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ghoulphile · 7 months ago

Text

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position.

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.”

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout smut #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout #fallout fanfic

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

Note

Can I request headcanons for Logan and Wade with shy gn s/o please?

I’m going to assume separate unless told otherwise as poly relationship between Wade/Logan and reader would be cool too, but again unless specified I’m just going to assume it’s separate.

Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

Wade found your shyness adorable but found your reactions to his teasing and flirting.

And he abuses the shit out of that to his hearts content.

Mouse was a nickname that you were given almost immediately from the moment you met as you were quiet and cute as one too that to Wade it just fit you perfectly.

Wade; stop being so fucking cute!

You: huh?

Wade: you heard me! It should be illegal to be as cute as you! You should be locked up for the thing you do to me, but I’d rather keep ahold of the details because half of them might make you faint little mouse.

You: oh. 😶🫣

Wade will make it a tradition to take you by surprise, whether it be by randomly kissing you, hugging you from behind, playfully smacking your ass, it didn’t matter because your tendency to whine his name out in embarrassment ‘waaaaddde!’ Before hiding your face in his chest as he laughs and whispers teasing words into your ear that only makes your flustered state worsen.

Wade didn’t mind that you were shy, he really didn’t as he found it to be one of the many things he loved about you and wanted to protect, he didn’t want you to feel as though you should have to change to better fit him when he was more content with you being you.

He’s never had as much fun nor laughter in his life like he did when he was with you, and Wade considered himself lucky to have someone as soft and sweet as you that he often times thought you’d be better off without a fuck up like him in your life but he’d kept it to himself, disguising it with humour and teasing you instead.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

Logan finds you being shy amusing to say the least.

It brought his protective instincts out as someone as soft and shy and softly spoken as you would need him by your side 24/7.

He’s your guard dog, scary dog privilege in the form of a very traumatised man who’s became more familiar with pain and heartbreak than the tender affection and touches you give him.

So you found it best to be patient with Logan and give him time to become familiar with your love and affection until he felt ready to reciprocate in his own way. And Logan appreciated you for that and would let you know his appreciation by planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

Logan is a softy with you and while he’s quick to bite back at other people, with you he’s much softer with his words that they’re practically sweet murmurs whispered within your ear, as he held you against his chest protectively as you both drifted off to sleep.

He more or less acts as your voice whenever you felt discomfort, he’d could easily tell from your bodily language and would immediately step in, and voice your discomfort for you in your stead for Logan knew that you’d rather avoid conflict then delve headfirst into it like him.

However Logan would be the type to try and teach you ways to defend yourself and how to stick up for yourself when he couldn’t, this is probably out of his fear of losing someone dear to his heart again, but he wasn’t about to risk looking you when he could give you the tools to keep yourself safe while he was away.

He gives you his jacket, just make sure that the point gets across that you were his and not theirs, after all he’s a possessive man who doesn’t like sharing what’s his with anyone else.

He didn’t care about anyone else, you were the only thing he gave two shits about alongside Laura Kinney (x 23) other then you two, nothing else mattered to Logan. He just wanted you to be happy for as long as possible.

Side note: he’d love it if you and Laura got along, it’ll mean all the more to him.

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a-b-riddle · 7 months ago

Text

Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #grovel

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vernoniekiss · 4 months ago

Note

Hii I don't know if you still take requests but if you do could you pls write how would the members react if their s/o has the habit of hiding their smile with their hand/s ?

I hope it makes sense :,) Thank you so much!

svt with an s/o who has an habit of covering their smile with their hands | [ ot13 ]

a/n: hiii, thankyou sm for the request!! sorry it took kinda long, couldn’t really think of what each member would do.

[🫧] seungcheol

- thinks it’s cute. thinks you’re cute. feel like at the start he’ll think you’re insecure of your smile so he reassures you that your smile is beautiful because you are beautiful. but when he finds out later it’s a habit, he would slowly coax it away.

[🫧] jeonghan

- the type to squish your cheeks together. “aigoo my baby”. teases you alot, “are you shy~”. “is your smile reserved for me~”. loves you with all his heart, every habit of yours, everything. thinks it’s cute that you cover your smile.

