#the more i did the more deeply attached i got to people

[huginsmemory]

@the-gay-prometheus THANK YOU YES! It'd been a while since I read TBOB, but with the details you really see that even though there are instances before even the sticky note, Bill doesn't do much direct physical harm to Ford, even if it ultimately ramps up to very verbal/situational abuse with only a dash of physical abuse... Even though Bill usually will happily go for physical abuse. And I mean, also looking at Bill scratching at the door thing... Bill is also desperate. There IS a timeline for how long they can stay in the nightmare realm and I think there is something terrifying on Bill's end of having that escape suddenly be shut off to him... (But that also doesn't detract from the horror of what Ford is experiencing).

Also, I think some of the 'niceties' Bill goes for could also be construed as 'carrot and stick routine', especially after the rooftop incident, with the fire and the chess set, but the thing is that it DOES come out of Bill's care for Ford and not just him wanting Ford to boot up the portal (it's a look at what we had; we can have this again, I want this again too. But it's only possible if you co-operate). And I think it comes out of the fact this is such a incredible well done depiction of an abusive relationship because just as there are often good times in abusive relationships that have people coming back to them, the person who is abusive most of the time does have a form of deep care for or love the other person, but it's a selfish love that is twisted by that person's own desires and needs which overrules their partners own autonomy (perhaps a better word is deeply attached... one can argue the definitions here. Also this is NOT me excusing those folks. Get the fuck out of there. It's just that relationships and caring for people can be more twisted than what people like to assume on the surface). And you see that with them. Bill cares about Ford, but he's also extremely selfish and not only that but self-destructive; this triangles got a whole SWATH of issues, and he can't for the life of him be honest about anything, especially regarding losing face. He lies and lies and lies (which I've chewed on over here lol). The only time we really see him be honest is with Ford about his dimension when he calls himself indirectly a monster (cough, self destructive tendencies from guilt)... And I think what's compelling is that he HAS been somewhat truthful with Ford before, because he does care about and relates to Ford. And it's possible if they did talk he would have been possibly honest again with Ford, about the nightmare dimension falling apart. But it doesn't happen because Ford refuses, which makes perfect sense narratively. And I really can't see it going any other way, without them not both being the characters that they are.

And I think WHY I really like the both of them as you've said is the tragedy of it. That Bill actually CARES but he's too fucked up over things to be able to really care properly. On top of the fact that they're both very similar characters and have found refuge and love with each other, even if it's codependent as fuck. And it all falls apart, even if there was real care and love in it, before it turned (exponentially) toxic. Good tragedy is when things COULD have turned out okay but the characters (will always) fail to make the right decisions, will always fuck it up. And you see that, cause you wonder what would happen if Bill was honest about the nightmare dimension, and to some degree if Ford would have actually spoken to Bill (and if Bill was honest in that conversation). But that's not them. Besides they've also got a fuck ton of other issues they'd have to deal with on top of that...

Really can't get over the CAN WE TALK? stickynotes. And I mean I think part of it really kinda clicked when I've seen some fanart about it. We really see in TBOB that Ford after beginning to hear voices slipping through the cracks and questions Bill, to learn what Bill really intended, ENTIRELY shuts down his communication with Bill. And you see Bill when he gets questioned in that moment responds with a heavily implied dialogue along the lines of "haha, yeah I tricked you, I'm here to overtake your dimension". But Bill still expects Ford to respond to him in some way, and it's very clear that Bill is shocked when Ford REFUSES to talk to him. And what's interesting is Bill doesn't just IMMEDIATELY begin with threats; he actually leaves stickynotes first, before Bill realizes he's FUCKED UP big time and gets really nasty. There's something pleading with the CAN WE TALK? sticky note. There's a point where Bill does realize he's not getting what he expected, that he's missing Ford, and that he's willing to possibly even smooth some things over, explain things better (maybe even the part that the nightmare dimension is unraveling perhaps) or persuade Ford into Bill's plans. But Ford refuses, and it's already too late for Bill because just like with Stan, Ford feels betrayed and when Ford feels betrayed he'll mercilessly cut the person out of his life. Ford deeply, deeply holds hurt and betrayal and as a result he has zero desire to speak with Bill again (and also uhhh big red flag to take over the world, so also. Yeah).

And it's interesting because it's a slower ramp up until Bill is desperate and threatens, uses violence, because that's what he's always used when it comes down to it, and an ultimatum is given. It wasn't just threats out of the gate; Bill DID try to speak to Ford (btw this is not me being like Ford should have spoken to Bill and it would be magically healthy, cause no matter how you slice it it's just a toxic mess tbh). Threats out of the gate would have been faster; there's over three weeks in the timeline, before Ford goes through the portal (althought we don't get too much context around exactly when everything occurs). That's a lot of time! But Bill didn't threaten Ford immediately. And I think part of that reason is because Bill expected Ford to speak to him, expected their relationship or at least their project to mean enough to Ford that Ford would speak to him and then continue their work, once his anger cooled off. And I think also part of it is because Bill cared about Ford, not that he'd admit it in the moment; but he'd rather Ford willingly be alongside him, then have to force him through threats to do the work on the portal. You see that, even after Ford spends 30 years trying to kill him and nearly even does, when he offers him during wierdmageddon to be a henchmaniac. Bill cares about Ford, wants Ford beside him. But then Ford continues to refuse to engage with him at all, and Bill realizes he's lost Ford, and progressively gets more desperate and angrier as he's still refused, and falls into the violence he usually uses, to get Ford to cooperate.

Anyhow it's one of those things that you wonder what would've happened if they DID speak, but that would ultimately be defying a big part of who Ford is... So in a way it's a juicy juicy tidbit to chew on, the implications beyond the writing on the sticky note.

[saisons-en-enfer]

Always an ephemeral presence, only noticed when I'm there

and even when I'm there, I'm really not

[mourn-and-watch]

no but essek's abnormal behaviours in the last arc and especially in episode 140 are my roman empire. which is ironic because aeor is something of a roman empire itself. but in all seriousness, it was the episode that made me realise i love essek and his development so much and it kinda summarised it even before caleb's epilogue.

and i mean the "it's not fair" scene specifically. it's like, an epitome of his whole character progression from a person who put An Objectively Important Goal above all else without hesitation to someone who can't help but care for people around even more than his goal, no matter how big and relevant it is.

the mighty nein - and he alongside them - pretty much saved the world and freed an ancient city from thousand-year-long suffering. they defeated nine extremely powerful menacing entities who managed to stay out of everyone's sight for years and were so close to achieving their goal and dooming exandria in the process. they did the impossible and became heroes and somehow, they survived, even though they had bidden farewells a couple of hours ago because they had already understood what they had been facing. and nevertheless. they made it.

and none of them was celebrating.

mighty nein are basically essek's only friends. he knew them to be very unusual people, to put it lightly, loud and stubborn and completely inescapable once they consider you to be one of their own. and they showed him so much kindness and put so much faith in him, they were here playing the most atrocious music ever and digging clay in his backyard for a spell they invented just to help one of theirs and asking him if he could bring them pastries the day after they found out he was lying to them and had started a war. they were chaotic and weird and sometimes unbearable but most importantly they were carrying so much hope with them all this time - a hope they could end the war, a hope they could stop the angel of irons cult, a hope they could get better, a hope he could get better, and now, finally, that they could save their lost friend.

and that hope shattered, just like that, the moments after they'd already made the impossible. they saved so many souls - and then could not get back just that one.

for essek "my intentions were never good they were important" thelyss it just. shouldn't have mattered. they won. it could have been worse. people die and when they die they rarely come back. they should've been happy everyone else barely made it alive.

but for some reason, mighty nein being so defeated after they saved the world exposed him to that overwhelming feeling of injustice and unfairness. and i mean, there were many things essek considered to be unfair, but when i watched his first appearance and his interactions with mighty nein later on til their reunion in aeor arc, i wouldn't dare to guess that one of the things on that list would be something that personal. and personal not even to him.

the thing is, essek didn't even know who that guy was. why mighty nein cared about him so much. he had an idea, i guess, that he was their friend once, or someone in that body was. it was also a person who wanted to unleash a terrifying horrific aberration onto the material plane. it was a person very dedicated to killing essek and his friends - and they still didn't take any pleasure in fighting him. essek didn't feel strongly about lucien or molly, because he never knew them.

i don't think he mourned his death and failed resurrection. he mourned mighty nein's hope, the one they put in him when they had no reason to, the one they offered yasha in the cathedral and the one they kept after the spell for veth failed and the one they carried til the very end because they wanted it to reach molly. they had saved people with this hope. they had saved nations. they had saved the world. but they ended up feeling like it hadn't even been worth anything.

how desperate would it feel, witnessing people who for some reason always saw good in you when they absolutely shouldn't, who made literal miracles out of nothing, who ended wars and fought gods and tricked the hags and freed cities from horrors beyond anyone's comprehension purely because they thought it was the right thing to do and also loved their friends this much, silently crying over a dead body they couldn't bring back to life? how desperate would it feel to realise that with all your knowledge about time you dedicated your life to and threw away any principles for, you can't undo this? no one can. some things are left to fate alone and this time it wasn't kind to them. no matter how much good they did, they still got slapped in the face.

and it was, i think, such a genuine moment of empathy. like, essek is the character who prefers to put up a facade and act distant and self-composed but this time he just. walked away unable to watch this. the could only say to fjord that it wasn't fair. even when he was caught off guard in nicodranas he was able to explain himself and his motives to an extent even though he was a nervous wreck whose extra important plan went to hell the second the only people he cared about appeared. this time he had nothing to elaborate on. it just wasn't fair. it wasn't fair his friends didn't get what they wanted the most. it wasn't fair he couldn't do anything to make it right.

it is such a sad and beautiful and even cathartic scene because it is about person who started a war that destroyed so many lives - and then met this ragtag group of weirdos who saw a lonely stand-offish guy and said "hey, let's be friends!" and didn't even wait for him to answer. he saw them being serious and calculated and he saw them being ridiculous and extremely stupid, he saw their mistrust to outsiders and their loyalty to each other, he made spells with them and paid a visit to their hot tub, he ate their stale pastries and drank their hot chocolate mixed with whiskey, he was welcomed amongst them and in their wonderful home, both in xhorhas before they even found out what he had done and in the tower when they already knew - and then, he saw them mourning their loss, defeated and helpless, and he, a person who believed there were things more important than whole nations, let alone just one life, couldn't help but share the pain they felt. a pure display of compassion from someone who detached himself from it, who didn't believe he could grow into a better person capable of it again, but became one nonetheless without even realising it

