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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Thinking about König again.. help

Kissing him could be so narratively(?) interesting if the hood stays on. It’s a situation where you have to come to him - his face is his territory, it’s gonna be on his own terms. And like,, not lifting the hood away, but lifting it so that you can put it over your own head also - kissing him under it. Allowing yourself to be consumed by the shadows kind of, but he is ‘the shadows’ in this metaphor. I bet he’d get off on that

I absolutely love kissing König through the mask, I think there's something incredibly tender and trusting about it. Not forcing him to lift it, meeting him where he is and not half way. It's the same reason I love when fics kiss Ghost through his mask. It's a level of understanding, an willingness to say "you don't need to change I'll meet you where you're comfortable."

That said, joining him under the mask to kiss him? Also so so good. Lifting the hood just enough to duck under, tipping your head with your eyes squeezed closed, König leaning forwards to keep you both obscured as he kisses you... There's something very... two becoming one in the gesture. Not just meeting him, but joining him.

There are so many ways a first kiss can go, so many ways the second will build off it, and so much more to the third. Here's Medieval king!König kissing his gardener for the first time(despite having fucked her multiple times before this)

It's a quick motion, one that seizes you when you least expect it. Something tender grabs hold of your heart, indescribable and unwanted, and you grab the bottom of König's chain mask to pull him down to your height. You press your lips to the skin warmed metal, hope he can feel the pressure at least of your mouth against his, and hold him there. There's a brief frozen moment, König stands more still than you've ever known him, held at the edge of breath with his hands curling into tight fists by his side. You pull away, still feeling the cut of metal against your lips.

And he grabs you, rips his mask up and pulls you against his chest as his lips meet yours. His mask falls against your head, weighing you down and forcing your head to tip back to meet the fervid press of his lips. It's not the first time you've felt the warmth of them, but it's the first time they've felt so wanting. The first time they've felt almost crushing with the way König pushes them against yours, and yet it is still painfully chaste. Painful in the way it makes your heart clench, and your stomach flutter.

There is so much you've done with this man, so many ways he's taken you, and yet he kisses you so plainly. He kisses you like he's never had the pleasure of kissing anyone, and you can't say you have either, but you'd expected something so much different from him. You'd expected domination, tongue and teeth. You'd expected that he'd be colder, that he'd treat you with the same arms-length respect that allows you to leave his chambers after each night you spend with him. Instead you find a man as warm as the sun that beats against your skin and, perhaps, as desperate as you are for such simple affection.

He pulls back, tilts his head, and kisses you again, gentler this time. His arms still hold you tight, still warn you not to try and escape, but his lips slide against yours with a softness that steals the very air from your lungs. König sighs against your lips, your own parting to kiss him a fourth and a fifth time. Your arms find their way around his broad shoulders, your fingers dig into the rich material of his cape, and he kisses you, like it's the only thing he's ever wanted to do.

So that when you part a final time, and his tongue traces along the seam of your lips, you find yourself smiling and feel his lips curve to follow suit. My König, you think.

"Meine Herz," König murmurs. You shake your head. It's rather silly getting fluttery over something so simple. König fixes his hood back into place, and tips his head, pressing his chain covered lips to your cheek. "I'll be good," He tells you, "and you will kiss me again."

As if that simple act were some great reward. Maybe it was.

#‚I‘ll be good‘#könig dont say that #I‘ll get ideas #how good?#no… I shan’t elaborate…

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Me with regular Konig: baby boy. Baby. Let me pay him on the head and call him a good boy.

Me with fae! Konig: nasty. Nasty horrid man. Mangy alley cat. He has fleas all over. Give him a bath.

Me with Regency! Konig: Whore.

It's funny to me that Konig in the fae AU - as the "ultimate predator" - would have no reason to growl.

In the animal kingdom, an animal that growls wants to scare you away. An animal that doesn't growl wants to kill you.

Why alert your prey of your attack? Animals only really growl to scare away another animal instead of fighting it so they can conserve energy: Snakes hiss and rattle so they don't have to use up all their venom and be left vulnerable for another attack while they use valuable energy to produce more. Animals growl to scare predators away if they think they can't win the fight or don't want to get seriously wounded in the fight.

Konig would have no reason to doubt his ability to win a fight. Konig would have no reason to worry about conserving energy, he can find food easily. Konig would have no reason to fear being wounded because who could touch him?