[🫧] joshua

- shows you his ◠‿◠ smile to try and persuade you to also smile. he thinks you’re so adorable, but he’ll be pouty if you don’t let him see your smile. “you don’t want me to see you smile :( ?”

[🫧] junhui

- i don’t think he does things any different because everyone has habits and sometimes it not easy to lose. but if you ever feel insecure, he’ll always there to tell you that you’re beautiful and you shouldn’t listen to those who brings you down because their jealous.

[🫧] hoshi

- horanghae his way into your heart like the way he’ll 100% makes you hornaghae when taking pictures, this makes sure you don’t cover your smile. makes you laugh 24/7 because it’s his job.

[🫧] wonwoo

- he’s observable, notices during the first few weeks of your relationship that you tend to hide your smile. would also think you’re insecure until you reassure him it’s just a habit you had while growing up. he understands now and when he’s lucky, he sees your smile without you hiding it.

[🫧] woozi

- cutie, wooahae’s to make you laugh and smile. also the one to not force you to drop this habit because it’s what makes you. you. he loves you for you and if you try and change yourself to fit in, he’ll be sad !!!!

[🫧] dokyeom

- with his outgoing and hilarious nature,it’s hard to always cover your mouth when you smile. and that makes him happy because you’re smiling !!!!!!! your smiling is like a sunshine for him.

[🫧] mingyu

- big baby. pouts when you hide your smile from him. takes your hands in his while kissing you over your face until your laughing and telling him to stop. “there’s my smile”.

[🫧] minghao

- doesn’t force you to stop your habit, but wants to be the one who makes you comfortable to smile without covering it. he thinks it’s all about time, and going at your own pace.

[🫧] seungkwan

- he wants you to be confident in yourself. so he’s always there cheering you on. “you have a BEAUTIFUL smile” “you should smile more”. he’s there to defend you if someone judges you for the fact you keep covering your smile.

[🫧] vernon

- loves you for you. sometimes would take your hands away to hold them while you both laugh away. 100% would have hundreds of photos where you smile without your hands covering it. would remind you everyday that he loves your smile. brightens up his day a whole lot if he sees it.

[🫧] chan

- tbf he’s the type to admire you from afar when your out with your friends. when your hiding your smile, he has HEART EYES. his eyes are always on you. you smile, he also smiles. you’re laughing? he’s also laughing. when it’s just you two, he’ll sometimes nudge your hands away when you smile.

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taifenggg · 6 months ago

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hi! 🌷 i love your scenarios so i instantly came to rq here <3

could you write about mc and the brothers having possessive s3x for the first time? their relationship is relatively new and they did it a few times, but for some reason they got jealous and the way they deal with it is by having somewhat angry / possessive s3x with reader (which is very different from what they're used to do

for example: belphie is usually lazy or slow, satan is a gentleman and spends a lot of time on foreplay, reader notices how their usual this time is almost the opposite bc the brother in question is SO jealous

idk if it made sense </3 if writing the 7 of them feels too much for you, then would mammon + satan + barbatos be okay? they're my favorites!

have an amazing day btw i love your content

Content Warning(s): NSFW obviously LMAO, hairpulling(Lucifer, Belphie), semi-public(Mammon, Asmo), overstimulation(Satan), slight degradation(Belphie), not proofread LOL

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie, Barbatos

Authors Notes: hi there! i'm so flattered you love my writing, it means a lot! and dw I saw your other ask, so you're all good no worries about verification. nonnie, I'll do you one better and I ended up writing all the bros plus barbs as a bonus lol. enjoy!

nsfw under the cut! minors dni or i will block you :)

Reminder to abide by my guidelines for NSFW content tysm :]

Guidelines for NSFW Content [ ◇ ]

Lucifer [🦚💙]

Others keep occupying your time.

"Remind me again, who exactly do you belong to?"