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

michael kaiser wanted to be loved.

he wanted unconditional, ethereal, and never ending love. he wanted to always be supported, that no matter what he did, he will always and still be loved. he wanted the constant feeling of being supported no matter what, that he’s a lovable creature, that he isn’t subhuman like his father had once told him.

soccer brought that to kaiser.

with soccer came satisfaction. he would crush his rivals, his enemies, and each time, he felt a little bit more human, a little bit more loved. it got to the point where that feeling of pleasure and accomplishment became addictive for kaiser, and his sole purpose for playing soccer was to crush his opponents and receiving more and more love.

he became so obsessed with the glory that came from soccer that he began neglecting his own health and harming himself whenever things didn’t go his way when it came to soccer. his fingers wrapped tightly around his throat was once an action of his father, although it now carried on to him. bruises on his body was something that carried on from his childhood to his adult life, even though he had managed to escape his father when he was 15 after having been recruited from the prison.

whenever he lost a soccer match, he would go back to his room and cut off his airflow with his tattooed hand pressing right above the base of his neck as he struggled for oxygen, coughs constantly escaping him. it was only natural; after all, he lost a soccer match. he lost a bit of his humanity and love. he was just becoming subhuman again.

kaiser became so obsessed with soccer that he didn’t even realize that someone who loved him unconditionally was right there, right in front of him this whole time, and yet he was so caught up in his own life that he never even realized.

you and kaiser were childhood best friends. he was your mihya, not michael, no kaiser. he was small, weak, and couldn’t stand up to his father. he didn’t know how to speak to people in a kind manner. he bled when he fell on concrete, and yet he never cried. his face was always covered in grime and dried blood, his body was always littered in bruises, and yet he never cried in front of you. it took months after meeting you for him to finally even smile in front of you.

the first time kaiser ever cried in front of you was when you had gotten him a gift for his birthday.

kaiser never knew how to react to gifts, so he didn’t enjoy receiving them. but it was his eighth birthday, you were obviously going to get your best friend a gift. it was just a simple keychain of a blue rose, a flower you knew he liked. when you handed it to him with a cheerful “happy birthday, mihya!”, tears had sprung to his eyes.

he asked you why you were willing to give him a gift, why you were willing to spend time with him. when you just answered with a worried look and quiet “well, you’re my best friend, of course i would”, kaiser knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

maybe that was why his descent into madness and obsession hit you harder than it did kaiser.

you had indeed stuck with him, even now, at nineteen. twelve years after your initial meeting. you’ve had a crush on him for exactly as long as you had both met, spiraling from a small childhood crush to being deeply and hopeless in love and attached to him. and yet you had no idea whether kaiser liked you or not; he was too obsessed with soccer to show any signs.

whenever kaiser lost a match, you knew that he was going to commit to a session of harming himself for at least an hour so again. somehow, you felt more pain that kaiser did when he did so, always outside of his door, banging for him to stop and begging him to not do this to himself every time while tears escaped your eyes. you loved him; you didn’t want the boy you loved to be so willing and constant with hurting himself.

he ignored you every time, occasionally telling you to go away or mind your own business.

you had enough with it one day. you were sick of it, constantly hearing his choked noises from his bedroom every time he lost a match. finally, one day, when kaiser lost a match, he stormed off to his room again. but before he could slam the door shut, you shoved your entire body weight against the door, trying to stop it from shutting.

“what the fuck are you doing?” kaiser hissed, trying to push the door shut. “mind your own business. i’ll be done soon enough.” but no avail; you continued your weak attempts of pushing the door open. kaiser scoffed from the other side. he usually avoided getting mad at you, although it was hard for him to do so in the first place. but now you were starting to piss him off. can’t he offer himself a therapeutic session in peace?

“no! mihya, stop it and just open the door.” you were beginning to get pushed back from the door, before you used your final backup plan and shoved your arm in between the open space left from the door. you yelped from the pain, and kaiser instantly lost all anger at that moment, pulling open the door immediately when he heard your yelp. you stepped into the room stiffly.

“are you retarded? what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” kaiser exclaimed, wide eyed as you clutched your arm, which was beginning to turn into the color of a rotting plum. you turned to glare at him, angry tears springing to your eyes.

“i’ll do this shit every fucking time for as long as you keep doing this to yourself every damn time you lost a match, you idiot.” you replied. you sighed before looking down somberly. “how long are you going to keep doing this to yourself, mihya? you’re obsessed with fame. you’re obsessed with all of this. you’re enjoying ruining the lives of other people for love. mihya, that’s not worth it. that’s not worth your body. that’s not worth your mentality.”

kaiser felt anger bubbling up inside of him again, and before he realized his, his voice raised to a level that he would usually never dare to use with you, although he would be fine using this tone with anyone else. “you don’t fucking understand! your father never called you a subhuman! he never choked you for no reason! your mother never left you! your father never beat you every day no particular reason! your father didn’t require you to steal every fucking day because his fatass can’t move two meters from the couch and his precious beer! soccer makes me feel loved! soccer makes me feel human! soccer is with me!”

for a moment, you stood there silently. you stared at him as he huffed, his breathing shallow from the loud rant. his eyes were sharp, and in that moment, only one thought ran through your head.

this was still your mihya.

he was yelling at you, you knew that. but he has every right to say all of this, to be mad at the world, at you. he has every right to be upset, to be angry. he has every right to rant about his trauma. he has every right to trauma dump. but at the same time, he’s missing a key component here.

“well, would soccer still be with you if you were nobody?! would all of those fans and self-satisfying thoughts still love you if you were no one?!” you shouted. your eyebrows knit together; did he not realize how fabricating this all was? how shallow this all was?

“no one loved me when i was no one!” kaiser hollered back. “no one loved me when i was just some stupid brat who spent most of his time outside of his house wandering on the streets! no one loved me when my father still used to beat me every day like some fucking punching back! no one loved me when i was still just a subhuman!”

and at that moment, a tear leaked from the corner of your eye. shit, this wasn’t even your problem, and yet angry tears were still flowing. your fists clenched, before finally, you screamed. “i loved you were you were no one!” finally, you finally finally finally got it out. kaiser froze, but you kept on going. “i loved you when you still wore dirty clothes every day! i loved you when you didn’t even know how to say a polite word to anyone! i loved you when you were still small and stupid and you!”

your lips quivered, more tears threatening to fall. you wiped your eyes. “before the ‘love’. before the fame. before soccer. and mihya,” you placed a hand on your swelling arm, that was going from rotting plum purple to the blue of kaiser’s eyes. “i still love you. i love you. but if you just can’t accept it and you’ll continue to wallow in that stupid destructive self-pity of yours where you think that no one loves you, then don’t come crawling back to me!”

you turned around to leave the room, your hand on the door knob, until a warm pair of arms wrapped around your waist. your felt tears begin to soak through your shirt from your shoulder, and your eyes widened. he’s crying?

“goddamn it, i don’t know why im fucking crying. i shouldn’t be. but what the fuck…” kaiser whispered into your shoulder. “i—i-“ he gulped, and your could see his hands interlock together as they squeezed the other like a lifeline. “i love you too.”

finally.

you turned around, separating his hands from the other and intertwining your fingers with his. you smiled softly at him, a small sniffle escaping you. “you said it. im so proud of you, mihya.” you knew how much trouble he had saying those words. how hard it was to say something that you had never heard before. “and i love you.”

silently, you got on your tip-toes, your lips almost touching his, before a few quiet words escaped you. “is this okay?”

kaiser huffed quietly. “way to ruin to moment. you’re this far into the process, and now you’re asking? but fuck yes.” you laughed before you softly planted your lips onto his.

the kiss wasn’t rough in the least, but it spoke of years of pent up emotion and unspoken pain. kaiser untangled his fingers from your and cupped your face so strangely gently, which he silently swore in his heart at that moment that he would never hold someone else like this, like the love of his life.

and when kaiser pulled away from the kiss, just a bit out of breath but just right, that’s when he saw it. deep in your eyes, and also in his.

the look of love.

word count: 1.8k (1878)

a/n: i watched shark tale for the first time the other day, and it had NO RIGHT being that good. the angie and oscar argument changed me forever, and it inspired me to make this. i was originally going to make this for isagi before i realized that isagi is AWARE that his parents love him, and that this prompt also matches with kaiser better.

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

masterlist.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

title from ‘under your spell’ by snow strippers, everytime I see an edit to him with this song it always eats so hard

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HELLO!

May I request a Yandere Sonic, Shadow and Silver (seperate) with a fem reader where comes from a different reality where they are fictional and somehow the hedgehogs became attached and obsessed with reader, reader is very much aware of their behavior and is also one of the reasons why she wants to go home to her own reality fast.

Sending loves to youu!!🫶🏻🤍

A/n: poll on, so now I'm putting images, I couldn't find any good ones

Yandere triple s x reader

Sonic:

At first, you couldnct believe it, you were in Sonics world.

The rolling green hills, the endless loops, the vibrant colors of the world, it was surreal. And meeting Sonic? That was the best part.

He was exactly like you imagined. Charismatic, funny, energetic. You geeked out about meeting him, and he was amused by how much you already knew about him. Sonic took an immediate liking to you, eager to show you around and let you experience the world firsthand.

The first few days were a dream come true. Running through Green Hill Zone, meeting Tails, going toe-to-toe with Eggman (it was actually more like watching Sonic handle it while you stood on the sidelines). Everything felt like a perfect adventure, straight out of a game.

Then, things started getting... off.

It began subtly. Sonic insisted on staying close to you all the time. You figured it was just him being protective. After all, you were just a human, and this world was full of dangers. But the more time passed, the more suffocating it became.

He started pulling you away from the others, cutting conversations short when you were with Tails or Amy. At first, he made excuses, "Hey, let’s get outta here! I've got something way cooler to show ya!" but you quickly realized he was isolating you.you started getting weird dreams.

You dreamed of your real home, your reality, the place you desperately wanted to return to. But every time you woke up, Sonic was already there, sitting beside you with an unreadable expression.

"Another bad dream?" he asked, his voice casual.

When you admitted what it was about, his expression darkened.

"You really wanna go back, huh?" He leaned closer, his smile strained. "I don't get it. You've got me here. What's better than that?"

The moment you realized something was deeply wrong was when you tried asking Tails about ways to return home.

Sonic snapped.

One second, he was his usual self, the next, he had grabbed your wrist, his grip too tight.