And it makes sense that Konig wouldn't want to scare away those he wants gone, it's more efficient, easier, and more logical to kill them, that way they can't come back.

You know why he would growl? To impress a mate.

I mean, if he can't kill someone (however temporarily he'll let them live) lest he risk being banned again he can still make a show of it. Mate doesn't let him show how strong he is through his normal methods? Look, even these magical beings are scared of a measly little growl.

He would enjoy showboating I think too. How deep and rumbling his growl can be. Using his vocalisations to express other feelings as well.

You've also mentioned him enjoying the hunt with Libeling and stalking her without much noise but letting her be aware of his presence so she can feel at ease and he gets the thrill of the hunt. Which would tie into how he wants to respect her and wants her to see him and appreciate his strengths but not necessarily fear him too much.

I think it would be cute that during their first couple meetings Konig growls and Liebling of course assumes it's him throwing his weight around or trying to scare her and is upset. Whereas poor Konig is shellshocked because he didn't even mean to growl it just happened. For the first time in... Ever? Maybe?

He growled because he knows Liebling wouldn't like how else he deals with problems - why is he changing his behaviour for a human? He growled because he wanted to impress her - when was the last time he ever had to try to impress? He growled because for the first time in aeons he wants to communicate with another being - he's so used to wanting to maim and kill and hunt that he mistook the intense feelings as the same instincts he always had but were they something more?

Liebling, angry: Did you just growl at me?!

Konig, dumbfounded: did I just growl at you?

Just, Liebling angry at Konig while Konig is having an existential crisis.

Regency König is a WHORE.

Fae!König absolutely has no reason to growl. He has no reason to do a lot of things that he does in the modern age, he only does them because it helps him blend in. König has extremely weak magic, the man can use it but he's not adept wit it, he only taps because it helps him look more fae. He didn't growl until he met Liebling, because she considers it more polite than just ripping people to shreds.

König's natural noise is something more akin to clicking. Sort of like the Predator, but I also think of it like mandible clicks, something reverberating and distinctly inhuman. He's based off of a mammalian predators, but I don't think he made normal mammal sounds for a LONG time. Speech is sort of new to him, same with disguising himself. This is why he tends to lose control of his form when he's not paying attention to it(thank God for Liebling being a monster fucker).

You're dead on the money that König respects Liebling and wants her to see his power without fearing him. He has a huge amount of respect for her, not only because she's the only person that stands up to him, but also because she's incredibly smart and self sufficient. König loves how much she doesn't need him or want him, she has no desire for his power and so he has no issue giving it to her.

I think he growls for Liebling because he truly sees her as his better, as the one person that can match truly him. There are a lot of firsts from König in his relationship with Liebling, and a lot of confusing feelings that he's never really had before. Lust, sure, but love? Nope.

"Did you growl at me?" You try to fix the disbelieving glare on your face, your cup of tea half raised. König stares at you like he doesn't believe it either.

"Did I?" He asks, as if that will get him out of this.

He didn't mean to growl at you. The rumble in his throat had just slipped out. Something deep and aggressive had taken hold of him, something warm in the pit of his stomach. You eye him suspiciously, glaring over the rim of your cup. König can't offer an explanation. He hasn't made that sound before. There's no reason to warn anyone of his teeth, if they can see them it's already too late. But you...

You glance at the people passing by, enjoying the sunshine, the weather nice enough to sit outside your favorite bakery after work. Your lashes dust against your cheeks when you blink, your skin looking warmer for all the sunshine. You're close enough to see his teeth and yet you're not running scared. You've seen them, and you still sit across from him, still turn your attention away from him, your bare neck on display with all the trust in the world. You're so lovely.

The sound bubbles again, a reverberating growl in his throat that pitches down, attempting to escape lower. You glare at him from the corner of your eye and turn to face him.

"What?" You question, spit it like a swear as you set your cup down. König blinks, sits back in his seat, straightens to sit taller. He doesn't know. He has no reason to warn you of anything, no plans on eating you. He doesn't even growl at the fae unlucky enough to get caught in his claws. What threat could you possibly pose to him that he needs to warn you away? What energy does he need to conserve? His teeth don't run out of bite, his claws still rip and tear, he is as much the monster he always has been, and you are still small and soft comparatively.