Your moans are stifled as you press your face against the pillow. Lucifer's pace is relentless and although he can be rough in general, tonight feels different. There's something far more carnal and possessive in the way Lucifer thrusts into you. His movements are done so with reckless abandon, a stark contrast to how he usually takes you.

"Y-you Lucifer!" you gasp, body shaking from the intense pleasure coursing through your body. You yelp and moan out his name as he runs a hand through your scalp, pulling your face so that you're staring at him, his hands having a firm grip on your hair. "I can't hear you, louder," he commands you, your faces practically centimeters away from each other.

"You Lucifer!" you sob, feeling his large hand pressing into the small of your back, pushing you down against the mattress. Lucifer smirks, his other hand trailing down to your neck, holding you there firmly. "That's right my love, me. Not my brothers and certainly not that shady sorcerer," he practically spits out those last words. Lucifer's head falls back as he continues to thrust roughly into you, feeling himself close to his release.

You can feel yourself tightening around him, and you arch your back, body shaking as your orgasm washes over you. Lucifer lets out a low moan, making a few more shallow thrusts into you before spilling his seed into your hole. Chest heaving, he pulls out, watching with satisfaction as his release trickles out of you. Taking two fingers, he trails them up your inner thighs, causing you to jump from how sensitive you were after your high. Lucifer takes his fingers and takes the excess that spills out, prodding it back in.

"Keep that in there my love, it's proof that you're mine after all, if not, I'll have to punish you a bit more unfortunately. You can do that, can't you?"

Mammon [💰💛]

Someone thought flirting with you at the casino was a good idea.

"Dammit, you drive me crazy y'know?"

Your legs are currently wrapped around Mammon's waist, goosebumps littering your skin as you feel the wall against your back, your shirt long discarded. Your arms are wrapped securely around Mammon's neck for support. Mammon kisses you roughly, hungrily, as if he were scared of you running away or disappearing from right in front of him.

"That damn incubus," he hisses, pushing into you, "Thinking they have anything on the Great Mammon. You're my lucky charm, no one else's." His teeth scrape at your neck as he leaves mark after mark. You're pretty sure your back is rubbed raw from how fast and hard Mammon is thrusting into you, and your legs shake around Mammon's waist, but despite this Mammon holds you securely, his grip on your thighs giving you enough support.

"Mammon!" you whine, your hands tangled in his hair. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and you can hear Mammon gasp, groan, and curse with each thrust he makes. Judging by how loud the two of you were being, you had no doubt that the entire casino knew that you were getting fucked hard by Mammon.

"You're mine alright? Mine, mine, mine, my treasure," he whispers in your ear, and he accentuates each of his words with a slap of his hips against yours. Your moans become louder and you can practically feel yourself on the verge of releasing onto him.

"Mine." And with one last word, Mammon makes one last thrust up into you, hitting your most sensitive spot and you practically go limp in his arms as your orgasm washes over you. Mammon's hips slowly still, and he checks over you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I won't let anyone take you from me alright? Much less some random incubus who thinks they can steal my treasure from me."

Leviathan [🐍🧡]

You showed him your duo in an online game.

"Levi, they're just a friend!" You gasp softly as he pushes you into his bathtub, a pout on his face. Immediately, he presses himself up against you, rubbing his cheek against your exposed collarbone. "I don't care," he grumbles softly, one hand snaking up to pin your hands above your head, his other hand trailing underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. "I should be the only one to carry you, not anyone else. You're my player 2, my Henry," he nips at your shoulder and you shudder, feeling yourself grow aroused from the close proximity and from his touches.

"I don't care if they're ranked number one, I'll prove I'm better than them by beating them!" His pupils are dilated as he looks at you below him, and he can't help the sudden ache and the growing tent in his pants. Gasping softly, he starts grinding up against you, and you can't help but reach up for him, pulling his hips flush against yours, in search of some very much needed friction to relieve the tension you're feeling.

Both of your gasps can be heard, and you're pretty sure that if Levi didn't soundproof his room, anyone walking outside could probably hear just how heated the two of you were getting. You tighten your grasp on him, your hands snaking up to tug at the back of his hair cause Levi to moan against you as he kisses you roughly.

