wanting to become a late night snack for a deathclaw or some ferals, you cleared your throat, getting the attention of The Ghoul. He stilled, turning his head over his shoulder to look at you. “We should find a place to stop soon.”

You watched him debate it for a second, eyes flicking from the setting sun to the walk in front of him, then to the buildings on either side of you two. Eventually he came to a decision, sighing. “There’s a standin’ building’ down a little ways. We’ll stop there.”

You were eager to finally rest, the rifle in your hands was becoming heavy and the straps of your backpack were digging into your shoulders, so you had a bit more energy in your step as you continued down the street. As you reached the end of the street, you were able to see the building he had mentioned. It was an old shop of sorts, any signs long since gone, but it looked still relatively intact.

The Ghoul got there first, like he normally did. Opening the door with one hand, he held his gun in the other, raised and ready to shoot. He swept the room as he entered, and you follow hot on his heels, gun at the ready. 

In the dim light, you were able to see rows of shelves in the main area, a small desk with a register tucked into the left corner. There was a closed door behind the desk, and another on the rightmost wall of the building, also closed. 

Stepping further in, you were able to start making out the contents on the shelves: boxes and packages of food, no doubt beyond edible, labels faded away. But you also saw a few cans of food littering about, but you’d have to look through them once you’d cleared the building. 

Focusing back on the task at hand, you watched him peer into the far right room, before turning and speaking to you. “Check the desk,” he kept his voice low, as to not alert any possible dwellers. Nodding, you carefully made your way over to the desk, eyes rapidly scanning your environment. 

You tried to open the door, but it merely rattled against the frame, locked shut. If you had the tools, or the patience, you would’ve tried to pick the lock, but you didn’t care that much. Besides, if there was anything in there that was alive, it wouldn’t be able to get you. 

The desk didn’t have much to offer, either. Partial destroyed papers dotted the desk, and the register sat broken and open, robbed of the pre-war cash that once resided in it. You were a tad bit disappointed; it always made for great kindling. 

Searching through the rest of the drawers, you only found garbage, and after a few moments you gave up trying to find anything of value. You slowly made your way back over to The Ghoul, who had better luck than you with his door. You could hear him digging through drawers as you entered, and you were sure to make some audible noise so as to not startle him. 

It was a small living area, a twin bed tucked into the corner, as well as a kitchenette and small desk. A TV and couch sat in the center, and you saw another door, opened by The Ghoul, which you presumed was the bathroom. “Not bad,” you commented. This was truly one of the better places the two of you had stopped at; this at least had four walls and a roof. 

He grunted in response, still rifling through drawers. “Find anythin’?”

You shook your head. “I’ll go look again,” you responded, and before you backed out of the room you dumped your bag on the floor. You sighed happily at the relief, rubbing your shoulders as you began to look through the shelves again.

You didn’t bother to look at the boxed goods, heading straight to the few canned items you saw. The cans were still whole, thankfully, but the labels were long since gone. Shrugging, you grabbed the cans, about four in total, and brought them back to the other room, dumping them on the counter of the kitchenette. 

“What’s that?” You heard him ask, spurs clicking on the linoleum floor as he came over to you. The room was now illuminated by a small oil lantern placed on the desk. 

“No idea. But they’re still good. Probably.” You spoke as you moved to sit on the counter, legs dangling. Man, did it feel good to sit after walking all day. You reached for your knife, cursing when you felt empty space instead, your knife in the bag instead of on you. 

Before you could even get down, The Ghoul handed you his knife, the blade glinting in the low light. He pointed the handle towards you, and you took it from him, and you murmured a small thanks. You got to work opening the first can, hunger making your stomach rumble. The knife plunged in and out of the tin top, peeling back the rest once you got most of it cut. 

It was an almost gelatinous red substance inside, with darker red, round something suspended in it. It smelled sweet, sugary even, and you tried to tilt it into your mouth, but it didn’t budge. Maybe it had gone bad, then. 

Confused, you reached down to the drawer that was in between your legs, managing to get it open enough to reach your hand in. You grabbed the first utensil feeling thing you could find, and to your delight it was a fork. You didn’t waste any time, taking a decent-sized forkful and bringing it to your mouth. 

It was overwhelmingly sweet, and you’re sure you made some face, because The Ghoul was chuckling lightly. It wasn’t bad, but it almost hurt to eat, and the gelatinous nature of it made it stick to your teeth. “That’s whatcha get for eatin’ unlabeled food.”

You shook your head. “It’s not bad. It’s just… sweet.”

He hummed curiously, and you offered the can to him. You laughed when he eyed it suspiciously. “I promise you, it doesn’t taste bad. And I haven’t poisoned it,” you teased.

“I’m surprised you haven’t,” he grumbled, but he took the can from you. 

“I wouldn’t,” you grabbed and handed a utensil to him. “I rather like your company.”

See, as fun as it was to be out on the road, nothing but the endless horizon in front of you, it was the nights that you truly cherished. He didn’t talk much while you walked, keeping a literal and metaphorical distance between the two of you. It was like when he was on the road, he was The Ghoul, a cunning and vicious bounty hunter. But when it was just the two of you, secluded away in some abandoned house, around a fire, wherever, it was like the human side of him resurfaced, leading way to conversation and… friendship? 

You had no idea if he considered you a friend, but you knew you considered him to be one. It wasn’t like you had any other person in this wretched world, your “friends” from the vault turned enemy. As a wanderer, it was hard to build and maintain relationships with other people, so you chose to just stick with The Ghoul. 

And you wouldn’t lie, there was something beyond “friendship” that you felt for The Ghoul. It had taken too long for you to even admit that to yourself, so it was unlikely that you were going to admit to him. Besides, it went against everything that you were raised to believe, and even though you’d long since left the vault, their ideas were still ingrained into your brain.

“Not sure why,” he muttered before eating a spoonful of the mysterious substance. You were barely able to see it, but his upper lip twitched into an almost smile. You always liked when he smiled. It was rare for him, a genuine smile. He’d sneer and smirk, sure, but it was those true smiles that got your heart beating faster and your knees getting weak. You refused to name the reason why your body reacted the way it did, not wanting to face the reality that you felt something for The Ghoul just yet.

“It’s pie filling. Cherry pie filling, to be exact,” he lifted up another spoonful, one of the dark red balls on it, covered in the sheer red substance. 

“Cherry pie filling?” You said each of the words as their own question. You’d never heard of any of what he was talking about. 

He rolled his eyes, handing the can back to you, and you took another bite. You still weren’t used to the sweetness of it. “Fuckin’ vault dwellers,” he sighed. “Cherry’s a fruit. Pie is a pastry. Filling is what you put into pie.”

It didn’t clear up anything, but you nodded anyway, not wanting to annoy him further. “Interesting.” Taking one final bite, you set it next to you, moving on to the next can. You were in the middle of opening the second one when he spoke

“You mean to tell me they didn’t have pie in your vault?”

You weren’t expecting his question, and you halted mid-cut. He never asked you about the vault you grew up in, and you never told him anything besides the name and that you left. He made his opinion on vaults and vault dwellers abundantly clear when you first met all those months ago, back when your relationship was a tenuous allyship. You hadn't cared what he thought about you and your old life then, telling him straight to his face, and you certainly didn’t care now. But it was curious that he was willingly asking you about it now. 

“No,” you drew out the word, mildly suspicious. “If it didn’t have good nutritional value, then it wasn’t allowed. So no candy, no sugary drinks, no pastries. Nothing like that.” You answered while opening up the second can, and you recognized it immediately: sweet corn.

He didn’t ask any further questions, so you didn’t elaborate. Not needed to do a taste test of the sweet corn, you set it aside, then opened the other two cans, which were baked beans and tomato soup. Wordlessly, The Ghoul grabbed two of the cans, making his way over to the couch, and you followed behind him, the other two cans in your own hands. 

Sitting side-by-side, the two of you ate in silence, and you propped your legs up on the coffee table in front of you. The two of you would eat half the can before passing it off to the other. It was how you shared your dinners for at least the past month. 

It didn’t take long for there to only be the pie filling left, and you held it in your better hand. Even though you’d been free from the vault for some time, a part of you still felt wrong for indulging in a treat like this. Pushing those memories aside, you took another bite before passing it to the man next to you. You jumped when you felt his gloved fingers brush yours, and you missed the way he knowingly chuckled. 

Sighing, you sat back against the couch, ignoring the armor that dug into your shoulders, and you found your eyes flicking back down to your hand. You traced over the scars littering it, a familiar pattern to you at this point, and you flexed your fingers. They popped and cracked, bending unnaturally, and it caused a small jolt of pain to shoot through the nerves. You hadn't realized your eyes weren’t the only one on it until you heard the man beside you speak. “How’d that happen?” 

Now you were suspicious; he sounded like he actually cared. “Did you get replaced with a synth?” You asked, bewildered. 

He rolled his eyes in response, taking another bite before setting the can on the coffee table in front of you two. “I realize I don’t know a lot ‘bout you.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” you admitted. “But,” you added when he glared at you, “if you really want to know, I got it by punching something. Repeatedly.”

“If that’s your fist, I’d hate to see the other person,” he muttered. 

“Something, not someone. It was, well, glass.”

“Why the fuck were you punchin’ glass?”

“It was the only way I could escape.” You laughed humorlessly when he glanced at you, confused. “What, you think I left the vault freely?” You shook your head. “After my eighteenth birthday, they trapped me in a chamber so they could harvest stuff from my body, pumping me full of sedative and rapid-healing agents. Something about creating the ‘perfect human’. Eventually, the drug they used to keep me docile stopped working, and I was able to smash my way out. I’m pretty sure there’s some glass still left in my hand,” you chuckled, stopping when you realized he wasn’t joining in. “It’s fine. I’ve repressed most of the memories anyway.”

“Not well enough,” he muttered more to himself, and you couldn’t help the small bit of dread that washed over you at the realization that he knew about your nightmares. They made you feel weak, and you didn’t want him to think you were. 

“Well, I….” You trailed off with a sigh, finding it not worth it to try and disagree, sitting back on the couch. “Rude.”

“So you do have nightmares.” He chuckled at the glare you gave him once you realized you fell into his trap. “Are they ‘bout that?”

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked, getting defensive. “Why the fuck do you care? You haven’t before.”

“If ya paid attention, I said I barely know anythin’ ‘bout you. Figured if we’re gonna continue to travel I should know more besides your name.” He sighed before adding, “This ain’t an interrogation. You… you can ask me whatcha like.”

His reluctant openness made you feel more comfortable, and you relaxed a bit. “Really?”

“Sure, why the hell not. But answer my question first.”

There was silence for a few beats. “Fine. Yes, they’re about when they had me trapped. It’s… it’s mostly the pain I remember. And their faces, the people who raised me, who I trusted.  watching me through the glass. I forget most of the details when I wake, but that’s what sticks out.”

The Ghoul didn’t offer any verbal response, merely nodding his head slowly. You prayed that he couldn’t see the way your hands shook as you willingly brought up those memories in your brain. You shoved them away, forcing a light smile on your face. “My turn.” Adjusting so that your back rested against the arm of the sofa so you were facing him now, your knees tucked up to your chest. “What’s your name?”

He scoffed. “Out of all the questions, that’s the one ya go with?” 

“You don’t have to-”

“Cooper. Cooper Howard.” His response cut you off, and a small smile lifted the corners of your mouth. 

“A pleasure, Cooper Howard,” you smiled gently. It was hardly noticeable, but something shifted in him when he heard you say his name, but you weren’t quite sure what exactly. 

He cleared his throat while adjusting in his seat, his eyes flicking away from your own. “Better not make me regret tellin’ ya that.” 

Your slight smile fell at his semi-threat. “I’m assuming you don’t want me to call you that, then.” His responding silence was answer enough, and you didn’t press it further. “Do you got any more questions for me?”

“Plenty,” he seemed more comfortable now that the attention was off his past life. “Why the hell are ya still travelin’ with me?”

You thought of your answer for a moment. “I wasn’t lying when I said I enjoyed your company. And it’s not like I’ve got any place to go.”

“We’ve traveled to plenty of towns. Why don’t ya just stay there?”

“Do… Do you want me to leave?” It almost hurt to ask. You thought things were amicable between the two of you, and the thought of leaving your one “friend” was something you truly did not want to think about.  

He regarded you for a few moments, eyes dancing over your face. “I suppose not,” he finally sighed out, crossing his arms and resting against the back of the couch.

“Good,” you tried to not sound too relieved. “You’re stuck with me.” You swore you saw a smile tug at his lips.

“Unfortunately.” He didn’t sound too upset about it. “Anythin’ else?”

“Why didn’t you kill me when we met? I tried to rob you, and I’ve seen you kill people for less. You had the gun right to my head; why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

“That’s two questions.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “They’re the same damn thing. Just… why didn’t you kill me?”

“I dunno why I didn’t kill ya right away. Somethin’ made me hesitate. And then once I realized you was a vault born, I figured I could get a good amount of caps for you, so I kept you alive.” The Ghoul sighed. “I expected to only keep ya ‘round for a week. But then you saved my life, even though I had ya captive, and I couldn’t bring myself to sell you. That’s when I set you free.” He chuckled as he reminisced. “But for some fuckin’ reason, you decided to stick around, and I thought I was gonna regret not killin’ or sellin’ ya.”

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s three questions now, sweetheart.” Your cheeks grew warm at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time he’d called you it, but it always elicited the same reaction from you. “But no. It’s nice, havin’ someone you trust enough to watch your back. After years of solitude, wanderin’ this godforsaken Wasteland with you has been a pleasant change.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone regard you so kindly, which was insane because of who it was coming from. “Thank you,” you responded, sincerely.

“Before I inflate your ego any more, it’s my turn. Do you miss life in the vault, back before all… that?” He gestured to your hand. 

“Honestly, you’d think I would,” you chuckled. “No danger around every corner, no radiation, no worry about dehydration or starvation. It was secure, but so constricting. Every part of my life was monitored, from the foods I ate, to the things I did, to the people I spoke to. If the higher ups didn’t like it, they’d make me change. If anything threatened the ability to become the most optimized person, then it was removed. I’ve had more freedom during the time I’ve spent up here than I did for the first eighteen years of my life.” You took a breath. “So, no, I don’t miss it.”

It went like that for a good while, you weren't quite sure how long, and eventually the two of you finished off the pie filling. Questions were shot back and forth, and you learned some things about the man beside you that you never thought you’d know. He learned more of the experiments led by Vault 75, and your role in it. You refrained from asking him about his life before becoming The Ghoul, and although he didn’t say it, you could tell that he was grateful. He had long since shed his coat, draping it across the back of the couch, down to only a once luscious blue button down. His hat was also off, sitting on the table alongside the now empty cans. 

You had asked him about the strangest person he’d met, and he was recounting this one “doctor” he’d met in Filly, with greased hair and a rotted cap, selling ailments for quite literally every predicament. “Pretty sure he was fuckin’ the livestock,” he added, and you gapped at him, horrified. “Strange fellow indeed. But, after that it probably has to be this vault born I met, who no matter what I do, refuses to leave.”

“I’m second after that? I… fuck you!” You’d never sworn at him before, but now felt like a good time to change that. 

His brow raised, shocked, and he grinned at you. “Looks like I’m rubbin’ off on ya, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your own smile behind your knees, which were still tucked up close to you. “It’s your turn. Although, I don’t know if I wanna respond after you insulted me like that.”

“My apologies,” he responded, not sounding sorry at all, especially with the way he continued to chuckle as he thought of a question. “Did ya have friends? Lovers, perhaps?”

If you weren’t blushing because of the nickname, then you certainly were now. It was a taboo subject in your vault, having lovers. Romantic companionship was seen as a hindrance, a liability. “I had some friends, sure, but they all turned out to be back-stabbers or were taken like me. I don’t know if they survived; I couldn’t stop to rescue them if I wanted to live.” You shook off the bit of guilt you felt when thinking of the others. “But I wasn’t close friends with anyone. As weird as it is, you’re the closest thing to a true friend I’ve ever had.”

“You only answered half my question.” Damn him. “Any lovers?”

“No.” Your hand was looking quite interesting now, and you traced over the familiar pattern of the scars again. 

“‘No’? That’s it?” If looks could kill, The Ghoul would be six feet under right now. “Touchy subject?” 

You realized that no matter what you said, he was still going to continue to ask. Groaning, you let your head sag back off the couch, not wanting to make eye contact with him when you responded. “We weren’t allowed to take… lovers. There were no romantic relationships allowed in the vault; they were seen as a liability. And I know that they’re not, but it’s been drilled into my brain that they’re wrong, that they’re… improper, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

When he didn’t respond, you thought he lost interest in the subject, and you slowly began to lift your head back up. “How the fuck did you guys repopulate?” And there your head went back down, face burning. 

“IVF. They took the eggs and sperm from the captives, as they were the best genetically, physically and mentally, and then put them in the body of one of the scientists.” You chose to not add the fact that there was an entirely real possibility that you had a kid or two.

“So no sex then?”

Something like a groan and a curse left your lips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment and something else washing over you. How you wished for a raider or synth or anything to break down the door and kill you. “No,” you responded, and you missed the way his gaze locked on to you, intrigued by your answer.

“So you’ve never-”

“No!” You didn’t let him finish his question, not caring about what you just admitted to him.

“Not even after you left?”

“No.” You were getting really tired of your same responses. 

“Why not? It ain’t like you got your vault monitoring everythin’ ya do anymore.”

“Well…” you sighed, running a hand over your hot face. “It seems boring, from what I heard. I’m just supposed to, I dunno, sit there in pain while they use me for their own pleasure. It’s never appealed to me.” That last part was a lie, and you both knew it. You just wanted to hold on to some semblance of your pride that was lying in tatters around you.

He had the audacity to laugh, and you wished the couch would just swallow you whole. “I dunno who told ya that, but it ain’t like that. Not even fuckin’ close.”

Shakily, you exhaled, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t believe you were having this discussion, with The Ghoul of all people. His next words had you going deathly still, staring wide-eyed at the mildewed ceiling. “Can I show ya?” 

In just one sentence, he managed to change the entire atmosphere of the conversation, of your relationship. You wouldn’t deny, the idea of being intimate with him was appealing, and definitely not the first time you’d thought of it. What made this time different, though, was that you didn’t push those thoughts away, disgust and shame not overwhelming you. And it was also different because this wasn’t just a scenario that you’d played out in your head, alone while you slept. No, this was actually happening. 

“What?” You managed to stammer out, sitting up slowly. Your mouth went dry at the way he stared at you, almost hungrily. You squirmed under his intense gaze, which seemed to please the man. 

“Can I show ya what it’s supposed to feel like?” He repeated again, and one of his gloves hands crept across the couch, resting an inch away from where your legs were. “If ya don’t want this, just say the word, and we can pretend like this ain’t ever happened. But I can promise ya won’t regret it.” For once, you were grateful for his self-assurance and cockiness, as it bolstered your own confidence in your decision. 

It felt like five hours had passed before you nodded, and you felt his hand brush up your clothed calf, gripping the muscle lightly. “Lemme hear ya say it, sweetheart.”

Even though it was far from the first time he’d called you sweetheart, the implications now made your face burn even more. He made it sound dirty, and you had to take a breath before speaking. “Show me.” Your voice barely came out as a whisper; any louder and you feared it would crack.

You let out a startled noise when he pulled you close to him using the hand on your calf, the action effortless; you’d forgotten how unnaturally strong he was. You were now laying down fully on the couch, hair splayed out around you. He moved between your legs, hands now braced on either side of your head as he leaned above you. His face hovered a few inches from yours, and you could feel his breath as he spoke. “You gotta let me know if ya don’t like somethin’, deal?”

“Deal.” 

You shivered when you felt him caress your cheek, a surprisingly gentle gesture from the rough man you knew. He smiled at your body’s response to him. “Finally,” he muttered out, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for further elaboration before his lips were on yours. 

Unlike his touch, they weren’t gentle, almost bruisingly strong against yours. You groaned, and you could feel him smirk. The hand that had been touching your face settled, grasping the side of your face in a warm, gloved palm. The other hand remained braced by your head, keeping him upright. You found yourself latching your own around his wrist, the other grabbing a handful of his shirt, trying to find some way to keep you grounded. 

Kissing felt even better than you’d imagined it would. You didn’t think it would be so enjoyable, feel so good, so right. It was like his lips were made to slot perfectly against yours. If you concentrated hard enough, you could taste cherry pie filling the both of you had eaten. You jolted when you felt teeth tug at your bottom lip, a droplet of pain in the sea of pleasure, and your grip tightened even more, threatening to tear the clothing. You didn’t think he would mind. 

Energy pulsed through your body, and you found yourself unconsciously beginning to move, your hips moving in small circles. A familiar tension began to form in your lower body, something you felt during your late night thoughts of The Ghoul. Even though it was only just forming, you’d never felt it this intensely before, and you were desperate for some kind of relief. 

An amused chuckle left him, pulling away slightly to do so. You almost whined at the loss of contact, and you attempted to pull him back down with the hand that currently had a fistfull of his clothing, but he didn’t budge. “Eager?” It was a rhetorical question, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

“Please.” What you were asking for, you weren’t quite sure. Your words trailed off into a sigh when you felt his lips return, this time along your jaw by your ear. He left your cheek, running down the front of your body tantalizingly slow. 

“Where’s these manners comin’ from?” It sounded like his voice had turned raspier, and it elicited a shiver from your body, his lips still pressed close to your ear. “If this was all it took for ya to start actin’ all proper, then I would’ve done this weeks ago,” he teased, and his fingers ran underneath your breasts. 

Maybe it was his lips on your skin, or the way he pressed his body into yours, or the way he touched you, but you lost control of the words tumbling from your mouth. “I would’ve let you,” you admitted, and even though it was quiet you heard his breath hitch. 

“Yeah?” His voice had somehow gotten even raspier, and he groaned when you nodded. “Fuck, sweetheart,” his teeth nipped at your earlobe before moving further down your neck. You no longer felt his lips; instead you felt tongue and teeth leaving marks, growing more fervent as he descended. 

You let go of his shirt, your fingers popping uncomfortably, yet you paid it no mind. You rested your hand on the back of his head instead, almost immediately pulling it away, unsure if he wanted to be touched or not. But you felt him gently grab your wrist, bringing your hand back to where it had once been, making an approving noise when your fingers made contact. 