"Why do you keep talking about that?" His voice wavered, his usual confident tone slipping into something more desperate. "Aren't you happy here? With me?"

You tried to reason with him, but his grip only tightened. His eyes, usually bright and full of life, had a wildness to them.

"You belong here now" he murmured, more to himself than to you.

From then on, he never left your side. Your freedom was a distant memory. Anytime you tried sneaking off to talk to Tails, Sonic was there. If you attempted to run, he caught you within seconds, always smiling, always acting like it was a game.

"Aw, c'mon, Y/N, you know you can't outrun me."

Every time you tried to bring up leaving, his mood shifted. His smiles became forced, his voice strained.

"Look." he eventually said one night, his voice eerily soft as he trapped you in his arms. "I don't care what reality you came from. This is where you stay."

No matter how fast you tried to run, Sonic would always be faster.

And he wasn't letting you go.

Shadow:

Unlike Sonic, Shadow wasn't immediately friendly.

He kept his distance when you first arrived in the world, observing you with narrowed, calculating eyes. He didn't trust you, not at first. You were an anomaly, something that shouldn't exist in his reality.

But as time passed, Shadow became curious about you. How did you know so much about him? Why did you seem so comfortable around him when most people feared him?

You intrigued him.

Slowly, he started spending more time around you. He was never openly affectionate, but he showed his care in small ways, keeping you close when woth others, ensuring you never strayed too far, glaring at anyone who got too friendly with you.

And then, one day, you mentioned wanting to go home.

Shadow froze.

"You want to leave?" His voice was cold, unreadable.

You explained everything, the fact that he and his world were fictional in your reality, that you had a life to return to. You expected him to be logical about it.

Instead, his expression darkened.

"No."

You turned back to him. "...No?"

Shadow stepped closer, his eyes burning into yours.

"You belong here. With me."

It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

That was when your nightmare truly began.

Shadow started following you everywhere, wether you were aware or not. Always watching, always near. If you ever tried to leave his sight, he'd appear within seconds, his expression always unreadable.

He sabotaged any attempt you made to leave. If you tried to seek help from Tails or Eggman, their machines mysteriously malfunctioned. If you ran, Shadow found you instantly, his Chaos Control ensuring you never got far.

He never hurt you, but his presence was suffocating. Every conversation ended the same way.

"You can't leave."

There was no reasoning with him.

Shadow wasn't keeping you here out of malice.

He was keeping you here because, to him, you were the only thing left worth protecting.

Even if it meant stealing your freedom.

Silver:

Silver was the sweetest at first.

He was kind, gentle, and eager to help you. When you arrived in his world, he was fascinated, your knowledge, your personality, your very existence intrigued him.

And for a while, everything was perfect.

Silver went out of his way to make you comfortable, ensuring you had everything you needed. He was protective, but not overbearing, at least, not at first.

But then, you mentioned going home.

Silver's expression fell, his ears flattening. "What...? You want to leave?"

You tried to explain, but his hands trembled as he grasped your shoulders.

"You can't leave." His voice wavered, his usual optimism crumbling. "I need you here."

From that moment on, Silver changed.

He became more desperate, always clinging to you one way or another, never being more than three feet from you.

Whenever you tried to argue, he just shook his head, pleading. "Please don't talk like that. I love you, Y/N."

He would do anything to keep you.

And if that meant trapping you in his world forever...

Then so be it.

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 

You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

[justanotherpjofan]

You know most of the time people get angry at Cale because he can't for the life of him communicate things as they are, specifically regarding his health and seems to be unable to register his family worries for him.

And to that I said, of fucking course, his whole life on earth was horrible and he didn't develop emotionally because let's do a quick recap:

His parents died.

His abusive uncle took him in

He ended up in an orphanage.

When he was twenty the world collapsed.

He was bullied because he didn't have abilities.

Then the shelter he was in was destroyed

Once again he was alone until he met with LSH and CJS and let's not forget he was already 20 something.

Not long after they died as well.

Then he closed off with everyone because he didn't want to get attached just to lose them again.

He woke up in a novel

GoD confirmed he was supposed to die not CJS nor LSH.

He had to face his past again due to SG test.

...Well you get my point by now he was a little too busy surviving for him to actually develop self worth, most of his life he learned he wasn't someone who deserves affection or care and unfortunately no one said otherwise and if they did they die leaving him worse than before.

So it is no wonder he keeps things to himself all the time, after all why would others worry about him it makes no sense? At least from his pov.

That's why he is so detached at the beginning, still he can't help but try fixing things because it is the only action he knows

Surviving and saving others is so deeply engrained in him that unknowingly he keeps getting in a bigger mess. He got attached against his best efforts and gives more than he can take because he is not used to getting, the people who ever gave him anything always ended up dying before he could understand being emotional or plainly having emotions is normal.

[btsvt-bar]

crazy over you

pairing ꩜ vampire dom!seungcheol x bunny hybrid shy sub!female reader x vampire dom!jeonghan

synopsis ꩜ one night, you decide to ignore your masters’ rules and sneak out to see your friends. however, the results of being caught aren’t exactly nice.

content/genre ꩜ yandere, hybrid oc, threesome, afab!reader, smut (18+ mdni)

author's note ꩜ not proofread.

sorry if something is a bit weird! it’s my first time writing an au like this so it took me a while to get used to the characters and i also read a bit of other people’s works to try to create my own universe 🥺

comments are appreciated! lmk what you think ♡

warnings under the cut!

warnings ꩜ smut, threesome, hybrid, vampirism, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (f. receiving), dacryphilia, overstimulation, edging, pet names (hers: princess, sweetheart, baby, little bunny | his: master - seungcheol, sir - jeonghan), ears sensivity, punishment sex, yandere seungcheol and jeonghan, biting. lmk if i forgot something important.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

It was a cold November night when you first met Seungcheol and Jeonghan. You were walking home from work, all by yourself. For a few weeks, you had been having a feeling you're being followed, your bunny senses alerting you danger was near. But, every time you looked back, the streets were empty.

Initially, you thought you were being paranoid. Except you weren’t. That night, when you were hours away from your heat striking, the vampires presented themselves and offered to help you. And you, with a fuzzy mind clouded by lust, accepted their help.

They had the energy to bang you hard for as long as you needed. The next two days were dedicated to satiating all of your carnal desires. The vampire duo fucked you into unconsciousness, you slept for a few hours and woke up to do it all over again. In the few moments you weren't sleeping or getting railed, they fed and showered you. When you came back to your senses, you thought it was cute of them, and saw their actions as caring.

You started to learn more about them. Seungcheol's the oldest one, the master. He turned Jeonghan a long time ago, at his request, and they've been friends ever since. They got along really well, one being almost an extension of the other.

They were nice to you, showered you with gifts and attention. That's how they caught you in their web. You were so blinded by the things that shine, you didn't see the warning signs until it was too late. It was when you first disobeyed them that you saw them for what they are: dangerous predators.

To your shock, you found out they had been stalking you for a long time, and how deeply obsessed they were. You found a box full of objects you deemed as lost, from hair clips, to pajamas, unfinished books and even used underwear. It scared you, but it also mesmerized you in the same proportion.

Jeonghan caught you going through their—well, your—stuff and things got ugly. Him and Seungcheol punished you that night, overworking your body like never before, but not before scaring the living shit out of you. The following day, after you woke up, they acted like it never happened, except from one snarky remark from Seungcheol: "If you ever disobey us again, we won't be so forgiving".

You did your best to be a good girl, partially because you liked them and the perks of them taking care of you, partially because you were scared of what they could do. As time passed, they became increasingly more possessive. Seungcheol more than Jeonghan, and you assumed it has something to do with their creator-creature dynamic.

Seungcheol acted like he was more entitled to you. Like you were his first, and Jeonghan's second. He bossed both of you around any chance he got. The youngest vampire didn't seem to mind, unless it had to do with you. You swear you've seen him rolling his eyes when the other made some possessive remark.

Even with all the issues, you became attached. On the days they were in an exceptionally good mood, you were allowed to call them Cheol and Hannie, like they referred to the other. You tried your best to earn the right, aiming to please them as much as you could.

Now, you've been living with them for over a year. You're used to their house rules, to their moody humor.

This morning, you opened your eyes to Seungcheol waking you up for college. He allowed you to keep attending, and one of them always followed you around, hidden in the shadows. As soon as your brain started functioning again, you remembered you wanted to ask him something.

You have this friend, Minghao, who's a bunny hybrid like you. You don't have many bunny hybrid friends, your species being a rare one. Obviously, you want to be close to him. But Cheol and Hannie don't like him, and told you to stay away.

You decided to ask one more time if you could go to Minghao's birthday party. As soon as the words came out of your mouth, Seungcheol broke a mug with his bare hands.

"I told you, you can't. Don't push me, princess" he barked as he shot you a glacial look. His dark red eyes glistened with anger, so you apologized and left for college at once.

Jeonghan's the one following you around, but he usually keeps his distance. You know he's there somewhere, but you also feel like he gives you a little bit more privacy than Seungcheol does.

You try your best not to pout sadly when your friends start talking about their plans for the night.

"Why the sad face, Y/N?" Jun, a cat hybrid, asks when he notices you went quiet.

"It's sad I'm not able to go."

"Why don't you sneak out?" Minnie suggests. "We can pick you up and drop you off after."

"They'll be in the house, it's impossible." You explain, kind of wishing that Cheol and Hannie had some vampire meeting or whatever to attend to.

"It's ok, we can have lunch to celebrate tomorrow." Minghao reassures you with a kind smile and you try your best to return the gesture, but you're sure you just made a weird face.

You spot Jeonghan waiting by a tree, so you say your goodbyes and go home.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

It seemed some higher being decided to make your wish come true. A few hours later, Seungcheol told you him and Jeonghan had to go out. He didn't give a reason, and you didn't ask.

You decided to give voice to your insanity and that's the reason why you sneaked out when the clock hit 7pm. You know Seungcheol said no to your request, but you decided to ignore him and go to Minghao's birthday party anyway.

You were excited to see Minghao. He's the first bunny hybrid you're able to be friends with, and you wanted to be close to him all the time.

So, to make sure you wouldn't get caught by your vampire owners, you decided to be back by 10pm. Whenever they went out, they'd stay out until dawn. If they never caught you, you'd be fine.

Obviously, that's not what happens.

You close the window shut with a quiet thud, thinking you succeeded in your scapade. But then, much to your horror, your bedlight flickers on.