You stare up at him blearily, not even realizing when he shifted into his demon form. Shivering, one of your hands move from the back of his head, down to his abdomen and Levi jerks in your grasp, a flush painting his pale face.

"Do you know how badly I want you? Please don't give your attention to others, just stay focused on me."

Satan [😾💚]

Gets riled up because he sees Lucifer closer to you than he'd like.

Your chest heaves from exertion as Satan brings you to your umpteenth release. Your legs are shaking from overstimulation and you're pretty sure you've lost count of how many times Satan has made you come. His bangs stick to his forehead as he dives back between your legs, sucking marks along your inner thighs, his grip digging into the flesh of your thighs.

Your hands make their way to his hair, tugging on the golden strands and you feel Satan groan, his moans sending vibrations down your core. He looks up at you, pupils dilated. "Satan no more please! I can't take it anymore," you whimper softly, feeling tears prick at the edge of your vision. Satan only laughs looking up at you, using a hand to push his hair out of his eyes. "Nono, we're not finished yet," his voice is dangerously soft as he stares at you, body trembling underneath his gaze. His nose wrinkles and his eyes narrow as he pulls your bottom closer to him, once again positioning himself between your legs. "I can still smell him on you and I intend to erase every trace of Lucifer from you, from your mind, and from your body. Understand?"

You slowly nod, your thighs quivering either from anticipation or overstimulation, you weren't sure at this point anymore.

Satan smiles as he licks a stripe up where you're most sensitive, and your body jerks still sensitive from all your orgasming from earlier. You squirm to get your body away from him but his grip holds tight to you.

"Stay right where you are. I thoroughly intend to take my time with you tonight."

Asmodeus [💋🩷]

Your fans started getting too touchy with you.

Asmo isn't one to get jealous easily....not usually.

However, today was supposed to be about just you and him and it frustrated him to no end seeing your fans flock over to you, occupying all of your time. Asmo's eyes narrow as he watches them practically latch themselves onto you, and you barely pushing them away, laughing it off lightly. You're shocked by his sudden actions, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the crowd and down a secluded alleyway. His silence is rather unsettling, and there's a strange gleam in his eyes.

.....

"A-Asmo slow down!" You gasp out, feeling your back pressed against the wall, and Asmo's gaze trained on you, his hands sliding up your arms, pinning them above your head. You shiver, feeling his breath grace the outer shell of your ear, and you unintentionally tilt your head to the side, giving him more room to slot his face into your neck.

"Do you love me?" His question catches you off guard and you stare at him quizzically. "What? Of course I do." you frown slightly pulling on your hands, but Asmo holds your hands in place firmly. He presses his body against yours, and you gasp slightly, feeling his knee pressing against your crotch. "You sure seemed to be having fun entertaining those fans of yours. While I don't mind everyone fawning over you, today was just supposed to be about me and you was it not?" He has a slight pout on his face, lip jutting out.

You stare at him incredulously, eyes wide. If you were being honest, Asmo was adorable, especially with that little pout on his face. "It's not like you to be this jealous," you laugh a little, your face flushing. You feel him press your body more against the wall, and you have to suppress the urge to let out a moan as he continues grinding his leg against where you're most sensitive. His hand snakes past the waistband of your pants and you nearly keel over from his touch, leaning against him for support.

"I'm only like this for you, and no one else."

Beelzebub [🍔❤️]

His Fangol teammates were far friendlier to you than he'd like.

Your throat is sore, but that's a given considering you had spent the good part of the last few hours screaming out Beel's name, cheering him on after he scored point after point. What you certainly didn't forsee was you practically folded over one of the benches in the locker room, Beel holding one of your legs wide open as he thrusts into you roughly. The way you're positioned, if someone were to open the door to the locker room would end up seeing you sprawled out as Beel rammed himself against you.

"S-slow down Beel! It's too much!" Your head falls back, and you feel like you're being split apart by how big he is. Normally, Beel is much more gentle, taking his time with you but it seems that in the heat of the moment, he chose to forgo any sense of moderation.