When he reached the strap of your shoulder armor, you felt him immediately get to work at losing the strap, and you sighed in relief when fresh air hit the newly exposed skin. He tossed it to the side somewhere, and it didn’t take long for your chestpiece to join it. The only thing left on the top half of your body was your bra and tank top, yet you felt completely naked, both because of the lack of armor and the way his eyes bore into your body.

His eyes trailed over the top of your chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in the swell of your breasts. You gasped when he took them in his hands, kneading and toying with the tender flesh. Even through the thick material of his gloves and your clothing, you could still feel his heat. But you wanted to feel him closer. You wanted to feel his bare hands on your body. 

Before you could even comprehend what you were doing, you were tearing off your tank top, throwing it somewhere in the room. You arched your back, your chest pressing further into his touch, and he groaned. Reaching behind, you had enough confidence to unlatch your bra and remove it, but not enough to look him in the eye. Your cheeks were burning, a flush creeping down your neck. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” you heard him mutter, and his praise gave you enough confidence to finally return your gaze to his, expecting them to be locked on your chest. And they were, at least until he felt your eyes on him. His pupils were blown out, irises gone, and the almost predatory smirk on his face made you look away again, the tension in your body growing. 

“Take them off,” you whispered when his touch returned. His movement stilled, much to your dismay. “Your gloves,” you pleaded. “Take them off.”

When he didn’t respond, you forced your attention away from the ceiling, breath catching when you looked into his eyes. “And here I was praisin’ your manners,” he rebuked, and even through the lust in his eyes you could see a playful glint. “C’mon, you can do better than that.”

“Please take your gloves off,” you responded immediately, not caring if you sounded desperate. “I wanna feel your hands on me, please.”

“Much better,” he practically purred, and you watched him bring a hand up to his own mouth, tugging the glove off his hand with his teeth and letting it fall, landing on your body. It almost felt wrong to see his hands without gloves on them; it felt like he was more undressed than you.

He wasted no time in returning his now bare touch to your breasts, and it felt better than you thought it would. Fingers dexterously toyed with your now perked nipples, pulling little noises from you. You never thought it would be enjoyable to have someone playing with your breasts like this, but you were happily proven wrong.

It was when his mouth joined the fray that your noises turned louder, his lips wrapping around your other nipple. When his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, your hips bucked right against his, and you felt him groan against your chest. Wanting to hear that noise again, you repeated the action, and your ears were blessed once again. 

But your victory was short lived, and the hand that had been by your head the entire time finally moved, pressing your hips down into the couch. “Behave,” you heard him growl, not halting his attention towards your chest. But you did see his eyes flick up, making it look like he was glaring at you, and you found your mouth going dry. You nodded, not finding it in yourself to go against him just yet, to see how far you could push him. You hoped there would be a next time.

He continued to lavish your chest for a few more moments, swapping his hand and mouth, continuously building up that tension in your core. You fought against the desire to move your hips, his “threat” still ringing in your ears. Your hand was still resting on the back of his head, trying and failing to keep your nails from digging into his scalp. A particularly hard suck had them biting in deep, but any apology you had died on your lips at the sinful moan he let out, followed by a string of expletives. You took a mental note to do that again later.

With a pop, he removed his mouth from your chest, and he let you pull him up into a searing kiss. His hand sneaked down between your bodies, which you only realized when you felt his fingers run beneath the waistband of your jeans and underwear.

He pulled away, sitting back on his heels, and you weren’t quite sure who was panting heavier. You immediately missed the feel of his body over yours, the comforting weight of him, and you couldn’t help the small pout that formed on your lips as you tried and failed to pull him back down again. “Please,” you whispered, hoping that your words would convince him. And you could tell they almost worked, his jaw clenching as he grit his teeth. 

But he didn’t relent. Instead, you watched as he began to slowly unclip your gunbult, your armor, your kneepads. Every bit of protection against the Wasteland stripped from you, joining the pile on the floor, leaving you only in your clothes. It was freeing, yet a bit nerve wracking, your chest continuing to rise and fall rapidly. 

You tried to lean down to help with your boots, but he swatted your hands away, silencing any rebuttal with a look. It took a few moments, but he eventually was able to remove your boots and socks, but you barely heard the sound of them hitting the floor over the loud heartbeat in your ears. He practically ripped off your pants, his patience becoming thin because of the boots, but you were just grateful he didn’t actually ripped them. Good clothing was hard to come by.

His gaze was locked onto your lower body as he eased off your underwear, the final article of clothing on your body joining the rest. You were almost glad to be rid of them; they were cold and uncomfortable, and damp, for some reason. But it didn’t seem to put off The Ghoul. In fact, it seemed to please him immensely, an almost proud grin on his lips.  

You quickly grew embarrassed under his ravenous gaze, his eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You tried to close your legs, or at least tuck them to your chest to try and cover you, but he was having none of it. Two hands, one gloved and one not, wrapped around your ankles, pulling them back down and out. “None of that. Lemme see ya.”

Swallowing, you relaxed, at least as well as you could. It became easier when you saw how much he was loving your body. His eyes jumped around, like he was trying to memorize every detail of you. “Like I said. Fuckin’. Perfect.” You weren’t expecting the sheer honesty in his voice. 

The hands on your ankles began to slowly trail up, making goosebumps appear on your skin. It was like your skin was a million times more sensitive when someone else was touching you. You got lost in his touch, your eyes fluttering close, simply enjoying the feel of another person. 

They shot open when his touch suddenly left, and you gaped at him, confused. You watched him adjust so that he was now sitting normally on the couch, resting against the back of it. 

You understood, though, when he patted his legs, wanting you on his lap. With shaky movements, you complied, but were once again confused when he stopped you, hand resting on your shoulder. Wordlessly, he turned you so that your back was to him, and you let out a startled noise when he roughly pulled you onto his lap, his still clothed chest pressing into your bare shoulders. 

Moving the hair from your neck, you felt his lips return their ministration on your neck, and your head rolled back, giving him more access. Both hands were on your body, ungloved one returning to your breasts, the other skating down the side of your body. You gasped when it began to inch towards your center, and you felt him chuckle. “So sensitive,” he commented almost absentmindedly.

You felt him grip your thigh, spreading your legs even farther so that they went around his own, now using his knees to keep your legs open. It left you completely exposed and at his mercy, but you felt comfortable, safe even. Relaxing fully against his chest, your head now rests on his shoulder, and if you strained enough you were able to look at him. It was clear by the expression on his face that he was enjoying this just as much as you were, if not more.

He reached his hands around your body, and began to pull the glove off his other hand. You stopped him with a gentle grasp of his wrist, tugging his hand to your mouth. Just like he did, you took the material between your teeth, and he was able to free his hand with a tug. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Think ya can do one for thing for me?”

“Anything,” you responded, and you felt two of his fingers, the middle and ring, trace your bottom lip. 

“Anythin’?” You nodded, not caring what that might imply. “Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind. But first,” those fingers tugged at your lip, “get those nice and wet for me.”

Even though you weren’t quite sure what you were doing, you parted your lips anyway, taking the digits into your wet mouth. Slowly, you began to bob your head up and down, running your tongue along the textured skin, barely tasting the saltiness of it. Whatever you were doing seemed to please him, because you felt his chest rumble with a groan. 

Before you could build a rhythm, he pulled them out with a pop, and they glistened in the low light. He didn’t give you much time to observe them, though, because before you could process he was running them through your folds. The sudden touch in your most sensitive area made you try and shut your legs, but his knees made it impossible.

His chest rumbled with a light laugh, and you were confused as to what could possibly be amusing him. “Guess that wasn’t necessary; you’re already so damn wet for me.” You detected another hint of pride, this time in his voice. 

Another swipe had you moaning, but then you felt his fingers locate something between your legs that made you cry out, your legs jerking involuntarily. “There we go,” he rumbled, and he focused his attention on that area, fingers pressing firm and slow circles into it. You weren’t quite sure what he was doing, but it felt incredible, the tension that had slowly begun to rescind returning. 

You tried to tell him, but it came out as a garbled moan instead. “Feel good?” It was another rhetorical question, and you yet again nodded, and you watched his lips quirk up. 

“Ghoul…” you moaned out, one of your hands reaching behind to hold the back of his head, needing something to hold onto as he continued to pleasure you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, something like self-consciousness flicked across his face, gone as soon as it came. “That ain’t my name, sweetheart. C’mon, lemme hear ya say it,” he almost sounded desperate as he talked. 

It took a moment for your lust-addled brain to remember what he had told you earlier in the night. “Cooper…” you sighed out, and he bit back his own moan, and you felt his hips jump the tiniest bit. 

“And I thought I liked hearing ya say my name, but fuck, I like hearin’ ya moan it a hundred times more.” You realized that when you had seen something shift in his eyes when you first said his name was disdain, it was actually the opposite. That realization had you smiling, and you managed to pull him down into a messy kiss, the angle too weird to allow a proper meeting of your lips. 

But it wouldn’t have lasted long anyways, another few moments of his fingers making you cry out again, that tension beginning to become unbearable, like it was just on the precipice of snapping. “Cooper.” It came out as a moan, but with a hint of confusion and worry behind it, unsure of what was happening with your body.

“You close?” 

“Close?” You had enough focus left to be confused, and even though his fingers didn’t yield, you felt the rest of him go still. 

“You’ve never… oh, fuck,” his voice turned husky, almost like a growl, “am I gonna make you come for the first time?” He sounded elated. It just created more questions, but another swirl of his fingers made all thoughts go out the window.

You fidgeted and squirmed, trying to escape the onslaught of things you were feeling. “Relax. I promise ya, this’ll feel good.” And because you trusted him, foolishly or not, you did relax, no longer fighting against him. It felt like you were a dam that was about to burst, and you barely registered that your nails were digging back into his scalp until you heard one of those delicious moans escape his lips.

That sound triggered something in you, and all at once that tension snapped, exploding like something that was pulled too tight. Pleasure ignited your body, making it feel as light as a feather. Every nerve in your body was humming, and you swore you blacked out for a moment. 

His voice, gruff yet a bit concerned, brought you back to your body. “Breathe,” you heard him say, and you realized the dizziness you were feeling wasn’t just because of the mind-shattering pleasure you’d just felt, but you indeed had stopped breathing. Inhaling shakily, you felt some of that dizziness leaving now that oxygen had returned to your lungs. 

An uncomfortable jolt had you glancing down between your legs, where he continued to pull every last bit of pleasure from your body. “S’too much,” you managed to slur out, your voice quite hoarse. He halted, thankfully, resting his hand on your thigh, still close enough to your center that you could feel the heat from his hands. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” He sounded mildly amused, and if your muscles weren’t currently jelly you would’ve hit him. 

“I… what did…” you said between gasping breaths, trying to get your heart rate back down. 

“You just came. Rather loudly, at that,” he teased, and your incredibly hoarse voice made sense now. You were suddenly very glad that you were in the middle of nowhere. 

Turning so that you were able to face him better, you felt the material of his pants rub against your bare legs, which wouldn’t have been too weird if it weren’t for the fact they were wet, borderline soaked. The hand that had just been resting on your thigh was brought into view, just as soaked as his pants, and you watched as he examined his hand, almost transfixed. “And messily,” he added, and you felt your cheeks burn even more than they already were. 

You opened your mouth, ready to apologize, but nothing but an airy noise left you as you watched his tongue run from up from his wrist to his fingers. A pleased hum left him, his eyes never once leaving your own as he continued to clean his hand, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, even better than the desert you had shared. There was a stir in your gut at the action, what you now assumed to be arousal coming to life as you continued to watch him. 

When he caught you staring, his lips twisted into one of those smirks that made your stomach flip. Turning fully in his lap so you were now straddling him, you tugged his wrist far enough away so that you could kiss him. You groaned when his tongue swept between your parted lips, his slightly damp hand holding the side of your face gently. 

With shaky fingers, you began to try and unbutton his shirt. You didn’t get far before he was suddenly standing, and even though he had an arm tucked beneath your thighs, you still clung on to him, legs and arms wrapping around him tightly. Not once did he remove his lips, even when he bumped into a few things on the way to the bed. It was like all that mattered was you and the way you felt. 

The bed, which was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, squeaked obnoxiously when he lowered you onto it, but neither of you paid attention to it. And it wasn’t like you had to worry about anyone else hearing. Like on the couch, he hovered over your body, arms braced on either side of you. His lips were back on your neck, giving you a few moments to take heaving breaths of air. 

For once during the entire night, you knew what was about to happen next, but even though you could feel anxiety threaten to grip your mind, you managed to shove it off. It was easier when you focused your attention on the man in your arms. His continued attention was nice, but you wanted, needed more. “Cooper, please…” you trailed off, hoping he got what you were asking for.

And you know he did, because you felt his lips curl into a smile against the skin of your neck, and he lifted his head up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so care-free, and the sight had your heart swelling, a small gasp leaving you as well. He looked good like this, and a part of you craved to see it for days to come. 

“What was that, sweetheart? I didn’t quite hear what ya said.” For a moment, you retracted your previous stance, embarrassment making your ears burn. You either wanted to kiss or slap that shit-eating smirk off his face when he noticed how bashful you’d grown. “I’ll give ya whatever you want. All ya gotta do is ask.”

Your pride and embarrassment were at war with your desire, but a winner was quickly decided. “Please, I need you, Cooper.”

Apparently that wasn’t good enough, because he didn’t move. “You need me to…?” You groaned in frustration, and you tried to get him to just forget it with a roll of your hips, trying to make him break. It seemed to almost work, but you felt him press down firmly on your hips, pinning you to the bed. “That ain’t gonna help ya. Use your words.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “Fuck me, please,” you whispered out, and it finally seemed to do the trick.

“Atta girl,” he praised. “Go ‘head and roll over for me.”

As much as you wanted to be able to see him clearly, excitement had you turning over anyway, now on your hands and knees. The position was revealing and it almost felt degrading, but yet again you felt at ease, anticipation making your heart beat fast. Turning your head, you were able to see him a bit, and a moan slipped from your lips when you heard the sound of his belt being undone, the sound of a zipper following suit. This was really happening. 

One of his hands gripped your hips, and you felt his still clothed legs pressed up against the back of your own. His cock, warm and solid, pressed into your entrance, a low groan pulled from your lips when he breached it. It was only the tiniest bit painful, not as bad as you initially believed it would be, like a muscle being stretched, which was earlier overshadowed by the pleasure it brought. He let out a groan of his own, the fingers on your hips digging in harshly. 

Inch by inch, you felt him press himself fully into you, both of you letting out similar sighs when he was fully sheathed. Cold metal bit into your skin when his hips were flush with yours, the buckle of his belt no doubt going to leave imprints on your skin. He stilled once he was fully in you, giving you a chance to get adjusted to him, which you were grateful for. You could tell that it was taking every ounce of restraint in his body to just sit there, though, and it only took a few moments until you felt like you were ready for him to move. 

All it took was you wiggling your hips for him to get the message, something like a sigh of relief leaving his lips. Slowly, he pulled out of you, fingers never once letting go of their grip. The sensation made you moan, and you could feel him everywhere, hitting all the right spots as he pulled out.

You grasped at the barely-together bedsheets, probably creating new holes in the fabric. It was less uncomfortable when he pushed back a second time, and you felt your head go limp between your arms, his name falling from your lips. He started creating a rhythm, hips beginning to pick up the pace. His hips snapped into yours, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed.

You could do nothing but take it, pleasure making you lose control of your body. Your cries were becoming increasingly louder, that familiar tension returning, and you tried to bury your face in the mattress. 

That was until you felt him grab a fistfull of your hair, yanking your head back up. It hurt, but it felt wonderful, and you felt yourself tense, a wanton moan louder than anything previous escaping you. “Fuck, ya like it rough?” His pace quickened, his cock spearing you relentlessly. It filled something in you that you didn’t quite know you needed, a craving satiated that you didn’t know you had. But now that you had it, you needed more of it. 

You nodded, at least as best you could, the grip in your hair keeping your head still. It took you too long to realize that he was using the leverage from his grip in your hair to pound into you. “D’ya know how fuckin’ incredible ya feel?” He panted. “This cunt was made for me. For me to ruin.” 

“Cooper,” you cried out, and he groaned in appreciation. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Who’s fuckin’ ya this good? Who’s ruinin’ ya for any other?”

You certainly weren’t expecting him to be this vocal, but you were far from complaining. His voice, which normally electrified you, was driving you insane, the tension building up tenfold. You tried to say his name again, but it came out incoherent. “Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed before laughing lightly. 

You were so close to your release again, and you could feel moisture run down your thighs, but you had little mind to be embarrassed now. “Cooper,” you were able to sigh out. “I’m… I’m close.”

His grip turned vice like, and you’re sure your neck would be hurting later because of the angle, but you didn’t care. “Let go. C’mon, lemme feel ya cum on my cock.” His words left no room for debate, so who were you to go against his orders? After a few more thrusts, you felt that tension snap again, pleasure once again washing over your body, making your arms turn to jelly. Panting, you collapsed on your arms, face squished against the mattress, the sound of slick skin on skin the only thing you could make out.

You didn’t stay down for long. Both hands wrapped around your front, pulling you flush against his body. He continued to thrust into you, and you felt another release begin to build, but it was too much. You made a sound of protest, something like you couldn’t come again, but he shushed you with kisses on your cheeks, which were damp with tears and sweat. “Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it.”

Nodding shakily, you felt his continue to fuck you, one arm wrapping around your stomach, the other holding right above your breasts. A startled noise left you when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, survival instinct kicking in immediately. With wide eyes, you twisted out of his grasp on your throat, panic evident on your face. 

He had let go as soon as he heard any sound of protest, but he still lingered close by. “You trust me?” He asked, somehow still able to form a coherent sentence. 

Your answer came immediately; you trusted him with your life. Why else would you travel the Wasteland with him? You nodded, a soft yes leaving you as you did. He pressed another grateful kiss to your cheek, a wordless thank you, and you felt his hand return to where it was. You still tensed when you felt his grip return, unable to turn off the instinct to be free of someone choking you, but you provided no further protest. 

Fingers squeezed against the sides of your neck, and like with your hair he used the leverage to snap his hips up into you. Even though it was harder, you were still able to breathe, your gasps and noises labored. Yet you still found yourself growing dizzy, the restricted blood flow making you so, which just heightened the pleasure you felt. 

Your third and final release of the night barreled into you, completely catching you both off guard. Your mind was so fuzzy; you couldn’t even get his name out. You were quickly snapped out of that haze when you heard him moan your name. Not sweetheart, not Vaultie, not any other nickname. Your name. 

He eased you to the bed, hand leaving your neck, and you let out a small whine when you felt him pull out of you. You felt empty, lacking, and even though you knew it would upset your overstimulated body you wanted him back in you. 

You had just rolled onto your back when you felt something hot splatter against your skin. You watched slack-jawed as he stroked himself to completion, his release painting your skin. The sight caused the flames of arousal to reignite, but you tried your best to snuff them out; you needed a moment. 

He sagged forward when he was done, arms once again bracing him from completely falling on top of you. Silence now filled the air, which was significantly warmer than it was a bit ago. It was you who moved first, grasping the side of his scarred face and pulling him in for a gentle kiss. It was short, but probably the most passionate of the night. 

When it broke, he sat up, getting up and off the bed and towards his belongings. You let out a noise of protest, and he just shot you a teasing look. “I’ll be back in a sec. We gotta get ya cleaned up,” he gestured to the remnants of him on your skin, and you watched as he fished out a canteen, before searching the area for something else. 

You decided to glance over your body as you waited for him to return. Your skin glistened with sweat, and you could see various marks littering your body; you didn’t want to know what your neck looked like, where he focused a lot of his attention.

The feeling of the bed shifting snapped you out of your examination, and you regarded the man who sat beside you with a soft look, and you were surprised when he returned it. It quickly turned into a scowl when you felt a damp cloth brush against your stomach and breasts, the cool water making you hiss. 

When he was done cleaning your skin, he handed you the canteen, and you took a few sips. You’d long since gotten used to the acrid taste of the Wasteland’s water, so it didn’t bother you, and you watched him finally kick off his boot. He was still fully dressed besides that, shirt sticking to his body.He set it beside the bed once you finished, before eying the bed that you were currently laying on.

“What?” You cringed at how raspy your voice sounded.

“Just dunno how I’m gonna fit.” In the back of your mind, you worried that he was going to push you away after all was said and done, so you were quite relieved to find the opposite happening. 

With a grin, you scooted back until your head rested against the thin pillow, before opening your arms to him. Shock crossed his features for a split second, before a grin of his own grew on his lips. He was still hesitant when he entered your embrace, but he relaxed almost immediately, especially when your hands ran soothingly up and down his back. When you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, he practically shuddered, his face nuzzling into your skin. You wondered how long it had been since someone showed him affection like this. 

You held him for a good while, your body calming down, and you thought over the events that had just transpired. Weirdly enough, you thought less about the things he had done and more of the words he said, especially right at the beginning. “Cooper?” You called out hesitantly, almost immediately regretting it. “Do… Can I call you that?”

He had raised his head when he heard his name being called, and you watched him debate it for a second. “Only in private. I’ve gotta reputation to uphold.” His response was gruff, but there was something warm in his eyes. 

It made you giddy, that he trusted you enough to call him by his true name, and you hoped you weren’t smiling like a fool. “Alright, Cooper. What did you mean when you said ‘finally’?”

He chuckled lightly, propping up a big so he could respond properly. “What, ya thought this was a spur of the moment decision?” He shook his head. “Sweetheart, I’ve wanted this for a while.”

You gaped at him, stunned. “You… you have?”

“How could I not? I mean, look at’cha,” his eyes trailed appreciatively over your still naked body. “But you’ve got a fire ‘bout ya. You ain’t afraid of this world, even though you damn well should be. You ain’t afraid of me, even though I’ve given ya plenty of reason to be. You’re a fighter, and I… I admire that ‘bout you. I-” He caught himself, like he said something he wasn't supposed to. “I’m too sober to be discussin’ my thoughts with ya. All ya gotta know is yes, I have.”

You were once again left stunned, so you let your action speak for you, pressing another kiss to his head, trying to ignore the way your heart soared. You felt him shift upwards, and he kissed your proper. It was another short yet passionate kiss, and when he broke away he rested his head against yours. 