Seungcheol sports a calm expression. Which, by experience, is much worse than him looking angry. A hundred times worse. Jeonghan is nowhere to be seen, and that's also bad news.

"Had fun?" His voice comes out in a controlled tone. He stands up from the corner chair he was sitting on, and you unconsciously take a step back, hitting the closed window. "Did he enjoy seeing you?"

You stay silent, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"What's his name again?" Seungcheol muses, his head pending to the side as he analyses your outfit. You put on a cute pink dress, one that highlighted your boobs. Also, you curled your hair a bit and it looked really angelic framing your face and black bunny ears.

"I think it's Minghao." You're startled by Jeonghan's voice. He entered the room so silently, you didn't even notice him leaning against the doorframe. "He smells horrid, if you ask me".

You see Seungcheol's nose flaring a bit, his vampire sense scenting the funky smell on you from the distance. He wrinkled his nose, disgusted by it. "Did you let him touch you, princess?"

You shake your head. Minghao did try to kiss you when you bid him goodbye, but you dodged him. This voice inside your head—one you were sure wasn't actually yours—reprimanded you by saying your master would be pissed off.

"Bunny got your tongue?" Jeonghan's venous voice reaches you. "Answer us when we ask you something".

"I didn't". You answer while looking down, too scared to face them. "I just gave him a birthday hug, nothing more. I swear." Your whole body trembles so much, it's amazing how your quiet voice didn't come out shaky as well.

Seungcheol approaches you. You see his toes in front of you, and keep still, waiting for his next move. Both vampires can clearly scent your fear and Jeonghan—who's usually the cruelest one when annoyed—let's out an amused laugh.

"It's her clothes that reek" the older vampire says while looking at his friend.

"Make her take them off, then." Jeonghan suggests. "She looks better naked, anyways".

Seungcheol rips the dress off of your body and you let out a surprised squeal. The vampire discards the destroyed clothing to the side. You're trembling harder, so he pets your bunny ears to calm you down.

"Or you could do that." Jeonghan comments and licks his lips at the sight of your exposed breasts. "I think you should punish her".

Mentally, you curse Jeonghan. Him and his damned sharp tongue. You would never dare to say it out loud, but sometimes you really hated the youngest vampire in the room. Being the oldest of them, Cheol was always the one to call the shots. Although, Jeonghan usually made sure to bring his input to every situation.

"I think so too. After all, she did go against my orders, didn't she?"

You muster courage to shoot a dirty look at Jeonghan. His wicked smile gets bigger, finding your reaction amusing.

"You know what's coming, don't you princess?" Cheol pulls the waistband of your panties and let it snap back on your skin. You let out a whine that makes both vampires laugh quietly.

"I know, master." You easily fall into your submission role, feeling his power irradiating towards you. Seungcheol hums in a satisfied way.

"Get in position, sweetheart." He commands and you scramble around to lay down on your back on your shared bed. You slide your panties off, stripping completely. You spread your legs a bit, inviting Seungcheol over.

"Did you get it?" The older vampire glances at his friend. Jeonghan nods and reveals the black vibrator he’d went to fetch before your arrival.

Your pussy tingles at the sight of it, your body remembering the way the rubber toy made you feel. Some slick comes out of your cunt, and you feel uncomfortable being so exposed. You hadn’t noticed, being too scared to think of anything else, but the whole situation also got you really wet for the vampires in front of you.

Meanwhile, Cheol runs his fingers on your wet folds, and starts to finger you slowly. Wet noises fill the room, and you whimper quietly at the stimulation. He neglects your clit, making you grow frustrated. When he feels he’s stretched you out enough, he turns the vibrator on.

"You know the drill. If you cum, things will get ugly." He states as he slides the toy into you. The buzzing feels good, and you know you’re gonna have a hard time. Seungcheol replaces his hand with yours and you start moving the toy in and out of you. "Have fun, but not too much". With that, him and Jeonghan leave your shared bedroom.

You know they’ll be listening from the room next door, and you can't help but let out a few moans and whimpers. Out of all punishments they came up with, having you play with yourself while using sex toys and not being allowed to cum is the most challenging one. You had to edge yourself for the time they wanted, and if you failed to not cum, they’d be really, really, hard on you.

"Keep playing with yourself, baby" Jeonghan commands from the other room, his voice ringing in your head and reaching you in the middle of your fuzzy thoughts. You search around for the vibrator you let slip off of your hands, and place it on your clit.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you’re toeing around the edge for what it feels like the hundredth time and it’s getting harder and harder to resist your orgasm.

A few more minutes pass by and Seungcheol enters the room. Your mind is cloudy and your legs shaking uncontrollably. Your pussy feels swollen and unbearably wet. "Time’s up." He announces and you stop your ministrations on yourself.

Once again, Jeonghan’s leaning against the door frame. The youngest vampire waits for Seungcheol’s instructions.

"You did well for us, princess." Seungcheol praises you and pets your bunny ears again. You already feel spent, your eyes closing happily as he caresses your sensitive ears.

"Thank you, master".

The vampire manhandles you so you’re laying on your stomach. He puts a pillow under you for support, and now your ass is up and exposed.

"Hannie?" The oldest calls for the other. Jeonghan hums. "Do you want to go first?"

Jeonghan practically runs to you. The mattress sinks when he hops on the bed, getting closer. His cold hands grab your ass and you shiver from the temperature difference. "What do you want me to do?"

Seungcheol sits on the corner chair again, choosing to just observe for now. "Punish her any way you want".

Another shiver runs down your spine. Jeonghan is a wild card, he can do literally anything. The vampire takes his time to undress, choosing to stay with his black boxers on.

He starts by running his hand on your back, enjoying how soft and warm your skin feels. "Is my little bunny scared?" He blows the question in your year, making you shiver again. You nod in agreement.

"Don’t be. I’ll punish you, but you’ll like it." His breathy laugh makes your cheeks heat up with the memory of all punishments you enjoyed before.

He spreads your butt cheeks and licks a long stripe from your clit to your entrance, collecting your juices with his tongue. You whine loudly, already feeling so good. His hands grip you so tightly you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow, but it slips out of your mind when Jeonghan’s tongue prods at your entrance.

You clench slightly and he chuckles at the sight, loving how responsive you are. Pulling you up a bit, Jeonghan lays on the bed and positions himself on his back with his face directly under your dripping cunt.

The vampire starts to make out with your pussy, sucking and nibbling and licking at his own pace. You press yourself down on his face, trying to get as much pleasure as you could. He slips two fingers in and you mewl his name.

"Si-ir I’m re-really close" your crying out comes as a stutter, your mind barely registers what you want to say. Jeonghan knows your body well enough to edge you until you’re nearly exploding, only to pull away and leave you frustrated once again.

When he moves from his position, your body falls limp on the mattress. A desperate shriek leaves your lips, tears threatening to fall from your lust hazed eyes.

"Crying already?" Jeonghan coos in a mocking tone. "We haven’t even started yet, baby." He gives your butt a light slap and you feel the vampire move around the bed.

The buzzing of the vibrator reaches your ears again, and you try to brace yourself for what’s coming next.

Jeonghan flips you so you’re on your back again. He starts slowly, moving the toy around on your sensitive skin. He spreads your legs a bit and teases your folds, running it up and down. Then, he lightly rubs it on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. You can feel your bunny ears twitch with pleasure and Jeonghan notices too, so he reaches out and pets them in an almost loving manner.

"Sir, please" you beg him to do something, anything. You just needed him to put out the fire running through your veins.

"What do we think, Cheollie?"

Suddenly you’re reminded of the presence of the other vampire. You’ve been so consumed by Jeonghan and his ministrations that you literally forgot about him.

"She can take more." His voice is cold and uninterested.

Jeonghan’s wicked smile is painted by your juices. He looks beautiful with your slick all over his mouth and chin, and you can only think about how he’d look covered in blood.

"So come help me then" the youngest one calls. Seungcheol sighs, annoyed at his friend.

"You can never do things on your own, can you?"

You feel the power shift when the oldest vampire approaches. He exudes an energy that’s different from Jeonghan’s. It’s almost suffocating to your senses, but it also turns you on even more. You feel more slick dripping out and running down your ass, wetting the bedsheets.

"Get behind her." Seungcheol instructs and Jeonghan silently positions himself.

You shiver from the contrast of your burning back against his cold chest. The oldest sinks two fingers in and starts to stimulate you. His thumb lightly grazes against your clit, making your legs tremble each time. Jeonghan pinches your nipples and you let out a moan, clenching around Seungcheol’s fingers.

"She likes it, Hannie. Do it again" the vampire chuckles as he rubs the gummy spot inside your cunt. The youngest keeps pinching and pulling on your nipples, the slight pain making you even hornier.

The duo keeps stimulating you until you're on edge again. Pitifully, you think this time they'll let you cum. But they don't, so you cry from overstimulation once again.

"Shhh, don't cry" Seungcheol wipes your tears away and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Don't complain now. You did this to yourself when you decided to disobey me".

Your whole body tingles with desire, making you feel uncomfortable. You're slumped against Jeonghan, who's running his hands on your sides to soothe you, trying your best to calm down a little. Seungcheol kisses your neck, holding himself back from biting you.

"How do you want her?" Cheol directs his gaze to his friend. Their wine red orbs meet.

"Actually, I wanna watch you two" the youngest flashes a lazy smile.

Seungcheol chuckles, amused by his friend's voyeur nature. "As you wish".

Jeonghan goes to the corner chair and the other vampire takes over. With ease, he folds your legs to your chest and enters you without warning. He slides in easily, his girth stretching your inner walls to a point it burned. But you love every second of the tortuous sliding.

Seungcheol picks up his pace, ramming you fast and hard. The slight pain quickly turns to pleasure, and in no time you're whimpering and crying again. You look to your left and see Jeonghan masturbating, his sleek fingers moving at an inhuman speed.

The youngest's voice rings in your head, commanding you to run your nails on Seungcheol's back. You follow promptly, making the vampire hiss on your ear. Your hands travel down his back and grab his butt. Your nails leave crescent marks on his skin.

Cheol changes his angle a bit and now his pelvic bone hits your clit every time he pushes in. For the hundredth time of the day, you hang on the edge of reaching your high. But you aren't allowed to let go yet.

"Ask him to bite you" that voice you don't recognize as yours whispers. You panic a little, because they never bit you before. However, the idea seems appealing.

"Cheol" your voice comes out hoarse from all the moaning.

"What is it, princess? Are you ready to beg for your release?"

"Bite me, please."

Your words shock him a bit, making his pace falter. You hear Jeonghan cursing with a small laugh.