"I don't like that my teammates got too close to you," he grunts, hips stuttering as he pulls you closer, his chest heaving from exertion. Ah that's right, he's referring to his teammates that immediately crowded around you to thank you for cheering so fervently for them. You remember the way Beel watched you from outside the crowd, his expression unreadable. You can recall conversing with his fellow teammates before feeling a pair of hands loop around your waist, pulling you towards them....which somehow led to the situation that you were currently in.

Beel's grip on your thigh is borderline painful, and you're sure that there'll be marks there come tomorrow from how roughly he's currently manhandling you. You reach up grasping at his arm, momentarily causing his movements to falter as he looks at you, temporarily shaken out of his frenzy. "Beel slow down please, I swear I only have eyes for you," you whimper softly, your legs shaking. His expression softens as he stares down at you, leaning over to press an apologetic kiss to your forehead. His motions are slower now, you notice, and there's a tenderness in the way he holds onto you now, one hand pressed against your waist, the other still holding onto your thigh but much less tight now.

"Sorry, you drive me crazy. I promise I'll make this up to you later."

Belphegor [🐮💜]

Your project partner was getting too buddy-buddy with you.

"Hahh, fuck you're so tight~"

Belphie practically hisses this in your ear as he sinks into you, bent over one of the desks in an empty classroom. The surface is cold against your front, your RAD uniform unbuttoned, and shirt pushed up as Belphie leans entirely against you. Your knuckles are white from how hard they're gripping the desk, meanwhile, Belphie has a good grasp on you from behind, his hand tugging at your scalp.

Your back arches as he thrusts into you, using your head as leverage, and you're pretty sure everyone outside has a pretty good idea of what's going on, based on how loudly the desk is scraping against the floor. Your gasp, shoulders hunched as you hold onto desperately to the desk. Belphie's tail flicks irritably as he watches your expression. "Enjoying this are you? Do you really like everyone outside knowing how I'm using you right now? Let them know how desperate you are for me to fuck you dumb like this. Go on, moan louder why don't you."

Your heart pounds in your chest and you let out shuddering breaths as Belphie's hips snap against you, hitting your most sensitive spots. He leans over, whispering in your ear, "The door's unlocked, and anyone could walk in right now and see the two of us like this. Are you getting off to this? To the idea of others seeing what a mess you are right now? Well, that's too damn bad because no one can have you like I can, and certainly not your project partner....what's their face?" He practically spits out, and you can feel the jealousy practically dripping off of him.

"Thinking they're better than me, too bad they'll never get the chance to see you like this. Oh well, you'll behave for me won't you?"

+ Bonus

Barbatos [⌛🖤]

The Young Master was occupying too much of your time.

"Apologies, I'm afraid I won't be able to restrain myself tonight."

You stare at Barbatos confused, watching as he approaches you at the foot of the bed, smoothly pushing you down in one swift moment with one hand. The other lifted to his mouth as he bites at the finger, and pulls it off just as swiftly. Your mouth is agape as he switches hands, holding you down with ease as he removes his other glove.

"As much as I'd like to thank the young master for consistently inviting you over for tea, I will admit there are times when it was just the two of us without his presence." His hands trail your figure, and you're not quite sure what it is about him tonight but he seems.....different. He's far more forward, taking the initiative rather than waiting for you to take the lead. You gasp as you feel his mouth on you, his teeth scraping along your neck. You gasp, leaning away so he has more room to do as he pleases.

"Barbatos-" He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. There's just something that turns him on so much, seeing you underneath him so helpless and pliant. His nose is wrinkled slightly as he gazes at you. You lay there, back arching as Barbatos has his way with you, cold hands caressing you, but not touching you where you ached for him the most.

"Hush now, let me take care of you, my love."