“You wanna know somethin’, sweetheart?” His voice had dropped lower, and that familiar dark look was back in his eyes. So much for snuffing out the arousal you felt. He smirked when you nodded vehemently. “You wanna know the real reason why I always take first watch when we go to bed?” You felt his grasp one of your hands, loosely enough that you could pull it away if you wanted to, and he brought it between your bodies. You gasped when you felt the hard tent in his pants, having tucked himself away when he got up, but you knew it wasn’t going to stay like that for long. 

“It’s ‘cause you do this to me. You should hear me out there, moanin’ your name like I do, imaginin’ your hand wrapped ‘round my cock instead of mine.”

Your tiredness was completely forgotten, the pleasant ache in your muscles nothing more than a gentle distraction. “Can you show me?”

“Fuckin’ gladly, sweeheart.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Oh GOD, breeding kink with Ghost but he's actually determined to get his darling pregnant because after everything they've been through together, how much he loves her and vice versa? I could go on but it's just something to think about. I also strongly believe he'd be that kind of girl dad heheh

Couldn't Love You More (Ghost x F!Reader)

Left pic credit: @ vhenan_virabelasan on IG

Word count: 3.7 k

Tags/warnings: Tooth-rotting FLUFF. Mild, soft smut 🔞, crying (from joy), breeding kink (obv), comfort no hurt. All the softness and love.

A/N: Excuse me, more soft!Ghost coming through! I hope you like this take anon 💕

"I'm tired of using those things."

Simon rarely whispers, hardly ever murmurs, and never coos. But this time, his voice is deliberately soft. 

You sigh and put the condom package down on the table. This evening had been a nice change, a pampering for your poor, stressed-out nerves. He had done his best to take your mind off work ever since he got home: he took you out for a 3-course dinner – which reminded you of the early days of your dating – and it was all supposed to end in a good stress relief of a fuck.

You'd sent him suggestive texts all morning, knowing he was coming home today. Those messages were extra naughty because you happened to be ovulating, and juicy, and horny as hell.

And you know he has waited for this moment as well. Which is why you can't get your head around why he wants to raise the subject of using other methods of contraception right before you're about to have sex. 

Why would he suddenly start complaining when both of you are already naked – practically seconds before you're about to roll down the condom for him?

"You know I've tried, Simon," you sigh again – you don't even bother to disguise the annoyance in your voice. After all, you've tried basically everything to make it more pleasurable for you to make love without the risk of getting knocked up. You hate the rubber between the two of you just as much as he does, if not more. Apparently you need to remind him how the last attempt with the pill went.

"I become a bloated monster," you say, realizing you're pouting only when he laughs.

You absolutely love it when he does: it's a rare thing, even with you. Even after all these years of love and dedication, the warm, husky chuckle at the back of his throat makes your heart flutter and your head feel dizzy.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean…?"

The man has a tiny twinkle in his eyes, and the flutter in your heart turns into something heavier, more serious. He looks you up and down as if to weigh whether you're ready to take in what he's about to say.

"How about we just ditch the bloody things?"

Your heart is truly getting it today: it skips a beat or two from what he says. From what he implies.

"But you…” you whisper, still unsure if you're truly discussing the same thing here. “You said that kids are a bad idea." 

"They are." 

The twinkle in those eyes turns into an amused gleam, the corner of his mouth lifts up a bit from seeing you so shocked. 

And Simon never said he didn't want children.

It's just that he has avoided the subject like it's a seasonal flu he doesn't want to catch. 

He would make the perfect father: you just know it. Sad to say, but it was one of the main reasons you fell for this man. It's stupid, but it's true: women look for these things. They can tell if a guy would be a good choice for a father. They notice safety, security, the willingness to support and provide.

Biology and instincts be damned, you simply can't deny that Simon is the first man who made you think about what it would be like to have children. And of course the perfect candidate for a father thought that kids were a bad idea…

It seemed like a cruel joke, the way he brushed you off when you first approached him with your shy request. You pussyfooted around the subject, were as delicate as one can be, knowing it might make him uncomfortable. 

And it did. It more than just did.

He freaked the fuck out, went to work, and worked himself nearly to death – literally almost got himself killed, and you understood that this was serious. His childhood, his past, the dangers of his work – of course he thought himself unfit for the role.

Infuriatingly, it only made you more convinced that he was the perfect choice. The man was just so fricking responsible.

You barred your mouth shut after that. Instinct told you Simon might just leave if you continued the talk about having kids. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he would want to give you a chance to find someone to raise a family with before it was too late. 

It was his view of unconditional love: he was ready to let you go if need be. He would set you free if he suspected it would make you happy.

But then you saw him look at tiny kids – usually the ones that had just learned to walk – with a fleeting longing in his stare. It always turned into a withdrawn sulk, the gaze of a man who has accepted his fate.

He seemed to have the softest spot for little girls, especially when they were laughing and giggling or being unruly rascals, and sometimes flinched when a baby started to cry in the store. He looked a bit distressed for a second, and not because of the noise – but because he couldn't locate the immediate source and go and calm the baby. 

That's when you realized he actually wanted kids. The biological clock on this man was ticking just as furiously as yours. 

Years passed, and you silently buried your dreams of raising a little family together. He was enough for you, more than enough: you would not break up because of this. No man could ever replace Simon. 

But it still hurt. It was like a wound that never healed.

Until this night…

This night, it seemed he would not only cure it but heal it so well it wouldn’t even leave a scar. 

You suddenly find yourself under him – his moves are so quick that it's almost like you're teleported there. He sometimes does that: lets you play with him for a while, have your fun on top before reminding you who is in control here.

And this time, he won't even let you play.

"Simon, what are you doing," you sigh with barely concealed exhilaration. 

As if you didn't know exactly what he is about to do. 

He looks at you with that possessive look he sometimes has when you two have been apart for far too long. And there's something more behind that stare. It tells you that this is serious; this means business. The package you placed on the nightstand remains unopened and, apparently, will be the witness to his mission tonight. 

Serves the damn thing right…

You take in the absolute beef of this man: the bulk of pecs above you, the wide, solid middle that nearly swallows you every time you're under him.

You almost disappear between him and the mattress when you two are doing missionary, and it's one of the best feelings in the world. You've wanted to sink your teeth in to those huge, solid shoulders for god knows how many times. Once or twice, you actually did give him a little bite, only a nib, really, during a good pounding – and giggled at the breathless grunt of "Hey" that followed.

The trail of hair, darker in tone compared to the hair on his head, spreads over his abs which rest under a thin layer of fat. The happy trail, as you call it, runs down until it meets the heavy cock that always makes your mouth water like it's your favorite meal.

His hand is weighty, adoring when it comes to rest on your waist – the callous of his palms feels just the right kind of rough as he gives you the softest squeeze and a caress.

And he must know from the wanton looks you gave him all evening that he can just walk right in. Probably knew from those texts already that you've been wet all day long.

You try to spread your legs wider than they can go as he grabs himself to be positioned to your entrance. The fat tip of him feels heavy on your folds as he lazily slides himself up and down your slit, teasing the opening but not going in. It feels heavenly to sense him, all of him, with nothing there between you. There's no lifeless rubber: just his thick velvet meeting your wetness and silk.

The darned man won't even answer your question… Probably knows it's not really a question, just an astonished sigh of love.

"It's…not safe," your head falls back as he pushes the first few inches in – teasing you still by not giving you the full length and thick of him.

"Tired of safe, too," he rumbles softly above you, feeds more of himself in, and you tighten around his cock: receive him with fierce love and yearning. He groans at the sensation – it must feel divine for him, too. It must feel like it's meant to be this way. Now and forever.

You sigh as he starts to move, slow and intense, just the way he knows you like it when there's been too much stress and life has been a bitch. He always makes you feel better, always makes you melt in his arms when you run to him from the unfair, fucked up world. 

He's got some bad days too, and that’s when you ruffle his hair, scrub his back in the shower, give him a sloppy little blowjob, or make him his favorite dish, anything to make the tension in those mountains of shoulders disappear. 

You two worship each other; there’s no question about that. 

"Simon–ah… Truly, are you serious…?" 

"Hell yeah."

The idea of him cumming inside you is thrilling enough, but it's not just about that. 

You're ovulating, and he's a man in his absolute prime. He reminds you of mountain lions and snow leopards, living their life in harsh conditions and in wandering solitude until… Until the perfect companion comes along. He's simply the most virile male there is; broad, wide, and heavy, always ready when you are.

A man like Simon just cannot be infertile.

His eyes are half-lidded already, and those pale eyelashes make you bite your lip and grab his butt like it would be a life or death situation if he chose to withdraw.

And you know he loves it when you grope his ass and try to assist him with the thrusts. 

His little helper, indeed…

"Bloody fucking hell, you feel good…"

His head rolls back, exposing the tendons on his neck, thick, like the rest of him. Everything in this man is thick and broad and good – and fuck – he glides in and out like a dream. Somehow the extra layer of rubber has taken the brunt of his thickness away, but you feel it now, all of it, and it's something you could die for.

He grunts and thrusts, then halts for a while, chuckles all breathless…

"It's gonna be one hell of a show, sweetheart."

He's talking about what comes after. How it will be when there's a new addition and not a crew of two anymore. It brings tears to your eyes to see how he's already thinking about the future – and how he does it with a smile and a pleased chuckle.

"I'm used to sleepless nights," he reminds you softly. "You're not."

Ugh – he's thinking about your well-being when it would only make you the happiest woman on earth to take care of his children. Your children.

"I'll manage," you whisper.

"I know you will."

The tears are so close now; he’s simply the one and only person in this world for whom your love is boundless. It’s endless, overflowing.

He pulls back a little, raises your legs to rest on his shoulders, then crawls forward – he’s about to go deep, and the indecent but insanely sweet position makes you quail from him at first. It’s just too much all of a sudden.

"Wait–"

"The boys said this'll do the trick," he explains, waits until you adjust under and around him.

"The–the boys?"

He had been discussing this with his workmates…? 

Discussing which position is the best to help conceive?

"Yeah. Wanna do this properly."

This man might actually be serious… He just might be serious about this, and you still have difficulty grasping it.

"I can't believe you want this," you whisper, still trying to catch your breath on what's happening.

"Believe it or not, it's gonna happen now."

The smallest tear escapes, and you purse your lips, shut them tight to prevent a tiny little bawl from erupting. 

"I've always wanted you, Simon," you breathe into the air between you as he starts to make love to you, fill you with intent. "Just you, all these years…"

He rarely whispers, but this time, his voice is the softest hush.

"Right back at ya, darling."

"I–I want to give you… want your kids," you whimper, tears coating your voice as he continues the torture while the sweet, tight love surrounds you both.

"I want a family, Simon," you pant weakly, almost distressed. So urgent, desperate, like the wound is yet to be healed. You've never said those words to him before because you were afraid he might leave. 

"Love… fuckin' hell."

He has to stop to catch his breath, to catch the truth. Of course he has known it all along without you telling him, because he simply has those instincts of a wild animal. 

But words are powerful… They are magic. And this magic wants itself spelled out.

"I'll give them to you," he promises. "All of it. I swear."

Your eyes drift closed from the full wave of his vow. This mission is a crucial one, then, one of his most important ones. The man loves challenges; he loves when you up the stakes. Perhaps that's what this is about: he doesn't want to be a coward about the thing you both want. 

The skulls, the brass and death that always surround him can't take away the fact that he's a lifegiver. No matter what anyone says, men can give life, too. He has already given you so much, and now he's going to give you children.

A few more tears push through, and it's one of the sweetest things in your life: to get fucked by him so good while you're crying from joy.

"Luv. You trust me?"

You open your eyes again, and the sight of him is crystallized through tears. It's the most beautiful thing. 

"I trust you," you answer with a shaky breath.

Your trust is even more drugging to him than the tightness of your cunt, it seems. The corner of his eye twitches once, his brows knit together, and a pained look passes in his stare: but it's the sweet kind of pain, just like yours is.

"Feels so good," you whisper, looking up at him with devout love. "So, so good…"

"You're damn right," he sighs, panting with strained, short breaths. "Never felt this good."

He rocks you like you're under the sea, at the bottom of the ocean where the waves are mellow and the seabed is made of the softest sand. You're squeezed between his arms, tightly; he pins you to the bed with his body. The flutter of those pale lashes with every thrust is illegally sweet.

Your lips are bolted shut from the raw sensation, the swelling waves, but when a noise finally erupts, it does so with force. 

You know it makes him wild whenever you cry and plead under him. You know it sends him straight to the edge, too: when you moan and tighten around his cock, spread yourself for him to plunder while you're clawing at his back. You were so embarrassed the first time you noticed the red marks on his skin after your little sessions, but he was only pleased and said you should never apologize for that. His body is full of past pain and torture, and still, still, he allows, even wants you to destroy it even more.

"Faster, Simon, please…" 

"Yeah, that's it. Beg... Beg for me, love… "

And damn right, he's eating up your wrecked state like it's time for Christmas dinner, and the table is brimming with his favorite food. You're close, so close it would be torture, devastation if he stopped. 

"Ya want me to give it to you?" His voice is more rough, more commanding. God, he's close too.

"Yes–give it to me, please–"

Just don't stop, whatever you do, don't stop…

You beg some more, but it's incoherent. Just the way he likes. 

Simon–fuck…

There's no reason to it, just ah's and fuck's and love's, all knit together in a sweet, heady mess as you come– 

Fuck–!

…the orgasm is so intense it points your toes, makes you wrap around his middle with what little strength you have in your arms and fingers and those tiny little claws. Your nails sink in, somewhere between his shoulder blades: he's so wide you can't quite reach to hug him, but you latch onto him like a drowning person nonetheless.

"Oh–oh fucking god…!" 

He comes, right after, buries himself so deep that it stings a little, but you would never, ever complain. He pumps you full, doesn't even move, only arches his back to go even deeper, although he's already buried there to the hilt.

And never has he in all your years together sounded so vulnerable. He usually just grunts and huffs when he comes, but now you get a whole string of words and a fragile, broken pitch. He sounds as if he's near the point of breaking into tears. 

It must feel divine to cum inside you instead of a condom, and what's even more, with the intent to fulfill a mission with that shot. Give life.

If you don't get pregnant from this, well… you doubt you ever will.

He's lying on top of you in a heavy, panting heap, sounding like he's just done ten deadlift PRs in a row. You can't help but laugh, breathless, too, and caress him as he comes down from his sex high.

"You can let me go now," you ghost your fingertips up and down his back when he still doesn't move. It's not that you want him to release you, but he's simply too heavy to be lying all over you like this for long periods of time.

"Nah not yet. Gotta make sure..."

He thinks you want him to pull out, and you giggle some more.

"You're crushing me," you laugh. "And we can do this all weekend, silly. If you want to make sure."

His middle contracts with a silent laugh, too.

"Got a fair point there, love."

Finally, he lets you out of the spread. He pulls out, too – that's not necessarily what you wanted, but when he takes you in his arms, you don't complain.

"That was… so nice," you say, suddenly shy. As if this was the first time he wrapped himself around you in a post-coital embrace.

"That was the best."

He's so warm, and the arm around you is heavy, even when lax. Especially when lax. You feel soft and sweet in his hold made of pure strength.

"I'd be surprised if not. You were very determined."

"You think that did it..?"

He's suddenly shy, too. You could swear he has never asked such a fragile question during or after a mission.

"No half-assing with my sweetheart."

One could say he really used his whole ass on this. You know it, because you're the one who spurred him on with weak but eager hands.

"...but I think it would be best to try again tomorrow. Just in case," he suggests, and you can hear the smile. God, that you love him.

"I wouldn't say no to that."

You imagine him waking up to your baby's cry with a sigh and a jaw-dislocating yawn, hushing you back to sleep by telling you it's his turn to go. He would finally locate the source of crying and make it his mission to cradle the little breadcrumb back to sleep, too. You just know Simon would sometimes fall asleep on the sofa while the baby is still in his arms, sound asleep just like their dad.

And you also know the child would make him laugh more. He would have the greatest time hearing all the silly (not to talk about the clever!) things the kid comes up with once it started talking. Simon would listen with a straight face, at first – out of respect – but then he would come to you with an unrestrained smile and a comment: "Did'ya hear what that little thing just said? Unbelievable..."

Whenever the kid had a tricky question, you would send them to Simon. It's decided already. You imagine him explaining things to the child with his steady and calm briefing voice while you're trying to keep your giggle in.

And when the little one was big enough to run around and poke things off the shelves, Simon would embrace you from behind while you're pouring some morning tea and say: "Should we make another one, hmm?"

After all, your little troublemaker would also need a friend to play with...

There's a gigantic, peaceful smile on your face, and Simon should be snoring by now… But he's still awake, and the arm around you draws you closer. He even tucks his hand partly between your body and the mattress. It's the sweetest prison from which you never want to escape.

"What if… What if I get grumpy when I'm pregnant?" You start to chit-chat nonsense while he holds you against a solid chest. You know he will fall asleep soon, and you wish to voice some fragile concerns before he does.

"I'll bring you ice cream to keep you nice and calm," he mutters in the back of your neck, sounding drowsy already.

"What if ice cream won't help?"

"I'll bring you chocolate."

You smile at him having a solution to every problem, no matter how minor. 

"You're really not afraid…?"

"Of you being grumpy? Nah I don't think so."

"No," you laugh at him joking around. "Of… changes."

"After all that we've been through? No." He brushes his lips over your neck, and you turn a little to look at him.

"Simon... What made you change your mind?"

He thinks on the answer for a good ten seconds. You know that inward look, which is both a gaze to the past and a shaky, hopeful glimpse to the future.

"Don't wanna die without knowing how our kid would look like. What they would be like."

You swallow past sorrow – it's such a beautiful thing to say that you have to catch your breath for a moment. Then you put your hand over his arm, the one keeping you close to him.

"Guess I got tired of living in fear," he sums up the change of heart, and you have to blink back more tears.

"I'm tired of living in fear, too," you whisper, and he entwines your fingers together. The kiss that follows is like a seal to your change of plans. It's pure hope.

"Could you... Could you say that we'll be fine?" You speak on his lips as softly as you can. You sometimes worry that he's annoyed by your constant need for reassurance, but he sounds as solid as a soldier can be.

"We'll be fine like always. Promise you that."

He doesn't seem to mind: if anything, you could swear that giving you encouragement only makes his chest puff up a little. The man gets satisfaction from you needing him in your life like this.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

You ease fully into his embrace. He has said he'll take care of you many times before, but now your world is changing. It has changed already; you just know it. There's no more you and him, a team of two. 

There will be a tiny little breadcrumb too.

[kisses4lao]

Just read some of your stuff, absolutely BEAUTIFUL I might add. Can you sfw/nsfw headcanons do the Lin Kuei boys with a super social gal? Like she’s all energetic and is HUGE on the PDA? Can she also have big titties? (Totally not self projecting or anything)

Tumblr is still being mean and not letting me edit drafts ugh so this is probably gonna be really bad srry

Tw/cw: afab reader, jealous bi han, toxic bi han? he's his own warning guys, kind of just scenarios and not hcs, still hcs tho I cannot deny you all of that, WRITING THIS AFTER I WROTE EVERYTHING AND I FORGOT THE PDA PART IN BI HANS FORGIVE ME ANON, boobs galore, Kuai being a tit guy, I literally hate this so fucking much

Not proofread fuck you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bi han

Sfw

Wouldn't admit it, but he finds you adorable.

The way you're the complete opposite of him makes his heart melt.

You practically do all the talking in your relationship while Bi Han silently observes and listens.

When you're out together, he mainly stays beside you as you lead him everywhere.

He finds your ability to quickly make friends amazing, considering he was never able to do that(skill issue).

He can't help but smile when he sees you talk so kindly to everyone, whether you know them or not.

He usually wears his mask when you two are together because of this.

You'd most definitely be the person in the relationship to say "excuse me, he asked for no pickles", mainly because he'd refuse to send his food back because a meal is a meal.

Nsfw

Cool, calm, collected. That's what Bi Han likes to describe himself as. But it's much different when it comes to you.

My god, does this man love tight shirts. It doesn't matter what color, what time of the day, if youre wearing one, he's in the mood.

And he hates how much power you have over him.

He hates when you wear tight clothes in public, too. Mainly because it's extremely hard for him to control himself.

He sees how well you get along with others, how people stare at you with nothing but admiration, and he can't help but feel jealous.

More jealous than he'd like to admit.

Bi Han thinks that he should only be the one staring at you, that he's the only person who can give you the love you deserve.

He'd occasionally see other men staring, looking at your curves and the smile that Bi Han loves so dearly.

He hates the amount of jealousy that pulses through him, clenching his fists tightly as he tries his hardest to keep his composure.

When you get home however, he's showing you just how much he loves you, deserves you, needs you.

He can't help his hands from wandering your body, taking in every curve and relishing in just how beautiful you are.

He'd whisper praise as he kisses and nibbles lightly on your neck, cupping your breasts as a gasp escapes your lips.

You could feel the tent in his pants as he began grinding against your inner thighs, desperately calling out your name as he continues.

His breathing is heavy, fanning your neck as his teeth sank into your shoulder.

A surprised yelp escapes your breath as you can now feel his breath hitting your ear.

"Look what you do to me, you'll have to help me with this, you know."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kuai Liang

Sfw

He'd absolutely love seeing you socialize with others.

He'd love the way you can strike up a conversation with anyone and just turn such a bad mood into a light hearted one.

He completely commends your social skills and practically can't go anywhere without you.

Kuai Liang himself would most likely indulge in PDA on his own, so if you initiate, he isn't going to stop you.

He loves holding your hand in public, he loves making people know that he's with you.

He'll also kiss you in public, but not often. Like, at all. He prefers to keep something like that private.

But if you insist, he can't really deny you.

Nsfw

Two words: staring problem.

This man can NOT keep his eyes off you.

Seriously, who decided you can be THAT fine? He genuinely can't stand it.

He's in love with all of your curves, and he LOVES your breasts.

He genuinely can't help wanting to nap on them. Theyre big and soft, can you really blame him?

Kuai Liang would just, touch them. All the time. No warning, he'd walk up to you and just palm them.

Oftentimes, this leads into other things. Kuai is generally just a big fan of titties. Any size, any shape, any color, if you have them, he loves them.

So, he's a professional titty sucker. Willingly.

Kuai genuinely does feel comfort in bringing you pleasure, and if you both get pleasure from doing something, he's all for it.

But if you want to make a night all about him? He's more than excited.

He'd absolutely have you tit fuck him.

He kind of doesn't even get pleasure from the actual feeling, he mainly gets off to how you look during it.