"Ask again" the voice commands and you obey.

Seungcheol licks your neck, just above your pulsing vein. He allows his fangs to come out and sink them on your skin. It stings, and your body involuntarily shakes and tries to escape. But he's experienced and knows how to lock you in place. He starts to suck on your neck, gulping large amounts of your sweet blood. Meanwhile, his hips keep fucking you, now in a slow, sensual pace.

You didn't think it would be possible, but his actions make everything more erotic. You start to take pleasure from being fed on. He pulls away, some blood smeared on his mouth and chin.

"Come over, Hannie" he calls the other vampire and Jeonghan appears by your side with a blink of an eye.

Jeonghan sucks harshly, drawing more blood out of you. He groans and trembles, feeling a rush of energy given by your blood. After taking another sip, he pulls away and licks your neck to heal you.

The man’s lips are tinted with a copperish red, making him look dangerous. Both his and Seungcheol’s eye glisten, the fresh blood in their veins accenting their red irises.

Reaching out, Jeonghan plays with your clit. "You can cum now, sweetheart" his smile looks devilish tainted with blood.

"Go ahead, princess" Seungcheol also gives you permission. Almost instantly, you let go. Your body shakes and trembles, your mind being lifted from your body. You cum so hard, you nearly pass out. You only see white behind your eyelids, and your blood pressure drops to the ground.

It takes a while for you to get back. When you regain a little of your senses, you feel both your vampires shoot their hot cum on your belly. They’re grunting, finishing themselves off before lying down on your side.

You don’t know how many minutes have passed by before Jeonghan gets up. You hear him turning on the faucet and the water running. He enters the room and picks you up, being careful not to spill all the spunk that’s resting on your belly. The vampire wipes it off before placing you on the bathtub.

The water feels nice against your sore muscles, and you relax against the border. You wait for Seungcheol to appear, but the water goes cold and you decide it’s better to get off.

Jeonghan carries you back to your shared bedroom. The oldest vampire is there, looking fresh out of the shower, so you assume he used the bathroom down the hallway.

You crawl to the middle of the bed, waiting for him to allow you to cuddle him.

"Come here, princess" he calls and you practically jump him. Jeonghan joins you both, and the three of you cuddle.

"You better obey us next time" Seungcheol’s voice comes out venomous, even while he pets your ears. "We won’t be so forgiving".

"Yes, master".

You didn’t know then, but Seungcheol asserted his dominance over you even more when he bit you.

"Sleep well, little bunny" Jeonghan presses a kiss to your forehead and you feel your eyelids heavy.

Like every night, the vampires stay awake, watching you sleep.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

[elysiae]

do you think operator & drifter treat their warframes wildly differently?

somewhat insufficient TLDR: i think the operator and drifter are emotionally attached but in vastly, strikingly different ways, and it manifested very, very differently too.

in operator's case, it isn't that they dont *care*, but they know how durable a warframe is. they know they can take one hell of a hit, and they'll be okay because that warframe takes the brunt of it (albeit with some phantom pain if the damage is bad enough). theyre less comfortable outside the confines of those large, bulky war machines because they know they're ultimately safe. those warframes can take hits. they cannot. the operator knows they were people, but they never met those people before the tragedy. besides... a lot of them really are just empty shells. they're hardly the people they once were, especially since they recreated those warframes from blueprints. don't get me wrong, they do remember the anguish of the originals - they were there, they lived it, and they still have empathy for them... but the operator knows the limits of every warframe like the back of their hand - they can maneuver however they want, they can take hits, they can run into armies and not be too afraid because they (as in the operator and the warframe this time) be fine. even if the warframe is damaged, they can fix the damage, so no harm done.

but drifter on the other hand? at first i think they never really realised the power they had. in their mind they were still them, just running, rolling on the occasion, it took them ages to maneuver those things *properly*, and probably only ever really learned with the operator's guidance. they would not let a warframe take a hit, not because they felt empathy for it (at least not a lot, last i checked you kind of need at least *some* to have effective transference?) but because they were so used to walking around vulnerable. yknow, not inside a killing machine. but what would've really solidified the difference was after they went to 1999. sure, hearing that these things used to be people is one thing, but at the end of the day, to drifter, they're still just machines. drifter never got to experience what the tenno did, they never had to deal with reaching into their freshly scarred minds to ease their anger, sorrow, fear, rein them in like the terrified animals they were turning into and hush their cries with understanding - they only knew the dead inside remnants... but it's an entirely other thing when you go to the past and see the people who were hurt. you meet them and you get to know them, become their best friends - maybe even date one of them - and it hit drifter like a fuckin' freight train. they have this entirely different view on warframes from that cold perspective they had at first. they weren't just war machines. those are people. every time they go into the head of those machines, they're looking through the eyes of *people.* people who had families and desires and hobbies, things they looked forward to, entire futures ahead of them that were snuffed out. people who were scared, people who didn't know what was happening. people who knew what was happening, who lived in fear knowing they weren't able to stop it... people who lived in fear of losing themselves. and i think it hit drifter a lot harder than they'd ever admit.

but thats not to say one of them is more attached than the other - both of them care deeply about their warframes. it's just that, they have different ways of looking at them. after all their experiences were so vastly different, it'd be impossible to look at them the same way.

(too lazy to type it out all over, but i have an example in the tags i think kinda helps pull it together more)

[fanged-fanfics]

Creatures Commandos platonic request, can you do Dr. Phosphorus x Child! Venom Reader (the only difference between them and OG Venom is that they can withstand extreme heat.), I need this radioactive skeleton man to be a dad again.

Y/N was abandoned by their family as a toddler, which gave them extreme abandonment issues, they get attached to Phosphorus and he lets them because they can touch him and he misses being a dad. You cannot tell me that he DOESN’T miss being a dad.

☆ Of Flames And Little Flickers — Dr. Phosphorus & Venom!GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Pokolistan wasn't exactly the worst place to bring a kid, most figured. But most people weren't on a mission to keep an insane purple villainess from tearing up the local government. Phosphorus didn't exactly find the idea of you tagging along to be a fond one— he loved having you around, but this could easily become an assassination mission at the flip of a dime. Considering what you had to go through before, he didn't wanna risk you getting any more hurt. But your abilities were deemed too valuable to go without, so there you were, traveling locked up in the same car with the rest of the monsters.

The long plane trip gave you jetlag more than anything, and you didn't manage to get good sleep after being dragged out so early to get on the flight. After Phosphorus forcefully positioned Weasel to the other side of the car, he made sure you could sit beside him. You were in a staring contest with GI Robot before Phosphorus gently nudged you, pointing out to the window behind his head. "See all that, kid? It's riding on your slimy little shoulders to keep all that from blowing up" he said. He made a motion with his hands to mimic a combustion, flaring a little brighter as he made the sound effect himself. You laughed at the display, and he chuckled while rubbing the top of your head.

"Not too worn out, yeah? We got a big day protecting this princess" he asked you. You shook your head "Nuh-uh. It's just... early". "Well, it's midday by now, kid, a little too late for 'early'" Phosphorus responded back. You groaned, sitting back in your seat "Why did it feel like we got dragged out so soon?" You complained. "Timezones, bud" Phosphorus said "Had to get up early to be here on time. It's a whole new country". You paused, soaking in the reminder of the unfamiliar landscape. You scooted closer to him, grabbing hold of his sleeve. Phosphorus wrapped his arm around you in return. Jeez, it'd been 15 years since he was able to have this. Someone who could stand to be near him, and who actually trusted him enough to lean on.

"You getting tired there, little hellraiser?" He asked, seeing you beginning to nod off. You stubbornly shook your head, mumbling in protest. He chuckled once more, pulling you up close to his side. To the average person, it was deeply scalding and searing to the touch. But to you, it was like being pressed against the warmest heater that could ever be offered. Your wide eyes slowly fall shut, feeling the comforting repetitive motion of Phosphorus petting your back to soothe you. Your head falls onto his form, using him as a foundation to lean on. He'd been that ever since you arrived, really. Support, stability, a shoulder or hand to reach out to. A jaded and crude support beam at times, sure, but he did his best to conduct himself at least a little bit around you.

While you slowly drifted to sleep, Phosphorus kept his gaze on you, seeing how you were able to relax against him. It was a familiar sight, one that made what was left of his heart ache. He looked up, seeing Bride not far at all taking note of it as well. He held a finger over where his mouth used to be to signify quiet. The stitched lady gave a sigh that showed she wasn't very impressed but, well, when was she ever? Phosphorus moved his coat to wrap it around your shoulders for extra protection, using a hand to shield you from the sun. He gently pet your back a bit more before simply keeping his gaze looking around for you both. No one could tell except for Phosphorus himself, but this time, he really was smiling.

[dragonsoulage]

Fighting with his beloved nurse...

feat. Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu is not used to people that like him and that are concerned for him. He does not even understand why you were angry when he got hurt a little too bad for your taste. Afraid he would need to split apart from his favourite nurse. So you two ended up arguing

Hello world I am still sick but I wrote a little Giyuu stuff here. Idk why I feel like he always would think he is not good enough, poor boy so we need to show him that he is precious ✨ anyways I still suck in proof reading but have fun. That's just the first time I wrote something for Demon Slayer 💖

Wordcount: 2,0 k

Warnings: fluff, fighting, a little suggestive in the end

The situation was kinda frustrating. He just came back from a mission a few days ago.

You were a nurse around from the butterfly estate. Stunning, gorgeous, breathtaking...all these words that popped in Giyuus head when you appeared in his sight. But not only that, you were indeed a kind soul. Always gifting him with the sweetest smiles of all when he returned.

Slowly over the years you build a connection with him. He was a cold man, not really social, so it was not that easy. But you were kind from the bottom of your heart. Not even could harm a fly.

Patients you card for all said the same, you were an angel walking on earth.

But even angels can be mad, right?

You and Giyuu, never really named what this was between you two.

All you knew was that when he came back from a mission, and you saw him, you came walking toward him in a quick pace. Hugging him so tight to make sure he was really there. And Giyuu? He always breathed in your scent. One hand on your face needing to look in the depth of your orbs to make sure, you were there and wouldn't leave, like everyone else.

He grew attached, more than that he loved you. He cared deeply, and yet saying it out loud felt so dangerous.

That poor boy was afraid you would slip away when he wasn't careful enough. Although you would never fade, for what reason?

He may be quiet, but he listened to you, he loved when you were yapping around. Or even the deep talk you two had sometimes in the middle of the night, when you slipped into his room after your late night shift was done.   