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beanxiv · 8 months ago

Text

satoru gojo who has the biggest sweet tooth ever but won't hesitate to offer you a bite of his kikufuku-- even though it's his favorite.

satoru gojo who, when you shake your head to him buying you an expensive gift, buys it for you anyways, because no amount of money will be more valuable than seeing you happy with a what he's bought you. especially when he knows its his name on the card that's being slid through the reader to purchase whatever it is you set your eyes on.

satoru gojo who readily pulls his blindfold/sunglasses off in your presence because only you quiet the overlapping, draining echoes in his head.

satoru gojo who peppers you with kisses for as long as you let him, because you deserve to feel just how much adoration he has for you.

satoru gojo who takes you out to gorgeous high-end restaurants, having the both of you dress up just as gorgeously. not to mention, throughout the night you'll hear endless compliments of how "that outfit really compliments your figure," or how, "that color makes your eyes look so pretty." and so on and so forth, satoru can't run out of compliments when you give him so much to talk about

satoru gojo who is the best at princess treatment. do not try opening your own door around him. he will do somersaults to get there before you can. you know those tiktoks of people rolling over the top of the car and dropping onto the ground to open the door for their significant other? yeah, that's satoru.

satoru gojo who surprises you with those giant, beautiful bouquets that have money and your favorite snacks in them because he loves to see your expression when he hands it to you

satoru gojo who loves to show you off. he'll send the gc with him, shoko, and suguru endless texts about how he loves his s/o so much and how he's so lucky to have them. and he sends especially petty messages sometimes about how suguru and shoko are still single while he's happily married (he'll say this before you're even engaged)

satoru gojo who used to not get flustered by anyone because-- well he's satoru gojo-- he's the one who gets people all flustered up. but when you came into his life? try as he might to talk smooth and be flirty, you turned him into a stuttering mess sometimes. he'd play it off when he got lucky, but whenever you caught him off guard? he'd blush to his ears, glancing away and all.

satoru gojo who always texts you if he's at the store to ask if you want him to pick up something for you while he's there.

satoru gojo who, if you're sick, will act like you're dying in his arms. he'll panic, rushing around to get you medicine, whatever snacks you're craving, etc. he showers you in kisses and cuddles like they'll be his last

alternatively, satoru gojo who, when he gets sick, demands attention 24/7. you're not there when he wakes up? he'll pout and be upset until he's had his fill of your cuddles. loves when you feed him while he's sick, it makes him feel so loved and taken care of.

satoru gojo who loves when you ask for his opinion. which outfit is nicer? well both of them look perfect on you, but that one brings out your skin tone. which show should you watch? what about the one where you'll love to watch together? it makes him feel so important when you ask what he prefers.

satoru gojo who kicks his feet and giggles when he gets a text from you. he's on a mission with suguru, shoving his phone in suguru's face giggling over whatever you said. the phone is so close to his face that whatever is on the screen isn't even legible at this proximity but it makes satoru skip like a little schoolgirl as he and suguru walk to wherever they've been assigned to.

satoru gojo who asks shoko for advice since she's a friend of yours. asking her questions like, "should I get them this or this?" or "do they like this or this better?"

satoru gojo who starts a book or tv series just because you recommended it to him. because when has his beautiful partner ever steered him wrong? this applies for any advice you've given him too

satoru gojo who makes you an example for megumi. "see this, megumi? your standards should be this high! look how perfect y/n is, you should find you a partner like that too!"

satoru gojo who shows you megumi's picture album of when he was younger because he loves to see the two most important people in his life bonding, even if it means embarrassing megumi.

on that note, satoru gojo who's apartment is filled with photos of you and megumi and all his friends and family, and his phone's wallpaper is a picture of you too

satoru gojo who watches old tapes of you and him in high school together a lot whenever you're on missions without him. the nostalgia makes him miss the times when everything was okay in high school, but it also makes him so grateful that he finally managed to make you his after pining for you for so long

satoru gojo who's possessive but in a boastful way, you posted a tiktok? he's the first like, comment, and save. spams your comment section saying, "THATS ACTUALLY MY S/O" and whatnot because he's absolutely obsessed with you

satoru gojo, the strongest sorcerer, who is absolutely no match for you because the moment you make eye contact with him, he just goes weak and can't say no to a single request of yours

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