If he was going to be completely honest, seeing you topless and pressing your breasts around his cock is so much more pleasurable than most things.

He'd be a complete mess while watching you, he'd grip the sheets in his hands tightly as he watches his cock disappear and come back through your breasts.

He whimpers as you begin to place kitten licks on his tip, hissing as his grip on the sheets tighten.

Seeing you like this never fails to turn him on quickly, anything that involves you turns him on, but that's not something he'd admit.

"Y/n- please,, let me cum already~"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomas

Sfw

Oh my god.

This man would be OBSESSED with you.

You're pretty AND social? He might as well propose immediately.

He's constantly around you, literally never leaving you alone, especially not in public.

If Tomas has to go into a public setting and he can't bring you, he isn't coming.

To him, you're like an emotional support person. You're usually the person who starts conversations for him, and he genuinely doesn't know what he'd do without you.

He loves how kind and naturally nurturing you are, the smiles he sees on other peoples faces simply because of you is something that has made him more happy than he's willing to admit.

Nsfw

STARING PROBLEM but worse.

Tomas is genuinely insufferable when it comes to your body.

Since he practically worships the ground you walk on, he worships your body even more.

If you were to ask him for literally anything, no matter what it is, he'd do it for you, but he has weaknesses.

If you were to ask him for something while batting your eyelashes, he'd simply stop working.

Because of this, sex with him usually results in him being a bottom.

Yeah, I know, it's practically cliche at this point to make Tomas a bottom, but have you SEEN him?

That man is on his knees day and night trying to please you.

He'd usually have you ride him as one hand would be on your waist while the other is firmly holding one of your breasts.

Sometimes he gets too in the moment and holds both of them, but can you really blame him?

Hes entranced to say the least. They're big, soft, warm, how could he not want to hold them constantly?

Even just touching them is enough to get him off.

His head would be thrown back is pleasure as his grip on you tightens, moaning out your name as he bucks his hips upward.

"Shit- hah,, y/n~ I'm so- ngh, close~"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Might disappear and never post again wouldn't that be fucking funny

[eepwriting]

thigh anon here, absolutely loved what you wrote so I'm back again!! might be too much idk but

could we please get another ivy fic, where the reader has feelings for him and there is some playful flirting between them and ivy, but they don't know if he's being serious so they break down and confess and turns out ivy also has feelings for them but was in the same boat of being unsure

ending with lots of reassurance and comfort (and maybe a passionate sex scene if it's not too much to ask 👀)

This Whole Time ✶ IV x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, intercourse, masturbation, slight angst

Omg hiii thigh anon!! I made sure to not delete your entire ask this time ha. Thank you as always 🤍

!! mdni !!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ⁺˚

You couldn’t deny the way your heart ached slightly every time you saw him.

He was always so kind, considerate of your thoughts and feelings. He was funny, charismatic, and handsome. The two of you had became friends almost 2 years ago, this little crush growing everyday. Sure, you could confess how you felt, but you knew you’d never recover if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe the two of you could remain friends if that was the case, but the reminder of absent attraction would always be at the back of your mind. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of your everyday life without him in it.

So, you remained just friends with him. You play along with his naturally flirty nature and pretend to not be affected by it, not letting him see how much you wished it was real. “Jokingly” flirting back. Just two friends joking around.

So when your phone buzzes with a text from him, inviting you over for “shit food and trash tv” you push your feelings down and think on the positive side: You get to hang out with your good friend!

Your heart hammers in your chest as you climb the stairs to his apartment later that night. It always seemed to do that before you saw him, only slowing down after sitting with him a while. You knock on his door before letting yourself in, kicking off your shoes at the door. IVs standing in the kitchen, leaned over, looking into his fridge. He hears your entrance and stands straight, closing the fridge door.

A smile reaches his eyes as he walks over, reaching out to pull you into a hug. He squeezes you tight, his fingertips lightly scratching up and down your back. “Hey, you.” His voice is quiet in your ear.

“Hi, how’ve you been?” Your hand squeezes his shoulder. He pulls away from you but keeps his hands on your hips. “Good, you?”

You nod, “Good. Hungry.”

“Well lucky you, I ordered your favorite.” He gently pushes you towards the living room, hands on your shoulders. Your eyes land on the coffee table, on it a small spread of food from your favorite take out place, plus your favorite drinks.

“Oh wowww, you’re really spoiling me, huh?” You laugh as you take a seat on the couch.

“I gotta give my best to my favorite person, don’t I?” He sheepishly shrugs before sitting down next to you. He grabs the remote, switching on the tv.

You hope he doesn’t notice the blush that rises to your cheeks. You watch the side of his face for a moment before reaching forward to open the food boxes in front of you.

You hear the theme song of a show you hate and glare over at iv. “Oh no, no.” You reach over him to pick the remote up, hitting the back button.

“What? I like that show.” He turns to you, his arm flying up to point at the tv.

You shake your head and snicker, “That show sucks, ivy. C’mon.”

“Oh that’s real rich coming from you. At least it has substance! Unlike what you watch.” He jokingly shakes his head in shame.

Your mouth opens in fake hurt, a hand reaching up to your neck as you gasp. “Wow. That’s quite rude, you know?” He just lets out a loud laugh as he pulls his mask up over his mouth to take a sip of his drink.

You settle on an early 2010s sitcom before grabbing a container of food and sitting further back on the couch.

Before you know it, the two of you are 4 episodes deep, food long gone. You sat with your back against the armrest, your legs lay over iv’s lap, who’s sat further down the couch. His hands rest on your calves, absentmindedly rubbing, occasionally squeezing whenever he laughs at something.

You watch as the two main characters share a loving moment towards the end of the episode. They vow to not let the small things break them apart, even the silly little conflict the episode had revolved around. You can’t help but to look over at iv as the people on screen share a kiss, wishing you could have a moment like that with him. You blatantly stare at him, too lost in the thoughts racing through your mind.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” You feel a squeeze on your knee.

You blink, your head shaking slightly as he looks at you with a look of concern. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” You shake your head again, looking back to the tv.

“No. It’s not nothing. You seem upset.” He pauses the tv and pulls you towards him by your legs. You couldn’t see your own face, but you felt that familiar ache in your chest, only assuming the look on your face matched what you were feeling.

“I’m okay. Just thinking about stuff.” You pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, crossing your arms over yourself.

“What stuff? Sad stuff?” His brows furrow. Even under the mask you can see the pure concern.

You can’t believe you’re about to open up about this. You’re terrified but you don’t know how much longer you can keep up this act. Keep pretending that your entire mind, body and soul doesn’t yearn for the man next to you. You clear your throat, “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“What are you talking about? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that right?” His hand rubs comforting circles over the side of your thigh.

You take a deep breath, your eyes close in a long blink before you speak. “Ivy. I like you. I really like you. More than a friend should ever like a friend.” You pause, your words getting caught in your throat. IV’s hand stops moving on your leg but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but I owe it to myself to let you know. I love spending time with you but I can’t just act like I don’t have strong feelings for you, not anymore.”

You look at him, frozen in his seat. You’re screaming at him in your head. To say anything to you. To give you any sign that he really heard what you just said.

It feels like forever before he speaks. “How long? Have you felt this way?” His voice is quiet.

You shake your head, not expecting that answer. “Since I met you.”

He lets out a breath he seemed to be holding, his head falling forward. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” He pulls you to sit fully across his lap and you let him, heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks.

“What do you mean?” You blink at him.

“I mean, I really like you. I’ve never said anything because I was so sure you weren’t interested.” He reaches up hold the side of your face. “I flirt with you and try my damn best make you feel special, hoping maybe one day, I’d have the confidence to finally say something. Even if it meant the end of our friendship. I’ve always wanted to tell you.”

You want to pinch yourself, convinced you’re dreaming.

“So… this whole time we’ve both just been torturing ourselves?”

He laughs softly, his thumb swiping back and forth over your cheek. “I guess so.” His eyes repeatedly flick down to your mouth. “Funny how that works, huh?”

Your mind races with thoughts of surprise, confusion and pure happiness as you try to make sense of his words.

You notice the way his breath quickens as his hand slowly reaches up to pull his mask up over his mouth. You meet him halfway as he leans into you, your mouths meeting in a hesitant kiss. It starts slow, occasionally interrupted by shy smiles from both of you. He tilts his head when he feels you grip the back of his neck, letting his tongue swipe over your bottom lip. A quiet and low groan leaves him when his tongue finds yours. His hands run up and down your back, squeezing your sides occasionally.

He gently guides you to lay on the couch, his mouth never leaving yours. He half straddles your hips and lets you pull him down so his chest is against yours. His mouth moves to kiss your cheek, across your jaw and down the side of your neck. A breathy whine leaving your mouth when you feel his tongue press to your skin.

Your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips to yours. You’re rewarded with a deep groan, his hips bucking into yours.

He pulls away from your neck breathlessly. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

You smile up at him and bring your hands up to cup his face. “I’m more than okay with this. Trust me. I’m just so happy that you feel the same.”

He nods his head and turns to press a kiss to your palm. “Me too.” His voice soft and sweet. His hand caressing your cheek and jaw before he pushes himself off you to stand, impatient hands working over the button and zipper on his jeans.

You take the opportunity to push your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, the two of you unabashedly watching each other undress.

He’s on you again before you know it, his mouth attaching to yours again. Your hands wander under his shirt to roam his back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. His hand cups your jaw as he kisses you as if you’re his life source. He presses his hips to yours firmly and you can’t stop the moan you let out into his mouth. The feel of his bare skin on yours making you impatient.

“Hold on, love.” He mumbles on your lips before pulling away from you. He grabs your hand and brings it to his chest. “I feel like my hearts gonna beat out of my chest.” He lets out a breathy laugh.

You feel his heart racing under your palm, yours not feeling much different. “It’s okay. Mine too.” You give him a small nod and smile. “I’ll help, okay?” You reach a hand between the two of you, your hand nudging his cock before you wrap your fingers around him. He lets out a deep breath at the contact.

Your hand slowly slides down his shaft and back up again, your thumb catching a bead of his arousal before swirling it around on his tip. He whines a needy mewl above you, his eyes closing. The sound only makes the ache between your thighs ten times worse. You want to watch him like this forever, but let’s be honest, you’d waited 2 years for this already and you were done being patient.

Your fingers continue working him as you bring your other hand to your mouth, gathering some spit in your palm. Your wet palm soon replaces your fingers, pumping him smoothly. He bucks into your hand, another whimper leaving his mouth. You spread your legs open further and angle your hips up.

He gets the hint, angling his hips down slightly, his hand guiding his cock to press against you. He locks eyes with you again before slowly pushing himself in halfway. He leans down to you, mouths connecting in a hot, open mouth kiss. He draws his hips back before he’s even fully buried, and snaps them back in with a quick thrust. It catches you off guard, fingers digging into his side, a moan muffled by iv’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve just waited too long for this.” A groan punctuates his sentence. His cock slips in and out of you with ease as he picks up his pace. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him back down to you again. His quiet grunts sounding ever so nice in your ear. “I wanna look at you.” He says as he pushes himself up, hands gripping your sides as he looks down at you.

You can’t help but look down to where the two of you are connected, your teeth biting over your bottom lip as you whimper at the sight. Your hand slowly makes its way down to play with yourself, your eyes snapping up to look at iv.

He breathes out a huff and quickly nods his head. His attention fully on the way your hand moves over yourself, as well at how his cock glides in and out of you.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar feeling in your lower half to blossom. You could tell iv was on the edge as well, his movements loosing the fluidity they once had. He bends down to pepper small kisses on your cheek. “You gonna cum with me?” He hums as you quickly nod, your mouth opening in a silent cry, your climax crashing over you. Your hips buck up to him as you grip his bicep, a long string of moans leaving you.

IV’s release is right behind yours. His brows furrowed, mouth hung open slightly, eyes squeezed shut. He lets himself collapse over you, but still careful to not use his full weight. His head is in the crook of your neck, his breathing fast and shallow. You feel his hips spasm against yours, the movement sending a weak shock through you.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pushing himself up. You both let out a soft groan as he pulls out of you. He looks down at you with a relaxed smile, his hand reaching out to smooth over the top of your head. “You’re telling me, we could’ve been doing that this whole time?” He chuckles.

You laugh, lightly nudging him with your knee. “I guess so.”

He helps you sit up before walking you to the bathroom, soaking a washcloth with warm water before he gently cleans you up. He helps you get dressed before running to the kitchen to get you some water.

He joins you back on the couch, his arm falling around your shoulders as you cuddle up to him. The two of you knowing you’d not regret the decision to open up about how you felt this whole time.

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This is looong sorry, I got a little carried away.

Absolutely loved this idea! Hope you enjoyed anon! 🤍

K. Bye bye.

[lvlyghost]

I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS SO MUCH 😩❤️😍 the way you characterize ghost is so good I can't 😭❤️ I wanted to ask if you could maybe write something for me since your writing style is sooo good frfr

How about ghost and reader have an argument that was started by ghost and he goes a bit too far breaking the reader and making them cry and be just a shell of themselves how would he feel when he sees the readers state and how would he fix it with a happy end please

Broken Wings

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: After a night out, things seem to take a turn in your relationship with Ghost.

Word Count: 2.1k

Tw: angst, hurt/comfort, self doubt, jealousy, probably ooc!simon, curse words. lots of grammar mistakes, poorly edited you know the drill🐝

A/N: i loved this request sooo much, though i did have a lot of trouble when writing it since i wasn't feeling too inspired. also had two different stories but ended up deciding to post this one i might post the other one idk, hope you like this anon! I did try my best🫶🏻🤍🩷✨corrections are appreciated; remember english isn't my native language 🐸

Masterlist✨

"I like you." You said with big bright eyes.

"But no one can know about this. Just you and I. That's enough." He answered, hand tracing the side of your face.

You blink rapidly. You have always been daydreamer. It caused you tons of problems although you tried to do your best when you were out on missions. Ghost is walking ahead of you, boots sinking in the sand beneath your feet. The waves crashing on the shore is something you like listening to and seeing too but under different circumstances. Both of your gear clink with every step you take, it's the only sound as well as the sea that swallows the tense silence that falls between the two.

Things have been rather... strange since two days ago and you've tried to talk to him about it. It wasn't weird for Ghost to push you back every now and then, he was a complicated person and you couldn't be more different from one another.

You were the sun and he was the darkness that came at night or so he had said one night at the common room back at the compound. He was stoic, grumpy and hardly found himself enjoying somebody's company. You on the other hand, even though you wouldn't consider yourself the most outgoing person like Johnny, still you liked talking unlike him. You loved going out with the task force. And most importantly you loved when Ghost joined because you loved him, you loved having him around, despite his gruff responses or annoyed looks.

You jog though your legs shake and tiredness sets in your body.

"How much farther until we get there?" You ask, ignoring the fact that his frame goes rigid when you speak . He doesn't acknowledge you at first. All you hear is a small sigh leaving his lips. You kind of wish he wasn't wearing the damn sunglasses so you could see his eyes.

They always said a lot.

"Thirty minutes. Give or take." The answer is short and cold, breaking your heart a little more than before. Still, you decide to try again.

"Sir, is something bothering you?" Before he can stop it he scoffs, shaking his head. "What?" Brows furrowing on your features. "Simon..."

He stops all of the sudden, turning to face you with a tense stance.

"First of all don't bloody use my name out here. Secondly it's your own fault we've been walking for hours. So don't go asking if something's bothering me, Sergeant."

Taking a step back you open your mouth.

"My fault? I was doing my job!"

"Didn't know your job was to get your fucking head blown off!!" He seethes. "Fucking hell you can't be this reckless and expect me to clap at your poor acting on the field." Your heart begins to race, he had never said such things to you. Taking a small step back your grit your teeth, you hated that his words were making your eyes blurry. This was the Simon you never wanted to see. And yet there he was. "Now we lost the damn intel thanks to you." He spits. But something isn't adding up.

"It's not just that. You've been acting strange for a few days now, Ghost. Don't come and tell me it's just because I did what I was supposed to do!" He stiffs yet again. Jaw clenching so hard you fear he might break it. "Not missing the way you avoid me ever since..." you close your mouth shut. "The pub..." he shifts his weight from one foot to another. The waves are increasing and now reach your feet, dampening your boots. And then you remember him storming off the local pub before he even finished his own drink. Everyone had heard the hard slap to John's arm when he had tried to calm him down. God why didn't you pay more attention to that moment? Because you both had agreed to keep your distances? And going after him was out of discussion? Then the next day you'd barely seen him, just for a short moment during debriefs and that was it. The moment you had gotten up from your seat he was gone. And today you were supposed to go to a special op that had soon become a problem that eventually led to the two of you in the middle of a beach, it was a cloudy day and if it weren't for the heavy layers you wore you're certain you'd be shaking. Sometimes –and you were ashamed of it– you were oblivious to many things and it seemed that Ghost's anger toward you was one of them this time. "What happened?"

He inhales deeply.

"It's over. That's what happened."

Your heart sinks and you swallow hard. Your whole body loses color when he mutters those two words. Out of all the things, all the possibilities you thought he'd say to you, he decided to end everything. Shaking your head you try to touch his hand but he doesn't let you.

"Ghost where is all of this coming from I don't understand!" You choke out. "We were fine..."

"No. You were fine. If I wasn't enough you should've just said so."

"Stop... you... what the hell are you talking about???"

"Nothing that matters anymore. Keep walking and don't say another word. That's an order."

He turns and keeps walking as if nothing just happened. As if he didn't just completely broke your heart.

'You were fine'.

What was that supposed to mean? You think, walking a few meters behind him, scared to even say anything else; to even try to grab him by the arm and force him to talk. It would only make things worse right now.

By the time you reach the safe house it's started to rain the silence between the two is deafening and tense. Ghost's cold demeanor and hurtful words have left a scar. Never in a million years would you think you'd be here, with a broken, shattered heart and no explanation from his part.

Words that pierced through your soul.

That day something died inside you. And he was the reason.

-

Two weeks, three days and seven hours.

That's the time that's passed since that day at the beach. Two weeks since Simon broke you and gave you no reasons.

You're a disaster.

You barely eat or get any sleep. There's dark circles under your eyes and you're sure you've lost some weight too. Ghost has been gone on a mission alone with Johnny for a week now, which left you with a lot of spare time to think about the two of you.

More tears stream down your face when you remember that day. Had you missed something important? Was Ghost's mind somewhere dark? Somewhere it shouldn't be? God knows he was... difficult to say the least. But every single time you tried, tried to be there for him. Did those late nights at your home meant nothing? Had he not seen the way you looked at him? Had you not shown him enough of your affection? Everything you'd do for him if he simply asked?

Getting up from your bed you get ready for another day. Not bothering to lace your boots just shoving them inside your shoes you walk down the hallways until you get to the training room. Gaz is talking to John in the far corner, the Captain's arms are crossed over his chest while Kyle frowns and shakes his head. You don't to even go and salute them as you normally would do, instead you put your earphones on and hit the treadmill.

It doesn't last long though; after one minute someone stops it by pressing down the off button. Your brows knitted together as you stop, turning to look up at Gaz who smiles politely.

"Sorry for that, sweetheart. You okay?" You nod, but say nothing more. "Come here." He pats your shoulder and helps you down from the treadmill. If you could smile now you would. But no even the faintest, softest grin leaves your lips. Gaz takes a quick glimpse at your face and rubs the back of his neck. "You know, Soap and Ghost just got back. Heard Lt. was asking about you."

"Oh." You murmur. "Okay." You don't move nor dare to meet his eyes. "I'll just head back to my room."

"Uhmm. I- what I meant is he's looking for you..." Shaking your head you walk away, not having the energy to face Simon right now. And why did he need to see you? Made pretty clear that you two were done, therefore was no need to see each other unless it was work related.

-

"You really do like it here don't you." Your body goes rigid. This was supposed to be your safe place. The roof of the armory was rarely visited by anyone at this hour. Simon's voice seems softer than ever before but you don't answer. Not even turn to acknowledge him. You hear muttered words and then he crouches down to your level. "Price said you're not eating. Do we have to send you to the military counselor now?" How dare he? After all he caused this. You know he doesn't mean it in bad way, somehow he cares for you deep down. Your hands ball into fists, fighting the urge to snap at him, to push him down and just break him the way he broke you. But you don't because you still love him, and could never bring yourself to hurt him. Simon is staring intently at you, waiting, hoping for any sign. He knows he shouldn't be here. Bloody hell he knows you shouldn't even look his way never again. He deserves it. Every bit of it. "Talk to me, love. Please." It's a low whisper. A plea.

"What do you want Ghost?" You ask softly. Simon leans closer, sitting down with his legs propped up against his chest and arms resting on his knees. It's a funny look for someone his size.

"Jus' wanted to see you." You scoff playing with your hands, refusing to lock eyes with him because if you did you'd be done. "Wanted to explain..."

"Then just do it!" You sob. Your lower lip trembles. "And then leave."

"Fine." He agrees. "But I'm not leaving. I- I made a mistake, and took it out on you okay? I was scared."

"Scared?" Your head snaps to where he is sitting. It's painful just to look at him. "Why would you be scared Ghost?" You retaliate

He grumbles, never fancied when you called him that when you were alone. Quite the contradiction given the fact that he told you not to call him his name that day at the beach.

"Because I saw you." He points out. "That night. Everything you're missing for being with someone like me. Can't even show proper affection because it's not me... and you deserve more than that. More than me."

"Ghost..."

"No. Lemme finish, love." He swallows. It's always amusing how controlled he seems. "I lost it, yeah? You looked so happy. How on earth do I deserve you, on what universe do I deserve ya'?"

Sucking in a sharp breath you recall the moments that preceded the events. The sound of music blasting through the speakers, when you joined the rest of the soldiers on the other side of the pub. Private Miller had slung his arm over your shoulders in a friendly manner. You laughed and drank too much that night, it was joyful. Everyone was there, your team. You never thought he felt that way about it.

"Oh my... Simon." You cover your mouth and cry silently. He hesitated for a moment before pulling you close and into his lap. "Should've known something was wrong. Forgive me... I should've stayed with you, follow you after you left." You cry out.

You were scared too, for very different reasons. That he'd get tired of you eventually, that if you weren't cautious enough your secret would be known. Both would get suspended thus separated and discharged.

"No, love. You shouldn't have to go running after me. I should be running after you. Now forgive me, say you will. Or else I might just lose myself for good." You cradle his face in your hands lifting the balaclava just above the bridge of his nose. Thumb tracing his lower lip. Your tears have dried.