"Nothing," He tells you, because truly there is nothing. He doesn't know what there might be to make him do this. "You're beautiful," he offers instead. Compliments always make you look away from him, and this time is no different. You press your hand against your cheek, leaning against the edge of the table and turning away from him. He can almost hear the blood rushing to your cheeks, feel the pout of your lips against his hand.

The sound settles lower now, rumbling in his chest pleasantly with the contraction of his lungs. It thrums through his vocal cords, and against his tongue, as soft as the curl of your fingers. You don't look at him this time, seem to try and twist further out of his view. Something sparking like recognition in your eyes. König tips his head to study you, brows drawing together.

Is it concern that flutters in his stomach? Is it aggression that clenches hot in his chest? Does he growl at you because you're so much greater a threat than he is?

"You're purring," You mumble, voice muffled by your hand, "it's embarrassing."

You say that, but all your lovely spider-silk tethers glow a pleasant gold, and König's heart beats a little faster.

#IM IN LOVE WITH HIM #HES SO CUTE #OH MY GOD #HAVE EVERY SINGLE TETHER KÖNIG #LIEBLING IS SO MUCH STRONGER THAN I AM

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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What Once Was

A perspective shift, a pause, a brief respite before doubt takes hold again. Android!Ghost feels his heart beat.

You grew up in Manchester, or at least you had a job out there. You don’t like thinking about “growing up.” As far as you’re concerned you’ve been doing this your whole life. Fixing things. You had a job, an apprenticeship, with a bot mechanic at one of the industrial plants. You’d taught yourself coding, but at risk of electrocution you’d found someone to teach you the rest. It was hard, but the work was rewarding. You were young, but unlike people, bots care more about the results than how long a doctor has been a doctor. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t know they should have.

The area was rough, you always liked the industrial parts of town, but even you could admit the place had seen better days. There was this old butcher shop. Real old school, but people like that. Meat tastes better when it’s cut by human hands, you’d heard someone say once. And there was this kid working there, Simon, he couldn’t have been much older than you. You saw him on your lunch breaks sometimes. You shared your sandwich with him.

He smiled sometimes, more than you would have thought given everything you knew about him. He liked working with his hands, you got that. He liked being away from home, you got that too. He never called you crazy when you talked about bots like they were people. He was sweet, you liked that about him.

He disappeared one day, without saying goodbye. You figured that was just what happened to people who lived like you two did. You didn’t even bother with a police report. Maybe you should have.

You still sit with your knees pulled up to your chest when you’re working on small parts. Your brows still furrow the way they did when you were a teenager. Ghost watches you flip down your magnifier over your eyes and remembers teasing you about needing glasses from squinting too much. You still blow the dust out of old cartridges and stick them into your arsenal of wires just to listen to the technicolor drone of ancient video games while you work.

“Just the music,” you’d told him years and years ago, “it helps me focus.”

You’re exactly the same, and yet you’re so unfathomably different. Or maybe he’s different. Different in the ways that matter most, in the ways that mean you’ll never recognize him. It’s better like this. He’s been through too much to be the sort of man you deserve. Barely a man at all, really.

That doesn’t stop him from circling you, like a moth to a flame, or a weary soldier to the comfort of home. He finds himself in your workshop with repairs that aren’t repairs, with injuries that he’s never been bothered by before. Ghost sits and lets you run diagnostics, lets you poke and prod at his gears, and he never says a word. Never mentions that you still look beautiful in work lights, that you shouldn’t hold your tweezers in your mouth because you always pinch your lip, that you’re still you even when he isn’t sure he’s still himself. He never mentions that he has a million things he’s never told you, that he wanted to tell you but never got the chance to.

He thinks them sometimes: when he’s watching you work, when you smile up at a bot warmly, when you ask him what’s wrong, when you start walking towards him before you even know what he needs, when you lay your hands on him and he flips every sensor to try and feel your warmth. He thinks that he loves you, that no matter how little of him is left he’ll always love you. He could love you with nothing, with bare circuits and white matter, and that would be enough to keep him going.

It was enough to keep him going. It isn’t anymore. Not when you’re here, so close and still a thousand miles away. Not when you don’t recognize him, when you don’t see the scrawny kid from Manchester in the corded steel and dense circuitry.