But right now? Oh, you were mad. And why? He did his job, as a Hashira eliminated a demon.

But when he had been coming back it was so close that he could've died, you were freaking out...because you were afraid. "Don't act like that would've been nothing. Look at you." you scolded him, as he stood in front of you. You looked everywhere except his eyes.

"I did my job, you are fully aware that I am a demon slayer, what is the trouble. That's not the first time I come back and not be unharmed." he asked, his voice sounded nonchalant.

He wasn't sure how to respond to your subtle anger, especially not when he was wounded.

Probably he didn't even understand the fact that you liked him so much, that you were actually worried. You sighted trying to make the bandage sit a little better.

"Are you mad?" he asked you then, he sat there shirtless as you personally took care of his wounds. Just a little more to the left and his wound would have been critical. You didn't just see Giyyu as a demon slayer or Hashira anymore. You were afraid that someday, he wouldn't come back. Furthermore, you never doubted his talent, but you were worried.

"Do I look happy?" you asked him back, shortly narrowing your eyes. Now he sighted, he thought he did something wrong. Disappointing? Fighting not hard enough? Being not good enough because he was harmed?

These were his thoughts, although it was quite the opposite.

"You don't." he replied curtly, with a heavy voice, his head was making scenarios.

"Right I am not, when that demon would have hit you just a little more left....you would have been dangerously wounded." you meant while you reached around his torso for the bandage. 

  "I endured worse things. I don't understand why you are making a fuss." probably this was not the answer you wanted to hear. Or that anyone want to hear. You loved him, cared so deep for him. It was not a fuss, at least not for you. You saw a lot of demon slayers die in your job, and you didn't want to have him on the list. You were done with the bandage and looked at him, sad eyes coupled with angry ones.

"A fuss? Is that what you think I do when you get back?" You asked him, your voice carried a hint of annoyance. Both of you kinda talking, not straight to the topic. You were worried, and he thought he was not good enough.

"(Y/N)...you patch me up. You come looking for me, I don't mean that you don't do your duty as nurse I..." Giyuu was lost for words. Well, what happened when he came back?

Yeah, it was you, you took your sweet time patching him up carefully. Listened to his dangerous adventure and after that? Showering him with praise and kisses, just to see how badly wounded he is and when it was not, that exhausting, you gifted him with passionate nights.

He grew accustomed to this routine, always wanting to be good for you. Not a lot of people liked him or took even interest in him. Not at all. He was just so afraid he would lose you, before he had the chance to acknowledge his feelings.

"We both know I do more than that...it's not what I meant." you said, and you were done patching him up at least as good as it could get now, because after this he stood up, ignored the pain in his ribs just to take his haori and put it on.

Giyuus face had a slight scowl in his brows, his black long ponytail just slightly disheveled from the journey back and the exhaustion. The bandage around his lower torso, his strong chest showing off even when the haori was already over his shoulders. He made his way to the door.

"I know that we...we are having a thing. That you do more than every other nurse in this estate would do. I just don't understand what is different now then before...." maybe he even mumbled that to himself. With a sigh he opened the door ready to go outside, he was not good dealing with arguments. Not that he couldn't say anything, but with you, it was different. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. He couldn't even bear the face you made. This was when it hit you, he was not going because he was angry too, he was going because he was afraid he fucked up and didn't even know why. Your steps then went fast over to him, and you grabbed the door with your hand before you stopped him from leaving. Gently closing it. "What do you think will happen when we fight, Tomioka?" you asked him, clearly a whole different topic than before. You looked a little strict but your features softer now.   

  Should he be honest? That he was simply afraid he did something truly wrong and lost you? Well, this was at least what he was thinking. Losing that pretty nurse, that made him feel...loved.

"We split, isn't it like that? Not that it would be a surprise." he spoke then, looking everywhere, but not in your face.

"Look at me, when you talk to me. I taught you manners." you meant, it was sounding a little sharp but with that edge...you were softer now. You saw what his problem had been, he didn't got the fact that you were concerned for him, afraid he could die. You liked him too...maybe even more than like. Then Giyuu looked up, poor boy, he was so distance and cold until he met you. He loved your warmth, the way you made him feel prickly in his chest. The way you smiled, the way you brushed strands of his raven hair out of his face. The way your waist felt in his hands, when he pulled you close. The way you smelled when he nuzzled his face in your neck.

"Giyuu..." you started and used his first name, your sweet voice filled with a little regret that you didn't see it that he was insecure, afraid to even.

"Just because I am mad don't mean we split... I am sorry when I made you feel unwanted. It was not-" before you could even finish, he stepped closer, his one hand reaching out cupping your cheek. It was even enough for him to hear that you don't split. You were his only person he wanted to have close now, where he allowed himself to be close.

"You didn't make me feel unwanted. It was just...the way you scolded me, making me...fear I did something that upset you so much you would change your mind about me." he said to you, his voice was now lower. "And I don't want to upset you. I just can't change the fact that fighting demons is my job, and apparently I am quite good at it." he added.

You laid your hand over his. It was a tender gesture. Nearly like all the tension flew away suddenly.   

  "I was just afraid... I don't want to lose you. You know? I see demon slayers die every day... I like you, you know. You don't complain about my yapping, the way you hold me close. I like all these things, and I was just concerned. Sorry that it overwhelm me and that I was being too hard to you." alone the fact that you apologized because you maybe reacted a little over in such a moment. The fact you spoke out you didn't want to lose him, that you liked him. Giyuu was anything than good at expressing his feelings. He pulled you just a little closer to give you such a loving kiss on your forehead. Before his forehead rested against yours. He took a deep breath.

"Actually (Y/N), I like you more than just...like. That is why I fear you wouldn't keep me around when I wasn't good enough." it was a little plain, not the passionate confessing others dreamed off. But it was his confession. The way he told you he loved you.

"You are a Hashira, you are one of the best, the best. My best." you answered him before you then reached out and placed a kiss on his lips. It was sweet at first, all the feeling you two had poured into this kiss. All at once. Then your hands slid up his bare chest. You felt his muscles tensing slightly, the way he shivered when your cold fingertips went over his skin. Before you laid your hands around the back of his neck.

"So we are going back to the usual routine when you patch me up?" he then asked, with flushed cheeks his one hand had grabbed gently your waist pulling you closer. He was still injured, and in pain, at least with certain movements. He just spoke in between the kiss, loving the way your lips felt against his.

"Depends on how much are you hurt?" you asked in between before gently guiding him back to the bed for patients. Where he sat down. Looking up at you with such ocean eyes. It was always so cute when he blushed because he was excited. "Not that much...you could be on top." He suggested with a tone kinda desperate for you. He would lie when he said he wouldn't love the fact that after you patched him up that you gave him such a delightful treatment. You guided him to lay down and straddled his lap, your cute nurse skirt rising up a little, and his hands went to the new exposed creamy skin he found. Rough hands caressing you. You then tilted your head just a little. Maybe one round he could take before he really should rest. "Oh, is that so? Not so much? Well while I will try to make you feel better, you can just continue to tell me how much you like me, that's a deal right?" Your voice was sweet when you said that, the whole argument forgotten, but of course not the fact that he admitted he liked you more than just a bit. And you would use this now to your advantage and gifting him with his beloved patching up routine...  

[exorcqism]

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ hcs with ghostface!choso in an arranged marriage + mini scenario attached.

␥ tags. modern/horror AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, blood, threatening. choso carries a knife as a comfort item. wc, 1.37K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. so i combined my previous idea with a new one. i’ll eventually break them up so they’ll be two separate things. thank you @hwoarangs-gf for helping :D

﹅˚ ⸝⸝ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 ‧₊˚

your husband isn’t the sweetest guy around. to you or the people in public

he emphasizes that you’re only his and that since the two of you are bound together, there’s no backing out

he doesn’t talk a lot so when he does, his deep, soothing voice terrifies you and he laughs at you when you look like you’re about to shit yourself

very protective of you even though he seems pretty mean

tags. mean!choso, ghostface, arranged marriage

you couldn't exactly place your finger on how you got yourself into this situation. your wedding night was amazing and terrible at the same time. though, you weren't expecting to be marrying an infamous killer.

as your married life progresses, you start to notice your husband's behavior more closely. you realize that he can be quite rude to you and others without showing any remorse. it's especially noticeable when you go out in public together. he seems to be on high alert, constantly scanning the area and shooting hard glares at any man who shows even the slightest interest in you. at first, you find his possessiveness endearing, but as time goes on, it becomes suffocating. you feel like you're being watched all the time, and it's exhausting. eventually, it all comes crashing down, and you start to see his behavior in a different light.

"if he looked at you one more time, i swear i was gonna kill him." you hear choso growl under his breath, his grip tightening on your wrist as he hauls you out of the mall. the menacing tone of your husband's voice is unmistakable, sending a shiver down your spine. you could feel the tension radiating off of him, his anger palpable.

choso's possessiveness is on full display, and you know better than to question him in moments like these. as the both of you exit the mall, you can't help but wonder if you'll understand the man you were married to. the man who is both your protector and captor, all in one.

as you walked out of the mall, you couldn't help but notice how possessive choso was being. his behavior was a clear indication that he did not want anyone else to come near you, and you knew better than to challenge him during such moments. his grip on your hand was tight, and you could feel him pulling you closer to him as if he was trying to shield you from the world.

despite being married to him, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever understand choso. he was a complex man- your protector and captor all at once. you knew he loved you deeply, but his overprotective nature made you feel suffocated at times. you wondered if there was a way to make him understand that you needed your freedom too.

as you walked beside him, lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if you would ever find a way to strike a balance in your relationship.

as you step through the front door of your home, choso immediately locks it behind you, securing the deadbolt with an audible click. the tension that's been building throughout the day hangs heavy in the air, making the silence between you both almost unbearable. choso drops your hand, stalking off to the living room without a word.

you stood there for a moment, hesitant, before following him. when you enter the room, you find choso staring out the window, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable.

after a long pause, you finally ask choso, "what did I do wrong?" your tone is slightly irritated and confused, as you try to understand why he appears so distant and cold. choso slowly turns to face you, his eyes fixed on yours. the air between you two is heavy as you wait for his response, wondering what could have caused this sudden change in his behavior.