"I've missed you so much, Simon. All you gotta do is talk to me, always." He tightens his grip around you. "You think Price would let us go home tonight and not ask questions?"

His chuckle is short and soft.

"Yeah. I think he's known for a while now."

[riality-check]

Steddie with "Is this okay?" or "I saved you a seat." for the i love you without saying it thingy, please...if you're still doing it. :)

I'm super late on this, but here we go, anon! Is this okay? was done here, so I'm doing I saved you a seat.

"In the back, Henderson," Steve calls.

Dustin kind of hates that Steve isn't a loser anymore. He's back to his cool self, which means he's wearing sunglasses and doesn't look away from the road as he talks to Dustin.

He sputters. "Why? I get shotgun!"

"You get shotgun unless we're picking up Max."

"Are we picking up Max?"

"No," Steve says, finally turning to look at Dustin over the frames of his sunglasses.

Dustin wants to break them, but if he does that, Steve will probably stop driving him around.

He kind of needs Steve to keep driving him around. His mom is busy, and God knows Mr. Wheeler won't do it anymore.

"Get in the back or don't get in at all," Steve says.

Dustin rolls his eyes and gets in the back of the Beemer. Steve doesn't even ask if he's good to go before he pulls away from his house and down the street.

He doesn't usually, but a little warning would have been nice.

"I thought we were going to the arcade," he says.

"We are."

"No, we're going in the wrong direction."

In the rearview mirror, Dustin can see Steve sigh so heavily his shoulders move.

And he says Dustin is dramatic.

Steve flips his sunglasses onto his head, pushing his hair back, when they get to shadier streets. "I'm doing someone a favor, then I'm dropping you at the arcade to hang out with your friends. That okay?"

Dustin isn't really listening, not as Steve turns the car into Forest Hills. "I thought you said we weren't picking up Max."

"We're not."

"I know you're not very verbose, but could you give me answers that are more than two words?" Dustin snaps.

Steve parks the Beemer in front of Eddie's trailer and turns back to face Dustin. "Is this answer enough?"

He beeps the horn, and thirty seconds later, the front door slams open. Eddie nearly trips right out of it, all black-clothed, gangly limbs, enough metal on his outfit for Dustin to hear him jangling before he even gets in the Beemer.

"Saved you a seat," Steve says as Eddie opens the passenger seat door.

It takes Dustin a full ten seconds to realize that the smile Steve has on his face is the same one he'd use on girls at Scoops.

Wait.

"Thanks, Stevie," Eddie says, words as rushed as he seems to be. "I don't know when my van is going to get out of the shop, and Wayne needs the truck-"

"It's no problem," Steve says.

Stevie?

Dustin, for once, is speechless. The way Steve drives with one hand as Eddie takes his other one and starts toying with it has something to do with it.

When his mouth can finally catch up to his brain, he asks, "How long have you two been dating?"

"What?" they say.

Eddie drops Steve's hand like it's burning him, and Steve nearly brake-checks them in the middle of Main Street.

"We're not-"

"Why did you-"

"He doesn't-"

"I-"

"Arcade, Henderson!" Steve yells, cutting off the conversation completely. "Get out, have fun with whatever quarters your mom gave you, get a ride with someone who isn't me, thanks!"

"You aren't-"

"Get out or I will keep driving this car with you in it," Steve warns.

Eddie stares, dumbfounded, between Dustin and Steve. His eyes move like he's watching a tennis match.

"Okay," Dustin says, throwing his hands up. He gets out of the car, and not five seconds after he shuts the door, Eddie and Steve start talking.

Loudly.

He'd stay, but he's already late.

He goes into the arcade, straight to the Dig Dug machine where the rest of the party is waiting.

"Dustin, where were you?"

"Did you guys also think Steve and Eddie were dating, or was that just me?"

Max looks away from the machine, causing her to die in the game. "They're not?"

"Apparently."

"When did you find that out?" Lucas asks, looking a little distracted.

"About a minute ago."

"I think things might have changed since then," Lucas says, pointing to the window.

All of them rush to it and look outside. The Beemer is still in the parking lot. Eddie and Steve are still in it, and they're-

"Oh, God, no."

"This is like watching my parents kiss."

"Why Steve?" Mike moans, letting his head drop against the windowpane again and again. "Why did he have to pick Steve? I thought Eddie was better than this."

"It's kind of sweet."

They stare in silence. It's like a car wreck. It's impossible to look away.

Max shakes her head. "You guys made me waste a quarter on Dig Dug. I'm going back to playing."

"Hey, wait up!"

The rest of them rush back. Dustin is the last to look away.

And he laments the fact that he's never riding shotgun again.

Prompts here.

[vampsquerade]

CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE US HARD DOM KÖNIG WITH A FEMALE READER i just need that big hunk of man meat to dominate me- dies

DOM KÖNIG YES I LIVE FOR DOM KÖNIG SO FUCKING MUCH UGHHHH I WANT HIM TO CRUSH MY HEAD WITH HIS THIGHS AND BICEPS UGHHHAVBAHSHSH THANKS ANON I KINDA WENT WILD WITH IT

(also pls forgive there might be some annoying mistranslations istg i’m learning german i promise also sorry for not answering dms and stuff you’re gonna have to give me a minute cause i’m very prone to anxiety after being off my meds for a bit)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

König x Female!Reader: Royalty’s Cruelty

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, smut, rough sex, dom!könig, sub!reader, spanking, bondage, fingering, orgasm denial, degradation, asphyxiation, aftercare

Wanton and loud cries of pleasure for your beloved military boyfriend fell from your lips each and every time his large, callous hands came into contact with the skin of your ass. “I thought I warned you about what would happen if you teased me while I was on a mission—you know damn well you deserve this kind of punishment.” König scolds venomously, pure malice and sadism dripping as he speaks. “I-I’m sorry!” you cry out as his hand smacks loudly against your skin once more. “Halt deine Hurenmaul! I don’t want to hear you telling me you’re sorry!” He commands. Tears stream down your face pathetically, whimpering in pain as he stops momentarily. “The very knee you’re bent over is the same one I use to kill my enemies—do you want to hear just how exactly it is that I do it?” he says coldly.

“H-Hah…~ What do you do to them with this knee..?” you ask softly, not wanting to further incur his wrath. König’s hand then tightly grips at your flesh with the strength of a hawk’s talons, making your severely sore ass sting even more. A sob emits from you, turning your head slightly so you can look up at him, “I snap their spines and necks on here…I even go so far as to cave their heads in…” He says in a chilling tone, chuckling darkly. His eyes are shrouded with the mists of sadism, relishing in the sight of you pathetically bent over his knee. “Now tell me—just because you’re my cute little liebling, do you think I should offer any semblance of mercy to you? Do you think you really deserve it even after I warned you?”

You hesitate on what to say, swallowing your saliva hard. Your mind is racing as you try and get a hold of yourself as you hear just how evil König’s voice sounded. “Don’t make me impatient, liebling. Your punishment is just starting and you know how much I hate wasting my time.” König warns. Body tensing in anticipation, you just nod, “N-No…not even I deserve your mercy…I willingly put myself into this position…” You whimper softly, yelping loudly once he begins to fondle your flesh. “Good girl—not even my liebling deserves my mercy…” König says. His hand then travels off your ass and to your dripping cunt, gently stroking his hand from your clit down to your core that twitches with each and every movement.

“Mmpf..!~ König…~” you moan softly, not even able to hold yourself back. “I don’t think I gave you permission to speak. Not a single sound is to fall from those whorish lips of yours—you don’t want it to get worse.” König seethes. He then fully pulls your panties down and discards them somewhere across the floor, his gloved fingers then letting go of your ass and continuing to tease your dripping cunt. You bite your lip and smack your hand over your mouth, letting his large gloved fingers continue its work against your clit. “Unless that’s exactly what you want…” König whispers. You can hear the sickeningly malicious chill in his voice before he speaks again, “Want me to show you just how ruthless and unrelenting I can be? Does that thought excite you?”

You hesitate, unsure if you’ve been given permission to speak, so you nod your head sheepishly. Behind his sniper’s hood, you can just see how excited he is about this. You could see the sadistic smile he always gives whenever you misbehave; it’s a pleasantly frightening sight when you get the chance to see it. You practically drip more at the imagination you have, biting your lip harder as you stare up at him. “You do? Mein Gott, you really are a degenerate…to think I'd never imagine seeing someone as sweet and as caring as you to be into this kind of thing…” König breathes, degrading you. His hand then stops what it’s doing, as he brings his fingers up to inspect them. His eyes seemingly squint even more out of pure delight as his sadistic smile only widens.

“But yet here you are—bent over my knee and getting wet at the thought of me absolutely ravaging you…proving me wrong to think you would never be so depraved…” He chuckles, licking his gloves clean, “Such a naughty, naughty girl…” König then pulls his glove off with his sharp teeth after bringing it under his hood. He then spits it out of his mouth, and puts his hand back in between your legs. Now feeling his warm hand right up against you instead of the gloves, it makes you shiver at the sensation of skin touching skin. You try to moan as his middle finger strokes up and down your even wetter cunt, eyes screwing shut to focus on keeping yourself quiet as his finger drags itself up and down. “So wet…You have no idea just how addictive it is to watch you squirm and try to keep yourself quiet.” König purrs.

His middle finger soon dips inside of you and you can’t help but clench around him. Your eyes open wide at the feeling and it just gets harder for you to keep quiet. Agonizingly slow, König begins to pull his finger out before pushing it back into you with enough force to drive you crazy already. Your bottom lip was bleeding from how hard you were biting it, keeping yourself as quiet for as long as you can. You huffed out a puff of air with every other breath each time he teased you, pushing his fingers in a little faster with little effort before slowing back down. The limit was getting closer and closer every single time but right when you were going to reach it you were forcefully pulled away in an aggressive manner. And not even realizing, you had let out a loud whine from your bitten lips behind your mouth.

König stops his fingers after having just added a second one inside of you. The air becomes so thick it’s hard to breathe; either because of that, or because his other hand was gripped tightly around your throat. “Ich habe dich verdammt noch mal gewarnt – jetzt wirst du unter den Konsequenzen leiden, du dreckiger Degenerierter.” König seethes in a tone you had never heard before. Suddenly, you were lifted up by his right hand’s vice grip around your throat before he lightly let you go once you were safely over the mattress. “You had better appreciate me not downright slamming you onto the bed. That’s going to be the only time I’m nice to you tonight—I’ll fuck you until the only thing that’s on your mind is your broken obedience.” König seethes.

The towering man then climbs over you and rips off your bra before pulling you up by the nape of your neck. “Do you really want this? Once we do this,” his striking blue eyes hold bolts of lightning within them as he stares you in the eyes, “you can’t go back ever again,” König warns you. Though it doesn’t sound like it, he seems to be offering one last chance to save yourself from the wrath that’s coming. More intrigued at just what is in store, you decide to just open up Pandora’s Box. “I do…” you mumble. König then lets go of your neck and pushes you back down on the mattress. Sitting atop your abdomen, he unbuckles his belt and removes it from the loops in one swift motion.

He’s quiet and focused, gripping both your wrists tight before putting them between the bars of the headboard. König then tightly wraps his belt around them, “No escape for you, little rabbit—you’re all helpless and exposed for the big hunter. Aren’t you excited?” he asks. Feeling a sense of genuine fear, you can’t help but whimper softly. “Oh, don’t be so scared all of a sudden,” König chuckles, getting off of you to undo the button to his pants as well as his zipper, “you asked for this.” He then lifts your legs up and closes them, pushing them up to your chest. “As much as I’d love to fuck those cute thighs, I’ll settle for what you’ve got right,” König says as he pushes in already, making you cry out for him, “here.” he growls as he forces himself inside you.

You expected it to hurt because of how big he is except this time around, the pain makes you moan loudly. “A-Ah!~” you cry out. “You filthy degenerate…just listen to how loud you’re moaning for me already. Do it some more—let me hear you scream for me.” König demands. His large hands grip your calf and thigh on each of your legs tightly as he pulls himself out just so he’s barely inside of you. He doesn’t even look at you when you stare at him with wide eyes and shaking your head no; he’s purely driven by the desire to show you just how ruthless he can be with you if you misbehave. König disregards your silent pleads before pushing back in. “Mmpf!~” You moan, biting your bottom lip hard for a moment before opening your mouth again.

Each harsh thrust from him gets you a loud groan and growl, as he feels you convulse and quiver beneath him. Your eyes roll back slightly as the pain now completely subsides as the way he thrusts his massive cock in and out of you over and over again. “Tell me…how does it feel, little rabbit?” König asks. You try to look at him, but once the tip of his cock starts hitting your cervix you can’t even respond. He then strikes your thigh hard, forcing you to pay attention, “I thought I fucking asked you a question. “How does it feel, little rabbit?’” he seethes. You cry out, eyes rolling back down to look at him, “Feels so good!~ God—König!~ I already feel so close..~” you moan loudly. “Oh do you now?” König asks before laughing maniacally. His thrusts are no longer as fast as they were, much slower and more forceful.

He built you up so high and forced you back down, making you whimper and whine. “I’m not done with you quite yet. Hold it the fuck in.” König says. You whimper and whine even more now, and König appears to be getting annoyed by it. He then leans forward and as punishment, decides to only lightly grind himself against you before then wrapping a tight hand around your throat. You strain to breathe now, his crushing grip once directed to your legs has now focused on your throat. “Moan like this—I want to watch you writhe and squirm before you lose consciousness.” König says as he continues to grind into you. Even like this he manages to be forceful, his tip still rubbing right up against your cervix. This alongside the vice grip he had on your throat, it was just driving you further into the stars, moaning louder and louder despite rapidly losing consciousness.

Your eyes start to flutter shut as a dark vignette begins to surround the corners of your vision. Before you could pass out, König’s hand comes up and shakes you to make you come back. “Keep your eyes open. Breathe for now before I crush your trachea again.” he threatens. You nod, regaining your breath as best you could before he started again. “Güt?” He asks, his hand creeping up to grip your throat against. “Y-Yes…” you mumble softly. “Louder.” he says as he slowly begins to apply pressure. “Yes!” you exclaim much louder. “You’re very obedient—maybe I should let you see my face, ja? Or do you prefer the sniper’s hood while I’m deep inside you, pounding away at you like you mean absolutely nothing to me?” König asks as he starts choking you again.

“K-Keep it on…” You strain as his hand crushes your trachea. “Filthy whore…” König growls as he starts thrusting into you harder and faster than he was before. You wail and cry out on pleasure, being able to slightly breathe a little better as you do since he wasn’t choking you too hard. That previous build up to an orgasm was coming dangerously close, as you stared pathetically into König’s sharp blue eyes pierced into your own. Behind the sniper’s hood, his jaw was clenched tight as he growled deep within his chest and throat. His breathing was heavy, focused on just finally pushing you over the edge. “Want to cum, little rabbit?” He asks, unrelenting with his thrusts. It seems König was already at the edge himself, and wanted to finally get over it with you.

“Y-Yes! Please…please let me cum, König! I-I promise I won’t misbehave or be disobedient ever again!” you moan loudly as König’s grip on your throat becomes tight once again. “Then cum…cum for me…” König growls softly. As if right at his command, you scream his name so loud that it manages to catch him by surprise. His hips stutter as you start to cling to him tightly and he spills himself deep inside with a soft moan of your name. The two of you stay like this, catching your breath as your bodies seemingly melt into each other now. “Fuck…are you okay..? Did I hurt you too badly? I’m so sorry if I went overboard today…” König apologizes, breaking the silence. Seeing his demeanor change completely like this, it just filled your heart with a warmth you’d always held for him.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be really sore tomorrow…” you say softly, laughing breathlessly. König’s hands begin to gently caress your legs as he pressed gentle kisses against your calves. He pulls himself out of you slowly, sighing contentedly once he watches a bit of his semen drip out of you. “You did really good today…I’m so proud of you for holding it together…I’m still really sorry if it hurt…do you need water? A massage? I’ll give you anything to make sure the slaps and spanks I gave you earlier…would ice also help?” König suggests, praising you for how well you did. “Maybe a nice shower with my big boyfriend would be much more helpful…I feel so sticky.” you day, laughing softly. “And don’t be worried about hurting me too hard—if it was too much for me, I would’ve used our safe word. You did fine, alright? Don’t feel guilty about it. I love you, and I trust you, König.” You reassure, giving him a pleasant smile.

König nods before then removing his sniper’s hood, tossing it somewhere in your shared room. He puts your legs down to properly kiss you, his hand that once held a crushing grip on your neck now gently and lovingly strokes your cheek. You kiss him back, smiling softly as you bring your own hand up to caress his as he gently holds onto your face. After a bit, he pulls away and peppers your jaw, face, and neck in little kisses. “Ich liebe dich, kleines Kaninchen…” he whispers softly against the crook of your neck. “I love you too…now let’s go take a shower. We can come back and cuddle for as long as we need to,” you say, tilting your head downwards to kiss the top of his head. “O-Okay…I’ll carry you and make sure to hold you up, I don’t want to risk you falling over and getting hurt.” König says, giving you a soft smile.

[rafebarrysmut]

“Did you just bite me?”

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Barry (Outer Banks)

Summary: their first time and it's hate sex (based on the requests I got, thanks lovely anon and @obx-for-life )

This takes place in season 2, post-betrayal, when Rafe has just watched his father's confession video and had that fight with Sarah. The alcohol won’t help and he needs something stronger to numb those emotions and the screaming voices inside his head. So he ends up at Barry's. Naturally.

Warning: minors dni. Rafebarry smut. Explicit language. Top!Barry x Bottom!Rafe, Virgin!Rafe, some canon-typical violence, mentions of Ward's (fake) suicide, biting, crying, lots of whimpering, Rafe tries to be dominant. And gets railed. Barry's pov. This is almost 3.5k words. holy fuck.

Fuck, Rafe Cameron was the last person Barry expected to see showing up on his porch that day.

When he heard the dirt bike approaching, Barry looked up from the worn copy of The Crying of Lot 49 he was reading, frowning as he saw Rafe coming to a halt, getting off his bike, literally throwing his helmet at the trailer. Barry mumbled a curse when the boy came stomping towards him. Of course, Barry had heard the news about Ward Cameron and he'd guessed that they would have to let Rafe go with his father taking the blame for Peterkin's murder. And he had expected the boy to be angry at Barry for ratting him out, but he sure hadn't expected him to come running to him that same day.

Barry closed his book, put it to the side, about to get up and greet Rafe with a casual but tense grin, when Rafe kicked at the coffee table causing it to topple over.

“Hey!” Barry jumped to his feet.

Rafe was quick, both his hands grabbing for the collar of Barry's shirt.

“Easy there, dawg.” Barry was alert, but cautious. He had lifted his hands but didn't touch Rafe, just looked him straight into the eyes. “Sure this is upsetting and all, but you might wanna calm down.” Barry's voice was low, but firm.

Rafe's hands fisted around the fabric, white knuckles showing. His jaws clenched as he glared down at the older male. Every muscle in his body seemed tensed up, Barry could feel it, see it.

“I'm gonna end you,” Rafe muttered between gritted teeth. Barry could smell the stench of liquor in the boy's breath. He could see the tears in his bloodshot eyes.

The boy was fucked up, like really fucked up. And by now Barry knew that Ward Cameron was to blame for the most part of that. Barry didn't feel sorry for Rafe, but he understood what it was like to be fucked up like this by your own parent. And though Ward might have saved Rafe from going to jail by taking his own life, he had literally torn that messed up boy to pieces by doing so. Barry had gotten to know Rafe in all kinds of stages of messed up. This was beyond.

He tried to stay calm, still assessing the situation, and part of him was also curious why Rafe had gotten all the way into the cut to take out his revenge on Barry on this day. But with Rafe, there was no reason – at least not the kind of reason other people understood, that boy acted on impulse only. Or something else. Some completely messed up logic of his fucked up mind.

“This is on you,” Rafe hissed. “If you hadn't turned me in, he wouldn't – this is all your fault.”

Rafe's voice grew louder and he shook Barry.

“This is all your fault,” Rafe was practically fuming now, pushing Barry back, who stood his ground.

Rafe's hand reached for Barry's throat, but Barry was quicker. Grabbing both the boy's wrists, freeing himself from the grip, he pushed Rafe back, his chest colliding with his.

There was a moment of surprise in Rafe's widened eyes, then the anger kicked in. He growled and fought Barry's grip, fought him fiercely and blindly. His body urging against Barry's, shoving him backwards with such force that Barry stumbled and lost his balance when hitting the edge of the couch with the backs of his legs.

“Fuck,” Barry cussed, trying to stop his fall, and in doing so, he let go of one of Rafe's wrists, who used the momentum to land a punch at the other's face, hitting his jaw.

Barry’s back hit the worn-out couch and Rafe was on top of him. But not for long. Barry lost his patience and fought back. They tumbled off the couch, landed on the ground. Barry tried to get a hold of Rafe's hands, tried to pin him down, but the boy was writhing below him now, wriggling out of his grip and attacking Barry. A fist hit Barry's rips. A knee kicked at his stomach, missed, but made Barry lose the upper hand again. Barry had not only lost his patience with this boy, he felt his own rage now driving him on. Punching, hitting, gripping, tugging, they rolled along the floor of Barry's porch, hitting furniture and scattered empty cans. The sounds of furniture being shoved, fists hitting, bodies colliding, mixed with groans and heavy panting as they engaged in this fierce, very physical fight.

“Fuck!” Barry cried out when a sharp pain hit his shoulder.

Rafe was on top of him with one of his arms twisted behind his back, Barry had wrongly believed to have the upper hand in that moment.

“Did you just bite me? You fucking crazy,” Barry couldn't hide the surprise in his voice, when he grabbed Rafe's hair, pulling him up a bit, so he could look into his face – and see the boy look at him, his lips parted, blood dripping from his mouth and Barry was unsure whose it was.

“You crazy bitch…” He gazed up at Rafe, who looked straight into his eyes. Something so fierce and wild in those blue ones. Barry heard his own raspy breathing, felt his chest rise and fall. They'd suddenly stopped their fight but that hot rage was anything but gone.