Did you think of him when he left? Did you worry? It always felt melancholic, said as a joke that neither of you laughed at: it’s gonna kill me one day, this world’s gonna kill me. Was that what you thought happened? When you knew about his father, when he sat down for lunch with fresh bruises and a split lip, did you think that’s what happened when he didn’t show up the next day? Did you mourn him?

He should have taken you with him. Sixteen. Young enough to kill for a living, but still too young to save you. He couldn’t save anyone, couldn’t even save himself.

They shouldn’t have put him back together.

Not if it meant he’d see you again.

Not if it meant you’d look at him like this,

Like nothing.

Repairs that aren’t repairs. Injuries that never bothered him before. Diagnostics. Circling. He knows it will burn him, he can feel the heat, but he can’t stop. Androids aren’t supposed to feel. Men aren’t supposed to be metal. And you don’t love him.

Not anymore.

(If you ever did.)

#I hate you #I love you #I feel… some pressure behind my eyes #why is ghost always so tragic #he deserves the world #and more

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Does anyone want to hear about android!Ghost's dick? No?

OK well I wanna talk about it so...

Starting off strong with the "he doesn't have one" argument because what use does he have for one when he's literally built for active duty? Well. First of all who build a robot you can't fuck? Second of all shhhhhhhh.

As it stands he doesn't have one. Not that he doesn't want one or wouldn't use one but the military can be so stingy... so obviously he's gotta enlist his favorite mechanic to make him one. Which is a fun in person request to make. Just showing up to your workshop and telling you he wants a dick while you studiously do not look at his crotch. You can feel him smirking when you ask what he plans to do with it. (He'd get by pretty well with his fingers and *redacted* but nothing beats dick)

So you gotta design a dick for this guy, take measurements, get input, spend hours agonizing over the neuropathways and how you're going to link this in to his synthetic nervous system. Plus like... are you gonna make this thing come? You probably should. If Ghost is going to be using it he should get something out of it.

So now you have to design an orgasm program. Which is easier said than done because how do you quantify that, and how do you code it, and most importantly how do you test it?

Well you test it by hooking Ghost up to the computer and setting the program to run, watching him stiffen and arch his hips into the feeling, swearing in that low mechanically filtered voice as he humps the air. Fuck he looks good. UNPROFESSIONAL THOUGHT. OK you stare at your screen and run a few more variations, asking him to describe each one and rank them. Great orgasm locked and loaded, now you have to set up trigger scenarios.

Which also means when you actually get the android dick to a solid prototype you have to call Ghost in and install it. You reserve the day, clear it with Price (new parts testing, custom made, you tell him. Giving no other details. He doesn't ask) and keep a fire extinguisher and a kill switch nearby while you tell Ghost to... jerk off.

And then you watch him stroke the gorgeous, big, cock you custom designed for him with thick, deft, fingers. And you wait for the orgasm program to trigger. And hope that nothing glitches and he doesn't rip your beautiful masterpiece of a dick off, and also that the come you designed actually comes out at the right time. So you sit there and watch him, press your thighs together and try not to shift in your seat even though you can hear the click of Ghost's cameras as he watches you watching him.

You don't wonder what he's thinking about. You don't focus on the grunt of pleasure he lets out. You do tap at your screen to check the sensitivity levels on the synthskin you used. You do reach to make sure he isn't squeezing too tight or stroking too rough and end up with lube based come spurting onto your face.

Which you suppose means it works.

Which means moving on to partner trials, and your hand tentatively wrapped around Ghost's fat cock. You don't remember why you made it so thick, but it doesn't help the ache between your legs. You try to keep a professional look on your face as you reset the program and start to stroke him with much gentler fingers. You ignore the come staining your face until Ghost swipes his fingers through it and pushes those same fingers into your mouth.

You end up on the workbench with him, grinding your clothed cunt against his firm thigh as you stroke his cock and he pumps his fingers into your drooling mouth. Mutter all manner of filth to you. Greedy whore, desperate piece of meat for him to fuck now that you've made equipment for him. Aren't you a smart little toy to make him exactly what he asked for, and so big too. "That what you want love," he asks, "you want a fat cock to split you open? Look'it you drool, probably tried it out before you stuck it on me."