"you didn't do anything wrong." he says, his voice low and emotionless. "but you need to understand that you're mine. no one else's. and i'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine." his words are chilling, but there's something in his tone that makes your heart twist- a hint of vulnerability, a glimmer of the man he might be underneath the hardened exterior.

you take a deep breath, mustering up the courage to speak. "i'm yours, choso. but i'm not a possession. i'm your wife." your words hang in the air between the two of you, the silence deafening.

the tension between you remains, but choso's expression softens slightly, as if he's contemplating your words. he looks away, the silence stretching on for what feels like an eternity. finally, he speaks, his voice softer than before. "you're right," he trails off, unable to finish the sentence. his vulnerability is unexpected, and it takes you by surprise. you hesitate, unsure of how to respond, but you could feel your own walls lowering, the slightest bit of empathy creeping in.

the dynamic between you and choso is complicated, nuanced, and layered. it's clear that choso's possessiveness stems from something but you're not sure exactly what that source may be. after the confrontation, choso suddenly stalks off to his study, leaving you alone in the living room.

choso is deep in thought, poring over old books in his study when he hears a soft knock on the door. before he can respond, the door creaks open and you peer your head in, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "i know you're busy," you say, your voice light and teasing, "but i thought you might need a little bit of a distraction."

you enter the room, twirling a loose lock of hair around your finger. you knew what you were doing. choso's brow furrows, unsure of how to react to this unexpected change in your demeanor.

as he asks, "what are you doing?", his voice sounds tense and brusque. however, your smile only grows wider in response, indicating that you are either unfazed by his tone or perhaps even delighted by his attention.

"just trying to lighten up the mood a little," you say, taking a step closer to him. "don't you think we could both use a little fun?"

just as you step closer, your playful expression falters as you spot the ominous items on choso's desk- a large knife gleaming in the dim light, its blade stained with what appears to be blood, and the haunting ghostface mask, its empty gaze staring back at you.

you feel a bit of fear seeping into your veins, replacing the lightheartedness from moments ago. "what's this?" you ask, your voice filled with curiosity now as you point to the objects.

choso's demeanor shifts, his gaze turning icy. "it's none of your business." he snaps, quickly covering the knife and mask with a stack of papers. "you shouldn't have come in here in the first place."

he rises up from his chair, his towering figure casting a shadow over you. "you saw too much." he says, a menacing edge to his voice. your eyes widen at the gravity of the situation. you stand there pleading for your life but choso's expression remains cold, his eyes fixed on yours. "i'm sorry, but i can't take the risk of you telling anyone."

choso takes a step towards you, his intentions clear. you let out a blood-curdling scream as you dart toward the door. your husband lunges after you, his knife glinting in the dim light.

your eyes snap open when you hear a familiar voice calling your name. quickly, your head shoots up from the man's lap you had been lying on. your eyes travel over to the tv when you notice that the classic slasher movie, "scream", just ended. only the credits are being shown on the screen.

as you sit up, choso looks at you with concern. "you okay? you look stressed and you were mumbling in your sleep," he says, his voice softer than usual. you quickly compose yourself, hoping to hide your unease.

"i'm fine, just a weird dream, you know?" you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. choso studies you for a moment, his expression just as unreadable as it was in your dream. "do you wanna talk about it?" he queries. you swiftly shake your head, not wanting to reveal anything.

"no, it's okay. really."

choso seems to accept your answer, though there's a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "alright," he says, "but know that i'm always here if you need me.'

he smiles softly, but you feel uneasy as your stomach starts to churn. the smile seems menacing, and you nod slowly to acknowledge him.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[tab00-t33f]

Would be so awesome if you make a headcanons or a mini sceneario ( separate for each character. you chose!) of Reader making accessories and creative gifts for bucci gang + Trish and how they react and feel about it! Only if you want also I just want to tell you that I love your writing! :3

Bucci Gang Handmade Gift Reactions!

Absolutely! Here are some scenarios for the whole bucci gang + trish reacting to handmade accessories from the reader!! Definitely had to include everyone 😭 I’d feel bad leaving anyone out! <3 thanks for the ask! 🌈🦴

Trish Una

Trish loves accessories and admires your creativity. She’s especially impressed if the gift matches her aesthetic.

Scenario:

You give her a pair of earrings inspired by Spice Girl—pink and glittery with subtle soft-textured patterns. She gasps in delight, immediately trying them on.

“They’re perfect! How did you know exactly what I’d love?” She flaunts them everywhere, telling people about your craftsmanship. She might even ask you to collaborate on more designs for her wardrobe.

Bruno Bucciarati

Bruno values meaningful gestures and can tell when something is made with care. He cherishes the thoughtfulness behind your gift as much as the item itself.

Scenario:

You hand him a bracelet made of blue beads interspersed with tiny golden zippers. He immediately smiles, running his fingers over the details.

“Did you make this?” he asks, his voice soft with admiration. When you confirm, he places it on his wrist and promises never to take it off. Every time someone comments on it, he proudly says, “A dear friend made it for me.”

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia loves anything personalized. He’s a bit rough with his belongings, so he treasures handmade gifts even more, knowing you took the time to think of him.

Scenario:

You give him a keychain of his Stand, Aerosmith, crafted out of resin and painted with incredible detail. His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“This is so cool! You made this?!” He runs around showing everyone. “Look at this—look! I’ve got the coolest keychain ever!” He attaches it to his bag immediately and refuses to use any other keychain again.

Guido Mista

Mista appreciates fun, quirky gifts. He loves wearing something that stands out, especially if it’s from you.

Scenario:

You present him with a handmade bandana featuring designs of tiny pistols and bullets stitched along the edges. He grins ear to ear.

“This is awesome! Way better than the ones I buy.” He ties it around his head and strikes a pose. “How do I look? Be honest. Actually, don’t—I know I look amazing.” He wears it almost daily, rotating it with his other accessories but making sure everyone knows which one you made.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio is initially stoic, but he secretly values sentimental gestures. He might not show it outwardly, but he keeps your gift close.

Scenario:

You give him a leather bracelet engraved with small clock hands to represent Moody Blues. He accepts it with a quiet “Thanks,” but later you catch him looking at it when he thinks no one’s watching.

Over time, he’ll wear it more openly, even if he never directly comments on it. However, the way he keeps adjusting it on his wrist when you’re around speaks volumes.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno deeply appreciates creativity and thoughtfulness. He admires your talent and often gets inspired by your attention to detail.

Scenario:

You give Giorno a lapel pin shaped like a golden rose with green accents. He studies it intently before pinning it to his jacket.

“This is exquisite,” he says, his tone sincere. “You’re incredibly talented. Thank you for this.” He wears it during important missions and meetings, saying it brings him luck.

Fugo Pannacotta

Fugo is surprised by the gesture but deeply touched. He struggles to show his gratitude openly but treasures your gift privately.

Scenario:

You present him with a tie clip shaped like his Stand, Purple Haze, with tiny purple accents. His first reaction is a shocked, “You made this? For me?”

He hesitates, then mutters a quiet “Thanks” with a small smile. Later, you’ll notice him wearing it during formal occasions, straightening it nervously but with pride.

Bonus (Group Reaction):

When the gang realizes you’ve been making gifts for all of them, they tease each other over whose gift is the best. They eventually gang up on you, begging for more personalized creations. Trish might even suggest you start a side business. It becomes a bonding experience for everyone, making you an even more integral part of the group.

[r--kt]

Where actually was this betrayal line for Obito that Kakashi had crossed?

about the whole "anyone got Kakashi, but not Obito" thing that @komihoyinsblog said. I remembered where the culmination of this theme was. no, like, this whole topic is real!

let's talk about the scene after when Jubito was defeated. here I will analyse kkobkk relationships and Obito's arc specifically.

contents | context · meaning of the scene · where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

CH. 655

Context

during the battle with the shinobi alliance, Obito came face to face with a deeply repressed desire for another life, which he did not realize due to his position as the only one who can fulfill the tsukuyomi plan. the battle itself as well as the conversation with Naruto reminds Obito of the aspirations and values dear to him that he had to sacrifice. all this has noticeably hit Obito and now he is disarmed and stripped of his armor, which is metaphorically reflected in his half-naked body (and cuz fans love men's boobs).

CH. 652. god, look how happy he is, I'm sobbing. love the way he never regrets about his scars, they're with him even in his imagination, that's a reminder of his core values.

structurally, in Obito's arc, this scene is the Collapse point and the end of the second act. here, the previous methods (the tsukuyomi plan) have shown their inconsistency, and the goal (peace for everyone and for him, too) has not been achieved, and he must find a new way to achieve this goal. at the beginning of the scene, he is confused, defeated and not ready to face the consequences.

why isn't he ready? he's lying there, seemingly resigned. yeah, not exactly. here, he accepted the impending death, and it's even not bad to die by Kakashi's hand to some extent. another question is, is he ready to talk to him, is he ready to accept the defeat and find the strength to continue the journey?

Meaning of the scene

once again, it is important that the battle with the alliance and the conversation with Naruto influenced Obito, but did not convince him. it was Kakashi who did it.

in fact, this conversation with Kakashi is a crucial reason for Obito to return to his ideals. before that, he was in doubt (the second act is a reflection of the character, as if hesitating from one side to the other), and after that he takes the side of the alliance. what did Kakashi say that made Obito come back?

three questions Obito is asking.

how can you be sure that Naruto won't fail on his way, unlike me? [pic 2, above]

why are you so attached to Naruto, what's the difference between him and me? [pic below]

why are you willing to help him (and not me)? [pic below]

they don't talk about different paths here. Kakashi emphasizes that Obito's path is not exactly wrong, so that's not the deal. it's about Obito and Naruto as people, and, more, about Kakashi's opinion on Obito.

finding out why he is not the one whose path Kakashi is ready to defend is essential for Obito. he wants to understand why Naruto (aka Obito's previous self, too) is closer to him, why Kakashi does not support the actual one for whom he grieved so much. why, even recognizing the possible correctness of tsukuyomi, Kakashi refuses to support Obito in this, prefers to go the same way. and also look at how damn emotional he is at this moment, his feelings go from anger to anxiety in a couple of frames. that's what happened when the central conflict "I'm never good enough to be loved" is raised.

Obito's questions are a subconscious appeal to Kakashi — "why don't you choose me? I could make you happy. what's wrong with me again?!" he thinks that the reason Kakashi doesn't take his side is not because of the correctness of his path, but because of Obito himself. subconsciously, he thinks that it's because of Kakashi's personal dislike of this "new" Obito, and he is very afraid of this might be true. just look at his face at the bottom of the page, he's really worried about hearing Kakashi's answer. oh, and it's actually the same meaning as "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different" [ Jinx's quote from Arcane, yes, I like to compare these two sometimes ].

what Kakashi says in this situation means "let me help you." Kakashi said he would be ready to help Obito if he let him in, if he allowed him. this is literally the only condition (which is important to mention here) under which Obito did not pass, because of his desire to reject Kakashi's help, believing that he must put his life on tsukuyomi plan and cut off all ties. but this does not mean that he wanted Kakashi to cut off this tie in return.