Barry’s hand grabbed Rafe's jaw, which made the boy gasp, those eyes widened even more, pupils dilating. And then, as if remembering they were in a fight, he pulled at that hand, tried to free his face, and Barry's finger slid between those bloodstained lips. And he felt the soft wetness of his tongue and those lips closing around it, and he pushed the digit deeper and saw Rafe's eyes rolling back in his head, and a surge of something hotter than rage suddenly hit Barry's body. And for just a second it felt like Rafe's mouth was sucking on his finger and Barry's breathing hitched. And the next moment, sharp teeth sank into his finger. Barry growled, quickly pulling his finger out and smacking Rafe across the face, sending his head whipping back.

When Rafe moved his head back to look at him, something had changed in his expression. He looked surprised and tears were pooling in his blue eyes, and Barry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Whereas Rafe had glared at him like a wild beast before, he now looked like a kitten, a sad kitten that seemed to be puzzled about what it had done wrong.

Barry quickly grabbed the back of the boy's neck as he felt him shift on him and pulled him close.

Rafe's hands were pressed to the floor on either side of Barry's head and he was struggling to keep himself up like this with his face only inches away from the other's.

Barry felt the body above him trembling and he knew that it wasn't just from the exhaustion.

He pulled him closer. Rafe still fought his grip, struggling to push himself up. Heated puffs of air hitting his face.

Barry felt the warm breath on his face. Those full lips opened. Those eyes flickered. Barry noticed how they moved to his mouth. He grinned. Those eyes met his again. Rafe's panting grew more rapidly. Those eyelids fluttered shut and Barry lifted his head, just an inch, and his lips met those soft lips of Rafe.

He felt the boy freeze, then struggling to push away, but he wouldn't let him. His other arm wrapped around his body and he pulled him closer, pulled him flush against his body, as his lips moved against those too soft lips, hungrily kissing, tasting blood.

As he felt Rafe opening his mouth, a whimper escaping his lips, Barry pushed his tongue inside his mouth – despite the risk of those sharp teeth biting at it. But Rafe gave up his resistance, finally giving into what Barry had noticed the boy had wanted all along.

It wasn't unusual to get aroused from fighting, with all that heat and bodies so intimately colliding. But the way Rafe now kissed him back, Barry knew that this was something else, this was a hunger much deeper, much darker.

Rafe began shifting his body on Barry's. His hands suddenly eager to grab and tug. One hand gripped Barry's throat and Barry groaned in response, his hips buckling up, meeting Rafe's who was straddling him, making the boy feel how hard he was.

The grip around Barry's throat tightened as the kiss got more heated, with tongues fighting for dominance and teeth not just teasing, but biting hungrily.

Barry's hand grabbed for Rafe's ass, grabbed hard at the firm flesh, and he almost expected the boy to withdraw, but all he did was whimper.

The kiss got sloppy and breathless, both were so riled up that this was by far not enough to satisfy their hunger.

Rafe's hand closed tighter around Barry's throat, by now making it harder and harder to breathe. Barry tensed up and with a sudden motion pushed Rafe off of him. Sitting up, his hand went to his throat where Rafe had surely left marks. He narrowed his eyes, his breathing still strained.

And Rafe, sitting on the ground in front of him, gazed at him with those eyes, and he looked as if he had been slapped again.

“You're crazy, baby boy,” Barry's voice was hoarse, but he chuckled and shook his head in amusement.

Rafe sat there, panting, and slightly trembling. His wet lips parted, they looked swollen from the angry kiss. His blue eyes moved over Barry's body and his expression was this strange mixture of puzzlement, anger, and hurt. And something else.

Barry had his eyes on the boy as he moved cautiously, as if not to scare him. Slowly, he took off his own shirt. Rafe's eyes were immediately drawn to his abs.

Barry waited, but Rafe didn't seem to pick up on the invitation to do the same, but just bit his lips as his eyes wandered over Barry's muscular torso.

Slowly, very slowly Barry pulled down his shorts, just enough to show his cock's pink tip.

Grinning, he noticed how Rafe wetted his lips.

Barry leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, he looked at Rafe, tilting his head.

And there it was again, that strange look in the boy's face. He was nibbling on his finger and his eyes flickered wildly about.

The muscles in Barry's stomach twitched.

“This your first time, hm?” A mocking tone in Barry's voice.

“It's not,” Rafe was quick to respond and shot him an angry glare – and right then Barry knew that Rafe not only never tasted cock before, but that he was in fact still a virgin. – And it was like those months ago, their current interaction mirroring the first time Barry had offered Rafe coke, who took it with that angry tone lying when stating that it wasn't his first time – just like now.

Barry lifted his hips slightly to help Rafe pull down his shorts completely, who did so hastily.

As if trying to prove that he was in fact used to giving blowjobs regularly, Rafe gripped the base of Barry's cock, propped it up to guide it to his opened mouth as he leaned down, kneeling next to Barry. Without hesitation Rafe took the tip between his lips and began sucking, making Barry hiss a curse and clench his fists. But the next second, Rafe pulled back, his face contorted, rubbing his lips that he was licking frantically, obviously appalled by the bitter taste of Barry's precum. But at the same time, he just couldn't take his hands of that thick cock in his hand. His other hand rested on Barry's thigh and his nails dug into its flesh as he tried again. Rafe closed his eyes, the curtains of his hair almost hiding that pretty face and the tears running down his cheeks, as he opened his mouth further to take more of that fat cock in. The warm tongue pressed against the slit and Barry gasped. Spit was running down Rafe's chin and drooling onto Barry. Rafe had given up on the sucking, but began moving his head up and down, his lips tight around the thick cock. His mouth clenching around it. He didn't get much more than an inch in when he was already gagging.

It was messy, it was sloppy, and quite frankly, it was the worst blowjob Barry had ever received. It was perfect.

Barry was breathing hard, his cock throbbing and glistening with Rafe's drool, as Rafe was coughing heavily, his cheeks flushed, tears running down his face, drool covering his chin. While the boy was trying to compose himself, trying to make that coughing stop and probably contemplating about whether it was worth giving it another try, Barry sat up, grabbed that pretty face and kissed those quivering red lips.

Rafe was quick to stop him, push him away, still fighting to regain his breath. And Barry chuckled when blue eyes darted at him, ready to kill.

Barry wanted to wrap his arms around him and pull Rafe close to him and just kiss that frown, but Rafe pushed him back, so hard that Barry landed on his back again, looking up in surprise. But then he saw that Rafe undressed himself. Got rid off that grey shirt, his jeans and boxer briefs.

Fuck.

Barry inhaled and held his breath, because that boy was literally breathtakingly beautiful. His mouth watered as he saw his well-trained body, perfectly toned. And his cock must have been the most beautiful cock ever. Nice and smooth and big. Not as thick as Barry's, but huge as it was pressing against Rafe's flat stomach. Barry would've loved to suck it, but Rafe obviously had something else in mind.

He climbed on top of Barry, straddling him, sitting down on his hip.

Barry was about to grip the boy's hips, when Rafe slapped his hands away, then gripped his wrists to pin them next to Barry's head.

Hovering over him, his face close to Barry's, he spoke in a low voice.

“You don't move when I fuck you.”

Barry flashed a grin and he couldn't deny how hot it was that Rafe wanted to dominate him.

Only problem was that Rafe was obviously completely inexperienced. By now Barry suspected that he had never actually been intimate with anyone, neither girl nor guy, and only got his knowledge from watching porn clips probably.

Rafe let go off Barry's wrists when the latter stopped moving as demanded.

He sat up and reached behind himself to grab Barry's cock. Barry felt it throbbing as those eager hands tried to position it.

Rafe bit his lips, concentrating as he lifted his hips a bit.

The wet tip poked against his firm cheek, brushed along the crack, then touched that sensitive muscle and Rafe winced.

He let out a long breath, his brows furrowing, his mouth opening wider and wider as the tip pushed against his tight entrance. Barry felt it flinching and he growled as he almost lost it.

Rafe’s body was tensing up and Barry could see his erection faltering as he desperately tried what seemed impossible. And Barry saw that Rafe was about to lose it.

In one swift motion, Barry sat up, wrapped his arms around Rafe and shut up his angry protests with a passionate kiss. Feeling skin on skin, the heat between their bodies grew into something fervent. Both being naked, their hunger for each other was no longer that desperate, but still as fierce.

Rafe's hands gripped and scratched whatever they could reach. And Barry just needed to hold and never let go.

Rafe moaned into Barry's mouth as he rocked his hips hard and needy against Barry's.

His fingers digging into Rafe's hair, Barry guided the younger's lips to his throat, flinching and groaning as those teeth scratched along the sensitive skin, already bruised by Rafe’s hands.

Barry tried hard to not just give in to his own needs – and Rafe's urging. His breathing got more strained as he felt Rafe's hard length between their bodies.

He spit on his own fingers and rubbed them between Rafe's ass cheeks. His fingertip was greeted with a whimper – and teeth digging into his shoulder as he slowly pushed inside, carefully trying to stretch the tight ring. More spit and he pushed deeper. Rafe's legs wrapped around him and his fingernails dug into his back. The boy whined as Barry curled his finger inside him.

Barry gasped as he felt his own cock aching with jealousy.

Rafe felt so incredibly soft inside, smooth like silk. And was so tight that it was hard to push his finger deeper. But the sounds Rafe made were everything. Barry felt that whimpering tighten his own balls.

He exhaled, held Rafe closer to his body, feeling his rapid heartbeat, hearing his whining words that made no sense at all.

Originally, Barry just meant to prepare him, so he could fuck Rafe thoroughly, but the boy's reactions to being fucked by just one finger drove him outright crazy.

There he was, Rafe Cameron, sitting on his lap, arms and legs wrapped around him, shaking, whining, whimpering and trembling as he got fucked by a finger. The angry crazy boy who tried to kill him moments ago, always so commanding and trying to dominate, became a whimpering mess as the tip of Barry's finger again and again hit that one sweet spot inside him, making his body convulse, making him moan and roll his eyes back as he let his head drop back and come completely undone, spilling ropes of hot cum on his own and Barry's stomach.

All tension gone, Rafe had gone limp in Barry's arms. His cheek pressed against the other's shoulder, he breathed in and out through his mouth.

Barry caressed his head, then stopped himself when he realized what he was doing.

And it seemed it was the same moment that Rafe came down from his high and was forced back into the harsh reality.

“Fuck you! This wasn't what I wanted!” Some of his anger seemed to have returned already when he was still shaking. He shoved at Barry's chest and climbed off him.

His legs trembling when he kneeled and collected his clothes, apparently wanting to leave.

Barry growled. Sometimes he wondered why he even put up with this crazy son of a bitch.

Rafe had turned his back towards Barry, kneeling as he put on his shirt, his back covered in a film of sweat. His perky ass right in front of Barry. He could clearly see that glowing redness between those perfect white cheeks.

“Don't think we're done yet,” Barry growled into Rafe's ear, his arms wrapped around the boy, pressing his body flush against the boy's back, making him feel his neglected rock-hard cock urging against his ass.

Rafe didn't even manage to utter his angry protest as he was pushed forward on his fours. His breathing quickened and when Barry grabbed Rafe's cock, he felt it grow hard almost in an instant.

“So needy,” Barry chuckled.

He pushed Rafe's legs further apart as he positioned himself behind him. He saw the boy tremble with excitement as he ran his cock teasingly over his ass. He used some more spit and a lot of force, but he managed to push his thick cock into Rafe's tight ass, making the boy scream and then eliciting all those sweet sounds, those whimpers and whines and moans that drove him crazy.

At some point Rafe tried to move and meet Barry's thrusts, but he gave up soon, needing all his strength not to collapse as Barry fucked him, fucked him hard and ruthlessly, grabbed his hair and made his back arch, rearranged his guts and filled him so completely. Rafe clenched too hard, came too quickly, was too tight. And he was just perfect.

And Barry knew this was what Rafe really wanted. Being fucked into oblivion, being fucked so good that he even forgot his own name.

[novembermorgon]

hihi not sure how fond myrielle and aerion are of each other (would love to know more about their dynamic if you are willing to share <3) but they remind me of the “who tf is burning down my kitchen” “making breakfast for my beautiful wife” twitter meme

anon ... i giggled .

as for marriage dynamics well .. i feel like by default any relationship with a guy everyone hates for good reason is going to be a bit strained . but somehow they're both kind of deranged enough to make it work (er.. well... somewhat...).

ive talked very briefly about it in my little myrielle post already but it kind of had to grow into anything beyond hating each other . right when myrielle gets to court she holds a lot of resentment toward him, mainly because he's the second son of a fourth son - not really heir to anything, and even when she's young she wants to aim higher than that with her betrothal. she spends a lot of time pining after the concept of another man that she deems 'better' (valarr, matarys, even daeron etc - the actual people matter less than the fact that they're further up in the succession than aerion) just because she's decided to herself that she deserves more. a little girl playing into the idea of being a wife and centering her whole worldview about that ala really twisted westerosi expectations and societal structures

it's kind of what you'd expect from two very willful very spoiled preteens; a lot of petty squabbles and little disagreements that have them bickering and squabbling and it's a bit of a mess . in time though it breezes over kind of because they both grow up and 'mature' in the sense that they aren't calling each other stupid and pushing each other over in the yard anymore LOL

by the time they're married ... well . it's .... . myrielle is fond of him and finds him handsome and dashing while they're in public and in private he at least treats her well a couple days a week which is enough . i think it's very shallow in the sense that ... i'm not sure if they ever truly know each other fully . myrielle projects her ambitions onto him and steadily heads down her path to making sure he becomes king (after the tourney at ashford meadow and the great spring sickness when things get a little crazy in how many targs are dying off) and aerion projects some idea of the wife he'd imagined himself to want onto her . in my mind he's kind of giving targ man too caught up in the idea of his ancestry and his family traditions given his whole deal with the dragon delusions etc so its lots of hey what if you pretend like you're (targ woman of his choosing) and ill be (her evil husband) and then we'll be a Proper Couple instead of a Fake Arrangement between me (perfect prince) and a lesser non-targ woman . you can see that there might be some issues here .

definitely not good . they hold resentment for each other mutually for a variety of reasons but theres also some deep seated dedication there especially from myrielle . she gets so deep into the thought of the both of them rising further than they're expected to that she in turn essentially drops everything for him and makes a lot of questionable choices and does a lot of questionable things to keep him happy and to assist him in whatever way she thinks he needs . i feel like she gets very caught up in the idea of really feeding into the idea aerion has of their marriage . tries to play into the thought of being more of a targaryen and tries to shift and change herself which never really works because she does treasure her own family and her identity but also because things just don't go the way she wants .

errr. ride or die i guess but it's weirrddddddd . which is funny to say because in practice they both cheat on each other and lie to each other and fight and bicker but they keep going back for more . why...? well.. maybe duty maybe genuine care maybe a third more evil option. me when i go out and cheat on my wife but its okay because i come back and bring her nice gifts and we do our historical targ roleplay which isn't weird at all guys i promise please guys listen its not weird its not w

rubs my chin. a lot of thoughts but i'm bad at putting them into words. i hope this is anything . probably not. one day you'll get something better from me .... .... <3

[cuddlyscribe]

Hello! I hope you don't mind but may I request fem or gn dating headcanons (sfw & nsfw) of Hwoarang, Steve Fox, and Forest Law from Tekken please? - 🌱

🌱 anon??? you are speaking my language!! some of my fave tekken characters here and so underrated! hope you enjoy! ❤️

[TEKKEN MASTERLIST]

sfw

Dating Steve Fox is very similar to what it would be like to date a celebrity. He's been in more than his fair share of Iron Fist tournaments, and was well known for being a boxing prodigy well before that.

You get to enjoy all the trappings of dating a famous athlete, all of which is enhanced by the fact that Steve just naturally wants to spoil you rotten.

And if you knew Steve before he became a boxing champion, you know that that's always how he's been; doesn't matter if he had two million dollars or two dollars, he is treating you like a queen.

Plus he's just such a gentleman. You will have people turning heads with the way he treats you.

Steve will literally carry you over a puddle because he doesn't want you to worry about messing up your shoes, or encourage you to talk about things you're passionate about in public so he can show off to other people how amazing you are.

If you want a man that's gonna be obsessed with you and everything you do, Steve is the one you want.

nsfw

Despite how intimidating he might look on the outside to everyone else, Steve is such the ultimate softie. Like the kind to pour his soul out to you while he's hitting it from the back.

It might be an unpopular opinion, but I think Steve is a bit of a sub. And if not a full-blown one, then at the very least he's got to be a switch.

Steve has been on his own for most of his life and hasn't ever gotten the chance to fully relinquish himself to anyone, to let himself release his control and his fear.

Being submissive with you means not being afraid anymore, and he trusts you so much to show such a side of himself.

He also is a NOISY guy... Like all my people that love a man that moans in their ear? Steve does that and then some.

Steve is also the master of begging; good luck holding out for even a fraction of a second against this hunk of a man on his hands and knees, desperate to taste you at any cost.

sfw

Arrogant, snarky Hwoarang. The bastard is irresistible, really, once you really get to know him. Chances are you'll hate each other before that happens, though.

He loves to annoy you with his constant flirting, always standing just close enough to watch you squirm and blush. And being as tall and broad-shouldered as he is, he figures it's easy to get you flustered.

For my friends that are masters of banter, you're in luck. Hwoarang can take as much as he gives, so go all out. He loves seeing you get fired up, especially if it's directed at him.

When you're dating, Hwoarang just soaks up your attention. When you're talking to him, spending time with him, he simply cannot get enough of it. It's like an addiction.

Expect him to get a bit pouty if he's not the center of your attention for a bit. He won't be toxic about it, of course, but he will give you puppy dog eyes for as long as you can stand it, which he bets will not be long at all.

nsfw

Hwoarang being cocky translates perfectly to the bedroom. The man is a dom through and through and he loves it. But particularly being the caring, loving dom that emphasizes aftercare.

He will fuck you for hours and hours, until you feel like your legs are jelly and your thighs burn, and Hwoarang will have energy to spare. What with his kind of stamina and enthusiasm, he knows you're sure to be tuckered out.

Let this man pull your hair because you will love what he does. It's a gentle but firm tug, one that burns ever so slightly but adds an extra layer of feeling. It will have your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He also loves giving you the illusion of control. You can ride him and let him eat you out, boss him around even, but Hwoarang knows that he can instantly be the one in charge because he knows your weaknesses so well.

But cleanup, getting water, all the kisses and cuddles, Hwoarang has got it covered. He knows he can be rough, and the least he can do is take care of you with all his heart afterwards.

sfw

The polar opposite of the initial Hwoarang Experience��️, getting to know Forest Law is literally the most pleasant experience ever.

He is very energetic and friendly, and when he sees you for the first time (and falls head over heels) he doesn't hesitate to come up to you and introduce himself. Please prepare for his attempts at impressing you.

And dating him is just as exciting and wholesome. Like you can imagine the kinds of crazy adventures you two get up to; it's never a dull moment in the Law house.

It's also a must that you know his dad. Forest and Marshall are super close and train together a lot, so chances are you will see his father a ton. But don't worry, as long as you treat his son right then he will be a big fan of you.

Forest is not very rich and thus doesn't have the means to take you on fancy dates. But that doesn't matter much; it's the thought that counts!

His favorite places to take you are on long walks in the city at night to admire the lights and people watch. Then afterwards you can watch him beat up street criminals and get ice cream after.

nsfw

Forest is extremely gentle, perhaps to an extreme. Because he's so ripped and possesses the ability to break nearly any solid object in half, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

Now he won't treat you like a glass figurine or anything, but he naturally just wants to not be aggressive or rough. It's kind of just how he is.

This man will fuck you slow and with so much feeling behind every little movement. And being as enormous as he is, he will make sure you can take every inch of his cock comfortably before he starts to move.

Will shower you with pet names and chant your name over and over because you make him feeling incredible. Like this man adores you so much and you are his world! He can't fathom how he got so lucky.

Forest also just loves when you tell him how good he's making you feel. That way he can just make you cum over and over again, which is quite possibly what heaven would look like for him.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I feel there has been a shift and that either Harry or his team are gunning for Washington DC hosting Invictus 2027 rather than Birmingham.

First Johnny Mercer lost his seat following the elections. He attended IG Dusseldorf but also exchanged informations with H about one of his case (his security case I think?). So the Sussex have lost a big supporter there. Now the Pat Tillman award. Not only is he getting an award named after an american veteran, but ESPN is not backing down. He's clearly trying to appeal to an american audience and he's receiving some help for this.

And last, I feel the britsh public has only apathy left for him, which is probably the worst response for him. The brits dont care anymore he's a prince. They already have William and Kate, who do royaling much better than him. Americans might not agree with the way he's acted, but the BRF still has a lot of appeal worldwide, no matter what SM say, so getting close to a real prince is still attractive. So I think Harry might really pivot and try to earn americans affection through the veterans and IG.

Could be. Harry can want Washington for 2027 Invictus Games all he wants, but Washington doesn’t want him. I live in the region and work downtown, and there’s been no stories or PR or any kind of information about the Invictus Games bids. That tells me there’s not a whole lot of establishment interest here and that Harry doesn’t have a Washington insider to help grease the wheels (he had the Obamas’ support in 2016).

And since the DOD has their own games, the Warrior Games, Washington doesn’t really need Invictus. When they want a feel-good story of their own, they turn in-house to the Warrior Games and our military hospitals. Which is precisely why Harry is cozying up to Warrior Games and the DOD; he wants to fold Invictus and Warrior Games together into a powerhouse to give him the legitimacy here in the US that he desperately craves and is constantly blocked from.

But that’s not likely to happen - Harry’s rent-a-royal status complicates things politically with US/UK relations and he’s deeply unpopular with the American public. (And yes, DOD brass is 100% paying attention to the backlash on the Tillman Award.) not to mention that pesky little lawsuit over his immigration and visa status that the establishment (yes, both parties) wants squashed.

Right now, Harry’s only partner is ESPN and ABC (which is confirmed by some of the tea that’s spilled recently). That’s not enough to get Washington onboard to host. He needs an insider that’s VERY high up the food chain, like White House high or Pentagon high, and neither option seems to be happening.

Washington, by the way, is much more focused on getting the 2027 NFL Draft. They’ve only been talking about it for 3 years.Washington isn’t going to pitch the NFL Draft and Invictus Games in the same year. The city government and the local officials want the NFL Draft. Invictus Games can’t bring in a quarter of the revenue, advertising, and profit of the NFL Draft and DC government isn’t going to risk losing the potential for a NFL Draft for something less assured.