Even if you didn't you can't say you didn't think about it, didn't drag your fingers over the dick appreciatively. All the scaling in the world, trying to make sure it would look right, fit right, on Ghost's body and you still made it with your preferences in mind. He knows it too. That's why he reminds you what a cock hungry toy you are. "All cooped up in here with no one to show you your place," you drag your tongue along his fingers, work your cunt against him, hope you leave a wet spot on his synth skin, hope he can feel you through the coveralls, "bet you dream about one of your bots holding you down and giving you what you deserve."

You can try and shake your head but he just holds your cheeks, twisting the fingers in your mouth to accommodate. Ghost makes a noise, a sort of clicking sound you can't parse, and tips his head. "Can't lie to me, deserve better than I could give ya, but now?" He pulls his fingers from your mouth and fists your coveralls, pulling purposefully at the material, "Now I've got all day."

#hhhgghgggghhg

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Hi Ghoul! I was wondering if you’d ever write a Fae!Graves? Cuz I have several ideas that I’d like to ramble to you about if you wouldn’t mind.

You know? I am not a fan of Graves. I see the appeal, but I want nothing more than to punch him square in the nose. I wanna bust his smug fucking face.

However, I would love to hear your thoughts on him. I think he'd be the worst as a fae. He'd be awful. I gotta know what you've got cooking for him.

#I get you so much #if something reminds me of him irl #I go on a hate rant #every time without fail #I like some fanart of him that depicts him as a dude w middleschooler humor #and then I remember the rest of him #then a chill goes down my spine

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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ooogh you get me

im a major fallout girlie i loooove your interpretations… but yeah ghost would be a ghoul there’s no way. he crawled out of the remnants of a fucked up vault that had too many roaches for comfort. gaz the more that i think about it would so be a ranger.. imagine his ass in the Mojave overlooking the area and complaining about the legion (and how little reinforcements there are) while talking to his pretty courier

tbh soap as a mechanic also makes sense but i could see him as like brotherhood knight or hangin around the followers (like yknow how raul ran around for a bit then was a mechanic like that but a really hyper for the apocalypse guy who really likes power armor mods and mods in general) and ur take for price is correct no notes

oh and how do we feel about könig as a mutant… or maybe legion? or possibly just a fucking monster like frank horrigan or a weird brotherhood knight.. but frank was also just a mutant so idk

Gaz as a ranger just makes sense to me, he's scoring lots of good boy points that he's using to convince his pretty courier that they are not, in fact, being held hostage by him. He's just following them around to make sure they're safe, no other reason. (He's watching you sleep and palming himself to the thought of you shooting a death claw clean between the eyes)

See I like Soap as someone lowkey on the run, maybe a former brotherhood knight, but someone that Price wants on his team and is trying to track down. Just very appealing to me, and lends itself well to my thought of "he saw you, he liked you, he grabbed you and ran." He's already on the move, why not take the pussy to go, y'know?

König as a super mutant... *fanning myself* he wears the hood so he doesn't scare the pretty vault dweller than stumbles upon him after she's kicked out of her vault as a sacrifice. I think much like Price He's built a bit of a cult for himself. He's smart, he knows what he has to do to live a long and happy life. He also knows that if he grabs the vault dweller that cries about being a sacrifice and brings her back to his little cult he can swing it as proof that he's favored by God and thus the rightful king of the land. And also, y'know... he's gonna breed her.

#könig…. hhghhggghghg #im literally so normal ab him #trust #TRUSSTT

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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do i have a single clue about fallout? no. will i try googling it? i did briefly and did not get one syllable through my head. will i read the fallout au? yes, yes i will.

Here are my thoughts...

Price: Elder Maxson type, ideologically unbreakable leader of the Brotherhood of steel. Bordering on cult leader behavior for the good of the wasteland and the (human) residents there. @ceilidho mentioned the reader getting lowkey kidnapped for breeding stock and it did something to me... Elder Price finds a fresh vault dweller and coaxes them in with promises of protection from the feral ghouls, supermutants, and deathclaws roaming nearby. He rules through fear, not of him, but of what lurks outside.