Obito was an individualist, and he only scoffed or got angry at Kakashi's offer to help/sympathize. now they're in a situation when Obito finally hear that Kakashi said "you've made mistakes, but that's okay. I can be with you, if you need me to, and I'm okay with you continuing your life and reaching peace. I accept you and I believe in you." and I want you to appreciate that this is the tipping point of Obito's arc.

so, that's why Obito changes his way of acting. Kakashi shows that he accepts Obito the way he is, and thus significantly reduces Obito's need to prove his worth through his own hardships and overcoming difficulties. yes, Kakashi had already said similar things before, and it didn't work, but here this line is resolved precisely because of this deep conversation they had.

Where's a mistake and where's a betrayal

oh, maybe Rin's death was a thing Obito considered a betrayal from Kakashi's part? everything's much less trivial. would he offer to help Kakashi if he thought he was a traitor? and well, he offered.

CH. 630

no, look at his face on the bottom right, why would you say that with such a gentle face to someone you consider a traitor? what is it, a genuine smile? so something happened besides that.

the betrayal was that Kakashi preferred his other ties to the connection with Obito. here, betrayal is not about killing Rin, and not about breaking a promise — all these are mistakes that Obito is able to forgive.

all the moments when Obito says something like "you had the opportunity to kill me, but you didn't do it", "you can't deal with me because of guilt?", "still blaming yourself for the broken promises?" - all this is an attempt to increase his own value, to show the importance of Obito for Kakashi. and it's also a projection. Obito says, "you had so many opportunities to kill me, but you..." although he does the same. like, why would he leave Kakashi alive after the kamui battle? intentionally inflict a non-fatal wound on him and leave him in a dimension that only he and Obito have access to? "I don't care if he's alive or dead," but at every opportunity he chose the option "alive", even if it's less profitable for him. my baby loves to deceive himself so much.

all this time, Obito believed that he was striving for their common dream, and therefore the condemnation from Kakashi (there should be a couple more frames from the manga) feels like the most painful blow for him, especially when Kakashi says that Rin would not want it either. before that, Obito had compared himself and Kakashi a couple of times, put them on an equal footing, and after being rejected by him, that's where Obito feels really lonely.

the point of no return was precisely the fact that Kakashi shows with his own words that he does not accept the current Obito and everything he's been striving for years. all this, taken together, he considered a betrayal, as if he's not enough, as if he fucked everything up again.

therefore, their conflict is resolved by the acceptance of one person by another, this is in fact exactly what Obito's heart wanted — to hear that he could be accepted after all that had happened. the same thing happened after his death, when he finally met Rin, by the way.

hope the text is not that messy. oh, and! that kkob video I've made with mitski's song. this fits the topic so well. love these guys

[gay-dorito-dust]

HII!! CAN U DO A PAVITR PRABHAKAR X READER WHERE THEY SHARE THEIR FIRST KISS (OR READERS FIRST KISS, WHATEVER YOU WANT!!!) AKISISSJSJ IDK WHAT TO REQUEST CAUSE ITS MY FIRST REQUEST LMFAO - 🧑🏽‍🔧

I hope this wasn’t absolute arse as I started like some of this late in the night so there are probs inconsistencies.

‘It’s so obvious that they like each other but due to their assumptions that the other will reject them, they look for the same love in other people, only to be drawn back together because there’s no one who could love them quite like them.’ Pavitr said from your side as you both were indulging in some much needed free time by catching up on episodes of a recent show that you’ve missed. It was a great way to pass the time when nothing else of interest seemed to entice you, plus it was made even better when you got to spend it with Pavitr and his commentary regarding the love interests that you’ve grown to find endearing overtime.

‘We’ve seen this trope happen so many times in the other shows we’ve watched before this.’ You replied, looking over at him, knowing wholeheartedly that you’ve just provoked the preverbal bear, but that didn’t matter as to hear Pavitr speak passionately about something he felt so deeply made you admire him in ways you didn’t know you could.

‘It’s a fail proof formula that wins out every time!’ Pavitr exclaims before sighing dreamily as his mind began to wander amidst his many thoughts, ‘besides who doesn’t want to experience a love like that? a love that your willing to go through trial and tribulation for because you could never truly give your heart to someone else when they had their name carved into the very essence of your being by just smiling, by just being unapologetically them in all their flaws.’ Pavitr stopped midway through his speech to smile softly to himself when imagines of you popped in the forefront of his mind, it made him feel nostalgic and in a way it made him miss your presence despite you being right next to him.

Pavitr was a romantic at heart and so too did he naturally speak from it also, but due to the fact that you were just really good friends made him a little hesitant in pursuing you under the pretences that you didn’t feel the same way that he had for while now. Pavitr knew he couldn’t control his heart the moment it began picking up it’s pace within your presence, only to gradually pick up even more with the slightest things you did that he adored or moved in closer proximity to him to the point he thought he was going to pass out; fortunately for Pavitr he didn’t, sitting on elevated structures was dangerous enough but sitting on elevated structures whilst on the verge of potentially passing out wouldn’t have made for a great combination.

Despite experiencing the universal fear of rejection, it never truly stopped Pavitr from being close to you as humanly possible. After all you’re his best friend first and he’d be damned to let his romantic attachment and his fear create a rift between you two, which is why the now tradition of binge watching dramas was created for it gave him the opportunity to spend time with you; being Spider-man was amazing in and of it’s own but what wasn’t amazing was the fact that he wasn’t given as much time with you as he wanted, Mumbattan needed it’s hero but he, Pavitr Prabhakar, not Spider-Man, needed you more.

‘It’s a love many people desire but don’t have willpower to go through with as it tends to possess the ability to overwhelm them and become suffocating but it shouldn’t be that way when you’re in love.’ He explained and you listened intently to every word that fell from his lips that you’ve been transfixed on for the majority of his speech. ‘Love is an all encompassing force that can make you feel a multitude of emotions but you know when a love is right when they make you feel as though you can do anything, be anything, become anything with unbiased judgment. Real love is accepting that they are human and are bound by mistakes, real love is being the others hero but most of all real love is just two souls growing a deeper affection for humanity’s inner beauty.’ He finished, looking at you with a smile.

‘That was beautiful Pavitr.’ You tell him, ‘I know your a sucker for romance but that was especially impassioned,’ you nudged his arm in an act of playful banter despite hearing the sound of your heart breaking over having lost the boy you liked who wasn’t yours to have feelings for because like he said you could never truly give your heart to someone else when they had their name carved into the very essence of your being. ‘So…who’s the lucky person that’s made your heart sing like a canary?’ You mentally applauded yourself for being able to made it through that entire sentence without cracking from under the inevitable heartbreak you were about to experience.

Pavitr, ever the opportunist, saw the chance to admit his hearts deepest desire, sure the setting could’ve been a little better that what he had in mind but Pavitr was willing to work with whatever he was given to his advantage. So he grabbed ahold of your hands and given them a tight, comforting squeeze as he made sure to keep eye contact with you when he said his next words over the sound of his racing heart; ‘it’s you, you taught me how beautifully terrifying love can be when in the face of rejection but once upon a time you told me that it’s better to have tried then to have never have tried at all.’ You did in fact remember telling him that when he once asked you what he should do if he ever developed a crush and wanted to ask them out, which at the time only slightly stung in comparison to the overwhelmingly excruciating pain of self deprivation along with ever other human emotion attacking your sense.

Despite the verbal confirmation, you still were in a state of doubt and insecurity that it made it hard for you to believe the reality of his words no matter how hard your heart was telling you to. ‘Why me though? I’m not that special.’ Is your response and the way Pavitr’s face seemed to drop only made your fears all the more real, here he was bearing his heart out to you in a way that you could’ve only conjured up in your dreams and yet you still had to find some way to ruin it by doubting his genuine feelings. ‘Not that special?’ Pavitr repeated, his upset becoming more evident but it wasn’t in due to you but more so towards the fact that you didn’t hold yourself to the same standard that he did; which was pretty damn high. ‘Not that special?’ He repeats again, ‘you’re more then special! To me, you’re the reason the stars are hung in the sky, you’re the reason flowers bloom, birds sing in the morning and why I awake with a smile upon my face and fresh breath in my lungs. To me you’re the reason for my happiness, for my hope for the future and for my beating heart that quickens upon seeing you.’

Pavitr then went onto prove this point by pulling one of your hands that he has in his grasp towards his chest where you could feel it’s quickened pace branch your fingertips. ‘See?’ He tells you, keeping your hand against his chest, ‘that’s because of you and you still don’t think you’re special when your everything I could ever think about? I miss you when your not here but miss you even more when you are because we’re not as close as I’d like us to be but that’s not something I wish to put upon you if it’s not what your heart desires.’ He finished and you couldn’t help but start to tear up, from his impassioned speech to his unwavering acceptance to the possibility of you not feeling the same, only further proved to you how much of a beautiful soul Pavitr Prabhakar was and how fucking lucky you were to be able to know him as deeply as you did.

There was so much going off inside your head that the only response that you could come up with was; ‘Just kiss me already.’ And within a matter of seconds Pavitr had both hands cupping your cheeks as he leant in and pressed his lips firmly against yours, which had you both smiling giddily at the warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips continued to press and weave against one another in such sweet tandem; that at some points you almost forgot to pull apart for air but when you did remind yourselves that you had lungs that were in desperate need of oxygen. You didn’t dare stray too far from one another as Pavitr pressed his forehead against yours, eyes stilled closed and a dopey, lovey smile gracing his lips.

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to top your confession speech but I hope something as simple as this is enough because I like you too Pavitr Prabhakar.’ You whispered against his lips, ‘I like you a lot that when you’d talk about your crush it’d hurt but now knowing what I do now, the brief moment of pain I felt pales in comparison to the light, warm, comforting sensations I get when I’m only with you. For it was all worth this very moment.’ You finished before stealing a cheeky peck from his lips; causing him to whine when you pulled back. ‘No, give me a proper kiss.’ You chuckled but obliged to his requested and gave him a proper kiss to the lips, though this time Pavitr’s hands moved to your waist and your hands took to cupping his cheeks and soon you were back to feeling that lighthearted and warmth place.