Don’t forget, the Washington bid for Invictus Games only became known when Harry announced the shortlist last month. That doesn’t bode well, and neither does not having made the selection yet. My guess is they’re waiting to see what happens with the US election because if Trump gets in, Harry’s screwed; Trump hates the Sussexes and his loyalty to the BRF has been made very clear. That’s not the welcoming committee Harry and Meghan want.

But we’ll see. Time will tell eventually.

Edit: An anon shared Invictus's announcement about when they'll announce the host for 2027 Invictus Games and that included a link to a press release about the bids. As it turns out, the Washington Invictus Games bid wasn't even made by the city. It was made by the organization that owns and operates many of the entertainment venues within DC in cooperation with the city. That the city isn't leading the bid is also very telling.

AND the local papers - including the Washington Post - didn't pick up the announcement that DC was shortlisted for the 2027 event. If there was really an investment in choosing DC, the Post and the local press would've picked it up to start promoting it to help bolster the bid.

[kairiscorner]

Hii! No need to rush but could you do a fic where the reader is also a spider-person and gets sucked into Miles’ dimension just like in itsv and noir and them get a long really well and end up being shipped by the rest? I think it’d be quite cute :D also sorry if this isn’t that elaborate ToT

hiya anon !! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯ dw about it !! i just hope you like this <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

well, this was certainly a conundrum. the flashing lights of brooklyn practically blinded you, coupled with the sudden sounds and buzzing from the people, establishments, and cars passing by. you were disoriented, your spider sense was out of whack for the time being, and you could only wonder, 'this isn't my city... where am i?'

you aimlessly wandered around the city, accidentally bumping into people here and there, almost getting run over when you missed the green pedestrian light, and bumping into a few too many streetlamps. you hated how familiar yet foreign this city felt to you; one minute, you minding your own business while swinging around your city, doing your rounds and all. but as you were swinging... you felt yourself gravitate to something. everything else around you--leaves, newspapers, plastic bags, even you yourself were getting drawn to this force.

it turned out to be a portal that opened up from somewhere else into your world; and try as you might to resist it and its pull, you were eventually sucked in and thrown into this city. "what i would give to... find someone who had the slightest clue about what the hell is--oomph!" you exclaimed as you felt a slight tingle crawl up through your shoulders, raise the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck, but the sudden collision between you and what felt like a tall man had interrupted that sense of yours from telling you what, or who, exactly was in front of you.

"oh, good heavens, you okay there?" asked a gentlemanly, kind of dapper-sounding voice. the man you bumped into held you up, with you eventually clinging on to him as you nearly fell over due to how disoriented you were from this new city's endlessly bright lights and loud noises. "i'm fine... sorry." you murmured as the man held you up and dusted you off a little. you got a better look of the guy and he tipped his fedora a little, and you noticed when you glanced at his attire from head to toe, you felt the tingle again through your bones this time--and you could tell he did, too.

"you're like me." you both announced in unison. you sighed in relief and felt yourself smile from underneath your mask. "yeah! yeah, i am, and you are! ok, um... do you have any clue where we are?" you asked him, hoping the monochrome man in the trench coat and fedora had any idea where you two were, but it seemed he was just as lost as you were. "i'm afraid i'm in the dark about this whole place too. i was kind of hoping someone would come along and show me around, but i guess the universe is too much of a joker to take peter parker seriously." he said with a slight chuckle as you sighed in disappointment, now.

"well... guess we're both lost, parker, was it?" you asked him with a raised eyebrow as he tipped his fedora again and nodded. "peter benjamin parker, please to meet ya." he said as he extended his gloved hand. you introduced yourself, and you noticed peter looking over your spider suit in awe. "you have such... a wonderful taste in fashion." he said with a smile underneath his mask. you smiled back, without even seeing his smile. "thanks, i've been told it's a little too colorful, though. i was considering toning it down, but i'm glad you like it." you replied. "ah, i've got the same problem, too. a lot of people have told me my getup is more like a mortician than it is a private investigator, let alone as a 'superhero'." he rambled a little as you listened to him.

"i guess we both have our problems with how people see us, then. but it's better than facing those problems alone, no?" you asked as you looked up at him. "certainly is." he responded. you two had agreed to swing over to the nearest rooftop and find answers from there, and all the while, you two talked on and on about each other's home universes and the lives you two lived there. "sounds cool, your universe, i mean. what if i brought you like, maybe, a glow in the dark ceiling decor?" you offered, to which peter almost lost his grip from his webbing. "you decorate ceilings? with... things that 'glow in the dark'? fascinating..." he said as he held on to his webbing tighter and his hat as the wind threatened to blow it away. "i'd love to have you over, though! maybe after this whole debacle, i can show you all the finest spots my home has to offer!" he said as you two swung around, and you found yourself agreeing to it already before even knowing him for an hour.

after the whole collider fight, you rushed up to peter and embraced him tightly. "i knew you could make it out, with a champ like you, of course you would!" he exclaimed happily as he held you tightly. "and so did you, big man." you said as you chuckled in excitement and happiness at your group's victory. you could feel everyone else's eyes on you two, and the best part was... they were waiting for this moment to happen ever since you two joined their ensemble.

"i told you they had something going on together." peni said with a smile as ham held her hand, blowing a comically loud and exaggerated sniffle into a cloth he summoned from his hammerspace. "they were always destined to be in love!" he exclaimed as he cried into the cloth. you looked up to see them all looking at you and peter, and you immediately took your hands off him, a little hastily and still smiling widely like a dork. "we're just really happy we won!" you tried clearing it up, but peter wouldn't let go of you and still hugged you tightly. "yeah, we won, now lemme hug 'em, yeah?" peter said as the others chuckled, with some crying out of happiness for you two.

you looked at peter, with peter looking back at you. you placed both of your hands on his cheeks and smiled. "can i... visit your world for a little bit, when we find a way to do that safely?" you asked him as he leaned a little closer toward you. "oh, darling... i'd let you be with me every time. i do wanna see your world, too--maybe the universe will finally come along for peter benjamin parker now and let us be happy at each other's sides--" "oooookay, that's enough people, move along, chop chop, let's go home." said peter b as he cut off your peter at the sight of how loving he was being to you. "quick word of advice, if you two get married, never invest in a spider-themed restaurant, they will hate you forever." he whispered to your peter, who took mental note of that.

"guess this is... goodbye." you told him as you held his hand, not wanting to let go. "no, doll... it's a see you soon, i promise." he said as he swiftly planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he let go of your hand and lifted his mask up to show you his face--his charming, sweet smile that promised to meet you again very soon.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @connors-cumslurper

[messrmoonyy]

You are nearly single handedly carrying the Tess x reader portion of this website and I thank you so dearly for that and I love all of your stuff

Listen I know it’s the apocalypse and all that they are dealing with, but would you be comfortable doing a Tess fic where she has a strap? Tess and Joel are smugglers so it’s POSSIBLE she could get one…. Right? Right. I’m just going to live in my bubble where it’s possible….

The calm within the storm

Tess Servopoulos x fem!reader

A/n- oh my dear sweet anon. Firstly, thank you for reading and requesting! Secondly. Lord. Have a been waiting for someone to fucking request this I have been waITING. I didn’t intend to post this today but. I just- no words. Feral. I was fucking feral writing this. I need this woman. Rn. Immediately. I was going to post at the end of the week and it wasn’t gonna be this but I just have to get this out there so. Here it is. Also. I think this could technically be a slightly younger Tess cause I kinda made her a lil bit soft

Warnings- 18+ || Tess. It’s basically just pure filth tbfh. Plot? What’s a plot. Smut: use of toys, fake p in v ( reader receiving ) , fingering ( reader receiving), tess being the god of praise as she always is, use of the term ‘ good girl ‘, light Dom/sub roles, Tess refers to the toy as hers if you get my drift 👀💀, reader low-key in a subspace, crying, overstimulation if you squint,

Word count- 5.2k of filth

Masterlist - Tess requests open

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated

Rain was hammering against the window panes, so hard you almost worried that the glass might break. The entire QZ was practically on lockdown, a severe storm warning meaning that everyone was being told to stay indoors. The only people really out on the streets below were FEDRA officers, if you focused hard enough you could occasionally see a black speck moving on the street below through the blur of the rain.

You and Tess had debated attempting to head out anyway, but with no one around to blend in with it made things harder. And the officers were clearly pissed about standing out in a storm all day, they’d be far too trigger happy.

So you were stuck inside. Which wasn’t particularly a bad thing, you loved being alone with Tess. But sitting with so much stuff in your stash and unable to go and sell it was enough to put you both a little on edge.

Joel didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact he’d told you both to leave him alone and you knew he’d just be spending the entire time blackout drunk. Or so off his head on pills that he probably didn’t even know what day it was. Which was starting to look like a decent idea for yourself too.

But Tess seemingly had other ideas.

“ I’m so fucking bored “ you sighed, following a drop of rain as it ran down the glass. Tess appeared behind you, arms looping around your waist and chin propped on your shoulder. You leant back into her embrace with another sigh “ I might go piss off Joel just for something to do “ Tess scoffed and pressed her face against your neck, nuzzling her nose at the underside of your jaw.

“ I have a better idea to keep you entertained “ she whispered, pressing a soft trail of kisses across your neck.

“ you’ve got a one track mind “ you felt her smile against your skin and tighten her grip around you, tilting your head a little so she had more access to your neck.

“ you say it like it’s a bad thing “

“ Hm never said that “ her hand slipped under your shirt making you shiver as her cold fingers trailed their way upwards “ cold hands “ she smiled again and stopped her assault on your neck for a moment.

“ I have a surprise for you “ you turned in her embrace, folding your arms across your chest.

“ I hate surprises “ you stated. Because you did. And she knew you did.

“ you’ll like this one. Go sit down. On the bed “ your brow furrowed in mild annoyance but then you sighed, deciding to indulge her. Last time she’d told you she had a surprise for you it had been a crappy T-shirt, one of the cheesy joke kind. A frog printed on the front with the words ‘ okey- Croakey! ‘ above its head. You’d lost against her in a game of cards and she’d forced you to wear it for the whole day.

She’d found the entire thing hilarious. As did Joel. You? Not so much.

You sat down and watched as she rummaged around in her backpack by the door.

“ what are you doing? This better not be another fuckin frog shirt “ she pulled something in a little black bag from her backpack with a proud look on her face, turning to you with a slightly mischievous look in her eye “ what? “

“ unfortunately it’s not a frog shirt- which I have noticed has mysteriously vanished by the way “ your brow furrowed again, confusion painting across your features as she rose to her feet and made her way over to you. She sat down next to you and you waited with a raised brow as she pulled at the drawstring “ now don’t freak out. I know what you’re like “

You thought of a few variations of what could possibly be in the bag. But the actual answer wasn’t even close. Not even remotely.

You couldn’t help the laugh that left you. Some mixture of shock, confusion and intrigue mingling into a slightly manic sound.

Only Tess would smuggle a fucking strap on back into the QZ.

“ what the fuck Tess “ she was smiling like the cat that got the cream. Thoroughly proud of herself for finding it and managing to get it back home without you finding it.

“ I want to fuck you with it “ there she was, always one for being direct.

“ where did you even fuckin find this?“

“ last time we were in Lincoln. Turns out that house we stay in? Two Women owned it. Must be something in the fucking water in that town “ you laughed again at that, still completely baffled by the entire situation “ whole drawer full of shit. This looked the most interesting though, you ever use one?”

“ I’m gonna let you answer that for yourself “ your eyes glanced up at her face for a moment “ have you? “

“ once or twice “ you looked at the mildly offensive looking thing in her hands, curiously eyeing the size of it and mentally trying to guess if it would hurt. The most you’d ever taken was Tess’ fingers and two of them was usually a sufficient amount, 3 if she was feeling particularly cruel. It was a pastel purple which was quite the relief really. It didn’t look real. Less scary than it probably was.

“ Tess I don’t know if I can fit- Jesus Christ “

“ I’ll get you ready… if you don’t want to we don’t have to. It was just an idea “ you didn’t want to disappoint her and you knew she’d never even dare to pressure you into something. You tried to think about it, knowing she wouldn’t let it hurt you. She’d never hurt you. And if you thought about it, this was truly as close as you could ever possibly get to her, your bodies completely connected.

It made your cheeks burn again.

“ it won’t hurt? “ she shook her head, scooching a little closer to you and tucking her fingers under your chin, turning you to look at her.

“ okay well. Maybe a tiny bit just at first. But then it’ll be good. I’ll get you ready. I promise. You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you? “

“ no “ you said immediately, there was nothing in this world you were more certain of. She’d never hurt you.

“ then… what do you say? Wanna try? “ the idea was growing on you you couldn’t lie. You weren’t exactly a stranger to letting Tess have complete and utter control of you, and this seemed like the ultimate surrender to her power. To have her in you. Filling you. Reaching parts of you she’d never been able to before.

You shuffled slightly trying to ignore the uncomfortable damp feeling between your legs.

“ so you’re gonna- you wear it? “

“ mhm “

“ will you feel good too? “ you know she wasn’t really one for being touched. Always the one doing the touching rather than letting you touch her. She’d always been the same. But you were curious.

“ you know I get off on making you feel good “ her voice had taken on that low and sultry tone that went straight to your core and you let out a shaky breath “ but I’ll feel a little something. Some friction you know? But don’t worry about me. This is for you “ she brushed your hair away from your shoulder, her lips returning to their earlier assault.

Your clit felt like it had its own fucking heartbeat, throbbing at the thought of your girlfriend nailing you into the mattress like that.

“ fuck okay “ it came out a little more breathy than you had intended, and she seemed throughly pleased with herself. She smiled again, teeth nipping lightly at your skin in a way that made your breath quicken.

“ just think how fuckin pretty you’re gonna look “ she whispered in your ear, one hand sliding over your thigh and squeezing softly “ gonna look so good taking my cock aren’t you baby? “ her hand slipped past the waistband of your leggings, smirking when she pressed against the soaked patch of your underwear.

“ Jesus Christ Tess “

“ I’ve barely even touched you and look at you “ your hand flew to grab at her wrist as she pushed a finger between your drenched folds, already wound ridiculously tight. Already sensitive. And it was almost embarrassing. Because she had barely touched you, and there you were soaking through your panties.

She used her spare hand to cup your face, bringing you in to kiss her in a way that seemed far too tender for her. That felt too innocent compared to the way her finger was slowly circling your clit.

She pushed lightly at your shoulder and you took the hint, shuffling up the bed and letting her lay you back. Her lips didn’t leave yours once, quite the opposite. They became a little more forceful, hungry. Your entire body felt like it was burning up, nervous energy buzzing through every single nerve ending. Every single place that her body was touching yours was ablaze, electric. Alive.

She pulled herself away and smiled as you tried to chase after her lips, drunk on the taste of her. Your hand reaching out for her neck, attempting to pull her back down but she simply took your hand in hers. She pressed a kiss to your knuckles and then placed it back down.

“ patience baby. I need to get you ready okay?” You nodded, ready to do whatever she asked of you with a split second of notice. She sat back and made quick work of ridding you of your leggings and underwear, then your shirt, leaving you completely exposed under her gaze.

In the past you had felt almost scrutinised under your lovers gaze. But never with Tess. It was impossible to feel even remotely self conscious when she was looking at you like that. Like she was going to absolutely devour you any second. Like no other woman existed on the face of the earth.

She seemed almost desperate to touch you as her head found itself between the valley of your breasts, kissing at every inch of skin she could see.

She was working you up, getting you as relaxed as she possibly could. And you were more than willing to let her, sighing in bliss as her hands and lips wandered. You felt like putty in her hands, soft and malleable to whatever she wanted to do you. Sucking and licking, teeth grazing and nipping as her hand continued it’s way downwards.

You couldn’t help squirming around under her touch and she held a hand to your hip in some attempt to keep you in place, pushing you back down as you pushed your hips up against her thigh in some attempt to get a little friction.

“ Tess- “

“ patience “ she said again with a kiss to your cheek, you huffed in annoyance and she tutted and shook her head “ so fuckin impatient today “ but she clearly wasn’t in much of a mood to keep you waiting really.

She slipped two fingers into you embarrassingly easy, in no mood to take it slow with you. Desperate to have you ready for the toy sitting at the foot of the bed still. She set a steady pace, the sopping sound making your cheeks flush bright red. It was embarrassing how wet you got for her, and how fast.

“ that’s it, need you nice and wet for me “ you pushed yourself against the heel of her hand, searching for some pressure on your throbbing clit. And she let you for a few moments, her teeth nipping at the skin of your neck now, leaving a trail of bruises blossoming in her wake.

You attempted to keep your moans to yourself, failing as usual, as she gently began scissoring her fingers inside you. She watched your face intently as she did, checking that everything she was doing was okay. She was always the same. No matter how bossy or controlling she could be in bed, she never actually wanted to do anything you didn’t like. Your pleasure was always the most important thing to her.

“ don’t you dare come “ she said lowly, noticing the way you’d increased the speed you were grinding your hips up into her hand “ don’t you fucking dare “ it was near impossible not to when her hands were working pure magic between your legs. Your chest heaved in heavy breaths in some hope it would stave your orgasm off.

But Tess knew your body too well. Knew what every single reaction and sound meant, probably better than you did yourself if you were honest. So she knew your tricks and she didn’t want you coming yet. So she simply removed her fingers.

You felt too empty as she withdrew her fingers but before you could begin to complain she was coaxing them into your mouth. She watched you in awe as you sucked on her fingers, your mouth flooding with your own taste.

“ that’s it. Good girl “ she swatted at your thigh lightly with her other hand when she spotted you attempting to rub your thighs together for some relief, giving you a look of mock disappointment “ what did I just say? Do as you’re told “ when she deemed her fingers clean enough she got up from the bed, picking up the toy. You felt too embarrassed to watch her, instead focussing on the ceiling and hoping your cheeks weren’t too red.

You mentally tried to prepare for the sight. The feeling. The intrusion. But found that yes, you were a little scared still, but also incredibly excited.

You felt the bed dip as Tess climbed back on the bed, her warm hands gently pushing your legs apart as she sat herself between them. You chanced a look at her, propping yourself up on your elbows.

It looked a little less intimidating on Tess than it did when she’d first showed it to you. It almost made you laugh at how you’d been scared, but now you were unbelievably curious over anything else. And embarrassed. Incredibly fucking embarrassed.

Which was silly. It was Tess. Just Tess.

You dropped back onto the mattress and covered your face with your hands, an embarrassed groan muffled by your palms. Tess chuckled and you felt her lean down over you, pulling one of your hands away gently

“ y/n “ she was smiling at you as she peeled your other hand away “ Embarrassed? “ she said with a slight teasing tone to her words and you turned your head away, attempting to hide your face in the pillow “ hey hey. No. Eyes on me, look at me “

“ it’s embarrassing “ you said with a little laugh and she rolled her eyes, smile tugging at her lips.

“ I’ve fucked you plenty of times before”

“ not like this “ she brushed your hair away from your face and her eyes scanned over your features.

“ we don’t have to do- “

“ no. No I want to. Jesus do I want to “ you said maybe a little too fast, a little too desperate.

“ okay then. You ready baby? “ it was mildly pathetic how scared you actually were all of a sudden. It was Tess. Your Tess. You had nothing to be worried about “ baby? “

“ yeah “ you breathed out “ yeah. Yeah I’m ready “ you watched her as she licked the palm of her hand before she reached down between you, watching her fingers wrap around the toy. Your cheeks were on fire again, it was practically indecent the way your stomach fluttered at the sight. You craned your neck to watch, gasping as you felt the cool silicone brushing between your folds.

“ hey, eyes up here. Look at me “ your eyes snapped up to meet hers, relaxing a little immediately “ that’s it. Keep looking at me okay? “ you gave a small nod, trying to keep your breathing steady. It hitched in your throat as she brushed the toy lightly over your already sensitive clit “ breathe. If you need to stop you tell me okay? “

“ yes “ you whispered, arousal and desire beginning to cloud your thoughts.

She sat back up, pulling you closer by your hips.

“ spread your legs for me, that’s it keep them there “ she soothed her hands over your thighs for a moment, smirking at the sight of the remaining bruises left there from the other day.

She was incredibly possessive. Always had been. She loved nothing more than littering your skin with marks from her teeth or her fingers. You were hers. No one else’s.

You heart was hammering in your chest as she returned to her teasing, dragging the purple silicone up and down your cunt. It sent a shiver down your spine every time she caught your clit and it only made her smirk. You even found yourself bucking your hips up for more after a minute or so, unashamedly desperate for her to just give you something. Anything.

“ where’s this enthusiasm come from?” She teased and you could do nothing but squirm under her gaze, a pathetic whimper of a sound leaving your throat. It just made her smug look grow even more “ do you want it? “

“ yes “ she had this ridiculous skill of getting you wound up like that, to the point where you felt like an animal in heat. Desperate for whatever relief she would honour you with “ please Tess”

When she deemed the tip wet enough she positioned it at your entrance

“ it might hurt a tiny bit. Breathe through it, relax “ you nodded and she kept her eyes right on yours as she gently pushed into you, eyes scanning your own to look for any sign you no longer wanted it. Your own eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of the unfamiliar intrusion “ that’s it. Good girl you got it “ She entered you ridiculously slowly, allowing only the tip to push past the restriction of your entrance.

She took her time. Easing into you inch by inch, one hand on your hip to keep you in place. Her eyes fluttered between your face and your cunt, wanting to make sure you were okay but clearly also mesmerised at the sight of the toy slowing vanishing inside of you.

She held it there for a few moments, waiting for you to give her the go ahead to keep moving and letting you adjust to the unfamiliar girth inside of you.

“ Jesus fucking Christ “ you breathed out, trying to get used to the odd sensation and the slight burn at your entrance as you attempted to stretch to the size.

“ you okay? “ you nodded your head rapidly, eyes still clenched shut. It was almost overwhelming, how unbelievably full you felt. How deep she seemed to be inside you “ do you need me to stop?” Her hand cupped your face gently and she rubbed soft circles into your skin, coaxing you to open your eyes “ baby you need to talk to me “

“ no no it’s just- it’s a lot. Let me just- “ you took another deep breathe, unable to stop your squirming as your walls clamped down around the thickness of the toy “ okay. Okay I’m good “

She pulled almost completely out, pushing back in until the toy filled you completely again. She remained at a slow pace at first, hands holding your hips firmly as your back arched off the mattress.

“ fuck “ she said under her breath, looking down at you like you were the most incredible thing she’d ever laid her eyes on “ you know how pretty you look right now? “ you’d already slipped past the point of forming coherent sentences, your brain filled with nothing but how unbelievably full you felt. How with every thrust she made it seemed to hit a part so deep inside you, that you hadn’t even been entirely aware even existed.

You needed more. So much more.

“ can you- faster. Tess. Please I just- more “ your broken attempt at a sentence seemed to make some sense to her, her hands sliding over your legs again and settling back on your hips.

She picked up the pace, settling herself into a rhythm that had your breasts bouncing, a string of embarrassingly vulgar sounds leaving your throat. The room was filled with the sounds of you. Your moans. The ridiculously wet sound coming from between your legs. And Tess’ own heavy breaths.

It felt filthy. But in the greatest way.

“ look at you “ she she said with more joy on her face than you’d ever seen, smiling down at you as your hands twisted into the bed sheets and you attempted to muffle your moans in your pillow “ look so fucking good taking my cock don’t you? Huh? “

“ Tess “ you whined her name at the poor indecency of her words, ears ringing as you tried to focus on staving off your orgasm as long as possible. But it was near impossible. All you could think about was the bruising sensation of the toy pressing hard against your cervix with every single thrust she offered you.

“ doing so well “ she praised “ taking me so well “ you were chasing your orgasm now, knowing you wouldn’t actually get it until she said you could. But you were going to try either way.

You moved one hand down your body, circling the sensitive nub of your clit in a desperate attempt to get off.

“ I don’t remember saying you could touch yourself “ you held her eye contact in some way of being defiant, rubbing yourself faster even if just to prove a point “ are you that desperate?” She grabbed at your hand and you gasped as she moved back over you, pinning your hands down above your head “ I asked you a question “

“ please Tess “ you whimpered, wishing she could feel the way your cunt fluttered around the toy that was still buried inside you. She shifted her hips to press even further into you in a way that was almost painful, a squeak of a sound escaping you.

“ I thought you were being good “ your hands twisted in her grasp but she had always been stronger than you.

“ i- I am. I just need- please I need- “ Her eyes scanned your face for a few moments before seemingly deciding on something.

“ I got you “ she slipped out of you so suddenly it made you whimper at the loss “ be patient “ she smirked, kissing you in a way that took your breath away again. She pulled away far too quickly, making you chase after her lips again as she moved away. Which only made her laugh. You watched her carefully as she positioned herself sitting back against the headboard, beckoning you towards her with her fingers “ come here “

You didn’t need telling twice.

You were up and straddling her lap in a second, gasping when your sensitive cunt brushed against the now warm length of the toy.

“ you’re gonna be a good girl and ride me “ she instructed. And it was enough for another pathetic whine of a noise to leave your lips “ okay? “ you nodded, already reaching between you and wrapping your fingers around the now sticky silicone “ someone’s eager “ you nodded, brain too foggy to form a coherent thought never mind form a sentence “ Tell me “ she said, hands gripping tightly at your waist to stop you before you could go any further.

It was mean. To make you talk. To make you attempt to speak when your brain was absolutely frazzled, filled with nothing but a desperate aching need to be filled by her again.

“ Tess “ you whimpered in some hope she’d just feel sorry for you and not make you talk. Of course you weren’t going to get off that easy.

“ do as you’re fuckin told “ she nudged her fingers under your chin, an eyebrow raised “ come on. You can do it. Use your words “ she dragged her thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it snap back into place again with a smirk “ tell me how much you want it “

“ so bad “ you whispered, eyes closing and cheeks flushing with heat “ need you so bad Tess “ you didn’t need to look at her to know she had that stupid smug smirk plastered across her face, enjoying it far too much.

“ need what? “

“ fuck Tess “ you dropped your head to her shoulder and tried to clear the embarrassment and fog clouding your thoughts “ I can’t I- “

“ yes you can “ she cooed, a hand brushing over your hair “ one little thing and then you can fuck yourself on my cock again. Isn’t that what you want? “ you nodded weakly “ then be a good girl and tell me what you need “

“ need you to fuck me “ you whimpered into her neck “ please I need it so bad “ usually she’d had made you say it again. Say it louder. Repeat it until you were practically begging for your life for it.

“ good girl that wasn’t so hard was it? “ you took that as your go ahead, lifting yourself before sinking slowly back down with an almost dreamy sigh.

There was less restriction the second time around, the deliciousness of the stretch still there but the uncomfortable burn no longer present. You sank down until she completely filled you again and you were seated flush against her thighs.

The way Tess was watching you was enough to make you come on the spot. No one had ever looked at you like that. Like you were some mythical creature, a goddess walking amongst mortals. It spurred you on to put on a show for her.

“ and don’t you fucking come until I tell you “ she said with a warning squeeze to the flesh of your hips.

You anchored yourself with your hands on her shoulders, rising up again and setting yourself into a steady rhythm. It felt filthy. Entirely too erotic for you to even comprehend, the sweat making your skin slick as your thighs pressed against hers, sounds reminiscent of a fucking pornstar escaping your lips.

Her fingers were pressing harshly into your skin, guiding you up and down on the phallic shape between her legs, you knew you’d bruise tomorrow but you didn’t even care. You wanted her to bruise you. To mark you. You needed a lasting reminder of the moment, needed to be able to glance down at the purples and blues on your skin and feel the ache in your cunt.

You felt primal, completely and utterly consumed by the woman beneath you. the short and quick breaths leaving her everytime you dropped down, the harness clearly brushing wonderfully against her everytime, were like music to your ears.

“ you look so fuckin pretty like this “ she said for what felt like the millionth time, but you’d never get bored of it. She was a little breathless, her eyes not looking away from you for even a second “ you’re so fuckin good for me arent you baby? My good girl huh? “

“ yes “ you whined, rolling your hips in some attempt to rest your legs as your thighs began to burn with the effort. Her hands shifted to grab at the globes of your ass, urging you to slow down a little and go at the pace she wanted.

“ that’s it baby, like that. Just like that “ the all too familiar pressure in your belly was beginning to grow stronger by the second and you knew you didn’t have much left in you. Tess knew you far too well and even though she couldn’t feel the way you were squeezing around the toy, she clearly saw it in your face “ you want to come? “ you nodded your head, head falling back and eyes closing as she kept guiding your hips.

“ yeah. Yeah. I’m almost there but- I don’t think“ she gave a small nod, understanding and shifted herself under you a little so she had some leverage.

“ I got you. Don’t worry “ you gasped, the air leaving your lungs completely as she thrust up into you. The feeling all the more intense than the previous position, hitting a new spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“ fuck Tess “ you whined, eyes squeezing shut and head dropping to her shoulder. Her hand slipped between you, a squeal escaping your throat as she began circling your clit with her fingers.

“ you wanna come for me? Hmm? Gonna come all over my cock, huh? “ you couldn’t form words, desperate pathetic whines the only thing that would pass your lips. Her thrusts were so deep, so hard. It made your vision blur, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes “ look at me. Baby I need you to look at me “ you reluctantly lifted your head, your neck feeling as though it were made of lead. Your forehead pressed against hers and she increased the pace of her fingers against your clit, still slower than you wanted but you weren’t about to complain “ you know what you need to do if you want to come baby. Don’t you? “

You nodded weakly, tears now slipping across your cheeks at the sheer overwhelming feelings she was eliciting in you. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time “ ask me “ she said even though you already knew you had to. It was stupid of you to ever think she’d let you even think about coming without getting her permission first. You just hoped she wasn’t going to make you wait any longer, silently praying that she was in a generous mood.

“ please can I come? “ you sobbed, teetering on the brink and just needing her little push to send you over the edge.

“ go ahead baby. Come for me “ it was instantaneous. The most powerful orgasm of your life knocking the breath from your lungs, nails digging into her shoulders in way you were certain was drawing blood. Tess whispered praise in your ear as your body shook on top of her, moaning so loudly they’d probably hear you on the other side of the zone.

Her words stuttered a little as you came through the latter end of your orgasm and you got the feeling your squirming around had been enough to push Tess over too. She wasn’t even remotely as loud as you. In fact it was a miracle if she ever made any noise at all above stuttered breaths.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, catching your breath and letting the fog clear from your mind. Tess pressed soft kisses to your cheeks, erasing the tears that had fallen from your eyes in the softest way possible. The hand that had been firmly gripping your hip, now trailing softly up and down your spine.

“ you did so good “ she said softly “ knew you would “ you hummed an answer cupping her face in your hands, placing a kiss to her forehead, her nose, her lips “ are you okay? “

“ so fucking okay. Jesus “ she smiled and kissed you again, before gently easing the toy out of you, hushing you gently when you flinched at the feeling.

“ you okay to move? “

“ my legs are fucking dead “ you said with a giggle that made her laugh too, shaking her head slightly. She wrapped her arms around your waist and shifted you to snuggle into her chest

“ that’s okay we can stay here “ one of her hands came up to cradle your head, holding you close to her “ we need to take another trip to Lincoln soon. I wanna see what else is in that fucking drawer “

All you could do was laugh.

[whoreforhorror]

hello! t’was i! the previous anon who requested billy x obsessed reader, back again :))

so if it’s not too much trouble 🤭, billy / stu x fem!reader (or gn) who’s like. super shy? kind of blend’s in with their dark hair and etc so often scared billy and stu when they just find them laying around somewhere, reading or smth ::3

if you can’t do it dw!! if u can, thank you!!!!!!! 🫶

This took so long for me to sit down and write, and I am so so SO sorry for that. I really like this prompt, and thank you for requesting again! I hate to make you late that long and I hope I didn’t make you think I didn’t want to write for you. Also, hope you like it!

Poly! Billy Loomis and Stu Macher with a shy S/O who’s quiet and blends into the environment

Billy and Stu didn’t even know who you were until there was a group project assigned in a class the three of you shared. Groups of three had to make a presentation based on a book, and you were the only person left to pick when the boys needed another group member.

In the back of their minds, they were just a little shocked they hadn’t seen you or heard anything about you until this point. Between the both of them, they figured they’d talked to everyone at least once. You seemed to prove them wrong.

Billy made the executive decision to do a project based on Carrie by Steven King because they’d already seen the movie and how different could it really be? Stu invited you to his place to work on the project with him and Billy, and from that point on they never left you alone.

Stu LOVES pointing you out randomly to bring attention to you, partially because he genuinely thinks you could be friends with a lot of people if you’d let them notice you and also because he likes seeing you get flustered when everyone’s attention is suddenly on you.

Billy won’t admit it but he really likes that you’re quiet because that means he can occupy more of your attention and be closer to you than he might normally be. He also thinks it’s funny to see you get flustered when Stu brings attention to you but will ultimately defend you if he deems that Stu is dragging it out too long.

As you start to hang around the boys more, they start to become aware of how unintentionally silent you can be. You can lay on Stu’s couch, reading while the two are off in another room and you’ll scare the absolute shit out of the two when they come back to the living room and you suddenly chime into the conversation. That, or, one of them will go to the garage to get more beer and you’ll come out to ask them a question, only to startle them and cause them to drop the bottles. They’ve started keeping score of who gets scared by you more often. (It’s Stu, by a lot.)

They’ll both joke about attaching a bell to you to let them know where you are. As your relationship progresses, it starts to become… less of a joke. The boys talk it over and decide to buy you a choker with a little bell on it like a cat’s collar. You best believe they’ll make you wear it every moment the three of you are in private. Wear it in public and the boys will get both very happy that their mild obsession with you seems to be reciprocated and very, VERY teasing. 

Stu and Billy are watching a movie alone one night when Stu turns to Billy and asks “What if they joined us? Like, as Ghostface?”Billy is ready to shoot the idea down but thinks back to every time you’ve been able to get the jump on the two of them. Even as observant as Billy was, he would often forget you were sitting or laying down somewhere. You blended into your surrounding and didn’t draw any attention to yourself. You knew how to be invisible.

They’d think about it for a loooong time. They need to know with 100% certainty that you’ll accept before they even think of proposing the idea to you and revealing their attachment to the Woodsboro murders.

When they do tell you and you do accept, they wonder how they had done it without you before. You were absolutely perfect for stalking their next victim and breaking into their house to let the boys in. They still did most of the real dirty work but would hand a kill to you every now and again to see you in real action.

It also becomes a bit of entertainment for you to see if you can startle them while on the hunt. Is it a bad idea? Maybe. Could you get stabbed because they’re ready to kill and you’re aiming to scare them? Probably. Do you really care? Not at all. The boys hate it every time but still get a laugh out of it, presuming it’s not actually putting them or the kill at risk.

For Billy, your being able to sneak up on him both in and out of Ghostface attire gives him a reason to improve. It gives him something to be better at. He sees it as a weakness that he needs to fix before someone else finds out and takes advantage of it.

For Stu, he sees it as a source of pride more than anything. Look at his partner, able to sneak up on the terrors of Woodsboro without even having to try. His precious darling is so amazing and skilled and awesome!

[yuseirra]

I really love your kamiai comics. The warm stories about their communication and interaction completely make up for my regret of not being able to see how they get along in the original work. btw, your analysis is also very good. I like it very much.Can't wait for your next update!❤��

(A small something before I start typing)

Thank you so, so much dear anon!! This really lifts my spirits up so much, you're very kind to expend your time to send me positivity. I appreciate it because I'm the shy type. I know how hard it can be to muster up the courage to talk to someone sometimes. So when I receive messages like this, I get really happy... it'd be nice if the people who were able to send me some kindness felt it was paid back :) I may not be able to reply fast but I try to get back so please be patient with me 'v')9!

HHngh thanks! I'm rereading your ask every word and savoring it! These two don't get that much screen time but what's been shown is really significant, they did have their moments! I'm so glad you feel the way you do after reading my comics and interpretations of them, that's the best reaction I could ever want from someone!! There are still things that are left ambiguous and are yet to be unfolded(I hope it does get explained more) so I'm worried as I draw them out sometimes... but reading this makes me feel empowered!! I feel like I've been doing pretty well, that's what your comment does for me. I'll do my best to think up something good to share with you, thanks for sharing your feelings with me!

Speaking of which, I have another analysis!! I'd like to share it with you here, I'd been writing it up earlier and it's not entirely unrelated to the hikaai situation:

I think it might have been Nino who's sent Ryosuke to Ai. Based on the behavioral patterns, Nino is the type who'd impulsively do something extreme in a fit of anger and later regret it. Even Nino might not have anticipated things would unfold this way, however. The phrase, "I only meant to scare them, I never thought they'd actually die," seems more like how Nino would feel about the situation, rather than Kamiki to be honest? That's a very absurd thing to say, but considering Nino's relationship with Ai, Nino might have been in a blinded, irrational state because she almost worships Ai. So, it's possible that she genuinely didn't think it would turn out this way somehow... she's a teenage girl with a lot of mood swings.

There’s a common scenario in horror movies where a second-place person, driven by jealousy, does something reckless, thinking, "If only the top person were gone, I could..." but not truly realizing the consequences. (It happens a lot as an east-asian trope) Jealousy has the power to paralyze rational thinking. Nino not only hated Ai, but she likely had a twisted affection for her as well. When Ai disappeared, she probably fell apart.

It's hard to imagine Kamiki acting this way, right? He wouldn’t have been unaware of the danger of sending someone like Ryosuke to his girlfriend. If this character did something like that, it would have to be out of serious malice or murderous intent, but Kamiki doesn't seem like the type to harbor such cruel emotions toward Ai. (Or just anyone at all, actually; we never really see him lashing out towards people. Even when he brings Ryosuke, or Airi up... he.. actually talks in a pretty soft sense despite they're absolutely horrible individuals. Even adds a -san and -kun to their names; I was surprised.) In Nino's case, on the other hand, it might have been something done without much thought, as her actions suggest she has that kind of streak. She’s the type who can say, "I wish you'd just die!" to someone but then cry if it actually happens. Her emotions fluctuate a lot.

We also have to note that Hikaru is just as good of a liar as Ai is. He's really used to lying, and that's what's brought him and Ai to relate to each other, bring them together and a crucial characteristic that's had Ai deem "he's the same as her". When he says he's the one who sent Ryosuke as he mentions "he wanted Ai to feel the same despair he's felt", we don't see his face and we only see him from the back. This is similar to the panel where Ai says "I can't love you", which was a well-meant but a really hurtful lie. Hikaru believed Ai and Aqua wants revenge on him. I think he may have tried to save Aqua of feeling even a slight sense of pity towards him as a person, making sure he really isn't worth feeling that way about. In fact, we don't see his expressions at all in that entire sequence, and what he says feels so off and ridiculous for a person with common sense to say. I feel like a lot of it could be a lie. AND I feel like he was putting on a facade for most of the scenes he's been in before the final arc- before he came to meet the twins. He's probably always been pretending to be okay with a smile on his face but he probably was pretty despairing and dead inside (his eyes turn black when he's in despair, you know)

At least so far in the story, Kamiki has never shown much interest in Ai's idol activities in the scenes he's been in. Instead, it was Ai who learned something from Kamiki. The fact that Ai is an idol, a star who attracts attention, was never portrayed as particularly important to Kamiki during their relationship. Ryosuke is a big fan of Ai as an idol, but there’s no clear reason why Kamiki would connect with someone related to Ai in that way. To Kamiki, Ai was like a light—a single, unique person he deeply depended on and loved, as if he could live with just her by his side, yeah, but it's a little different from viewing her as a idol. He probably depended on her a lot, but it seems he loved her not because she was an idol or someone shiny and valuable, but because she was someone who could understand and care for him. He doesn’t have the mentality of "I can't forgive an imperfect Ai." That kind of anger, resentment, or desire to make Ai suffer seems more likely to come from Nino. Kamiki even seems to think it’s natural that Ai wouldn’t like him back. He’s too accustomed to that feeling.

Kamiki’s actions suggest a certain helplessness. He seems to accept everything without resistance, always at a loss for words. This has been consistent from the moment he was introduced. When he asked Ai, "You love me, right? You won’t leave me, right?" and her response was something like, "I don’t know," he ended up going outside and crying in the rain. When he was gaslit by Airi in an absurd way, he despaired and stood there, frozen in panic. Even when Ai said something harsh and broke up with him, he couldn’t say anything back. Even 15 years later, he watches a video and is rendered speechless, reaches out to Ai, and curls up. This sort of behavior is so consistent that I realize this character doesn’t have any self-defense. He just accepts everything as his fault and internalizes it. It’s like he’s been so used to terrible things happening to him from a very young age that he doesn’t even think "I hate this" but rather, "People like it when I do this, so this must be right." With that kind of mentality, he gets pushed around. He seems to accept every negative judgment about himself and engages in self-destructive behavior.

The likelihood of this character doing something aggressive like sending Ryosuke to Ai is, in my opinion, less than 2%. Suddenly lashing out four whole years after the breakup? He probably went to cry after he got the phone call. Didn't he just reach his drinking age? Maybe he went to drink for the first time because he was so distressed after receiving the call… and somehow, in that state, he met Ryosuke and accidentally let the address slip, which led to Ai’s death, and now he feels like he has to save her with all he's got. Ai's the one who saved him, and it's kind of natural for him to feel like "Now I should save her in return, I don't care what happens to me!" That would make sense, right? The lyrics, the character’s personality—it all fits if you take it this way. And his personality doesn’t seem to have changed all so much actually. While reading the manga, I thought, "What’s with his way of speaking? He has such low self-esteem." Now, reading it again, it feels like he’s deeply immersed in self-blame.

The song Fatal starts with the lyrics being:

Waking up from another dream, I open my wet eyelids I curse my helplessness from those far days which dreadfully remain Will this despair that burns my body feed me someday? I keep burning myself from it as I crave adoration

This is totally how Kamiki would feel after he learns about Ai's death, if that's not what he's ever expected to happen. He'd be in utter despair and feel so helpless about not having been able to do anything as the only love of his life die like that. That's why he's so desperate in the entire song,

Without you, I cannot live anymore I would sacrifice anything for you I can’t get enough of your love What should I use to fill in what’s missing?

These sets of lyric's too intense for it to be Aqua's, but it fits his dad's mentality perfectly. Kamiki's life's been so miserable.

Ai is an exceptionally well-crafted character. When you consider the details, like the story of her trauma from the glass shards in her white rice (which broke my heart when I read it), you can see how much thought the author put into crafting her psychology.

Why write a story where she asks a favor to her own dear children to help out the person who's the very cause of her death? How could that character be portrayed as if they truly, desperately loved Ai? Isn’t that incredibly cruel to Ai, the victim? If it were me, I wouldn’t write the story that way. I don't think the writer would have either. I really feel that Hikaru isn’t the type of character who would do something like that. And since Ai’s affection for that character aligns with that sort of interpretation, with it being really consistent, I think… it's a lie and a misunderstanding.

I think that, unable to forgive himself for unintentionally leaking the address and thus contributing to Ai’s death, Hikaru wanted to be punished and ended up telling Aqua a ridiculous lie. If someone could open Ai’s heart to that extent, it could only mean that this person was genuinely beloved by her. For someone as wounded as Ai, finding a person she wanted to love that deeply isn’t easy. But if that character had committed such a terrible act, what would it mean? It would feel so unsettling. It would conclude that Ai failed to find someone to love, that she trusted the wrong person, and that the protagonists’ father was someone who harmed their mother. When you consider what the manga is ultimately trying to say, the less responsible the character Ai loved is for her death, and the more genuine their feelings for Ai, the greater the impact would be. It would also make sense in the context of Ai, who wanted to give love, finally finding someone deserving of it.

I couldn’t form a solid opinion until Chapter 154 and Fatal came out. I wasn’t sure how things would turn out and just watched. But after those chapters, I felt that this interpretation was correct. When you interpret it this way, it aligns with the psychological depictions throughout the story. It’s not that I deliberately interpreted it favorably because I liked this couple, but rather that as I analyzed it, this interpretation made sense, which made me more favorable towards them. There's certainly a difference between the two.

I was really happy when I received your message and a few other ones saying that my interpretation was warm, persuasive, and made you appreciate this ship ;v;.. Oh, I really want to get this right too... thanks guys, I very appreciate your kind words, sorry if what I say turns out to be wrong but I am trying my best!!

I take psychology very seriously, so if this turns out to be right, I’d be thrilled! This is what makes the most sense for me at this point, so I'll hold onto it until things clear up~

Again, super long reply! I hope you're okay with it, anon! Lots of love, thanks for the cheers and kind words!!