Gaz: NCR Ranger!!!! NEED I SAY MORE??? I shall. Upstanding moral code, determined to help people and rebuild the world into something with more law than it has now. He's here to help, but that doesn't mean he'll do it for free. After all NCR money doesn't spend as far as caps do, he's sure you can work something out. He's well trained, and we love a man in uniform. I'm thinking if Gaz saving courier reader from a raider stupid enough to try and mess with the mail, telling you he'll tag along just to make sure you get where you're going(and maybe to collect on the life debt you owe him)

Soap: Mechanic. I can't believe that wouldn't be obvious. He's the most necessary part of any wasteland crew. The man will get your power armor working in an hour flat no matter the problem. You need a mini-nuke? He's got two or three he's been tinkering with. You need a new core? Your water purifier break down? Does your gun keep jamming? Go see Soap. Price has been trying to grab him for years, but the fucker is too slippery to pin down. You meet him doing minuteman work and get caught in a fire fight. He's nice enough to haul you to safety, and then keep hauling you. Are you being kidnapped? No. Can you leave? ...no...

Ghost: Former vault dweller turned ghoul. The man has a bad attitude and a dick ribbed for your pleasure... After crawling his way out of the grave- er, vault, and being forced to carve out a new life for himself he makes a tidy sum as a vault hunter/one man raider/mercenary. He picks up a rat trying to steal from him and decides if you're that desperate for money you can get it from him the same way everyone else does, on your knees. Put that gun down before it goes off and hurts someone. He's scruffing you or tossing you over his shoulder any time you start getting too rowdy(ignore how pleased it makes him to have human contact again)

#man youre right ab price being brotherhood of steel #but im NOT happy about it #who am I kidding #i like everything you write #gaz is def ncr #upstanding lad #soap could never not be a mechanic #and being a ghoul is in ghosts core #its perfect for his backstory #in love with you brain per usual

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Begging on my hands and knees for Fae!Gaz to tap me into the next fucking dimension jeussnchfihsn

It's just that... coincidences only work when you believe that's what they are. Gaz can memorize your schedule, he can know your route to work, he can happen by your usual morning spot for tea, but it doesn't take many run ins before you start to get suspicious. He smiles at you across the tube platform and your skin crawls. Some prey response in the back of your mind startling. You've seen him every morning for the last week, and he's always looking at you. Normally you spare him a quick glance, but today he holds your attention. He takes a step forward and you have the brief feeling like he means to hop across the tracks to you.

Your train arrives just as your heart jumps into your throat. You don't see him out the window, it doesn't calm your nerves. He's outside sitting on your usual park bench when you go out for lunch, tossing bread at crows that scatter as you approach. You didn't know there were so many of them in the area, the trees are heavy with their dark wings, the air still of their clicking chatter. You walk past your bench and find another one, closer to the little playground, somewhere someone will hear you if you shout.

You break from your usual routine after work and swing by a patisserie. Paranoia is bad for your skin, you need something to calm yourself down, something deliciously normal. You sit outside enjoying the sun with your fruit tart and decide that seeing one stranger twice doesn't mean he's stalking you. Still, you're going to change your route and maybe the times you leave for work/take your lunch break. There, problem solved, your therapist would be proud of you. You didn't jump to the worst case, and you came up with achievable short term solutions.

"This seat taken?"

You look up and meet warm umber eyes, a smile with too many teeth. Your fight or flight kicks in and you're on your feet before you can drop your fork. Gaz catches your wrist before you can take a step away from the table and rips you to face him. His fingers finding your face before you can register you've been caught.

You drop, your body slumping to the side as Gaz catches you under your arms and helps lower you back down into your chair. He tips your head, holding your chin with gentle fingers, and pulls your eyelid up to check your pupil. All good. No damage done, just scared you a little.

"Sorry about that love," He sighs, taking the empty seat next to you and plucking one of the strawberries off your tart, "pushed too hard, I'll get it right this time. Promise."

Perhaps it's your own fault for giving him such an open wish. "It would be nice to fall in love." He can do that. He just needs to get the formula for it right.

#hehehe #twirls hair #stalking isnt tooooo bad #not when its gaz #he has pretty privilege

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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COWBOY KINIG WITH KIDS!??? (im biting at the bar of my enclosure)

how does it fit into the timeline? i love the idea of konig being the first to have kids, even if he doesnt really interact with the rest.

i can imagine konig at the feedstore with a sleeping kid in one arm and a sack of feed under the other. soap sees him, does a double take, and goes running to gaz to gossip about it, all other chores forgotten

Technically in the timeline of things Ghost is the first to have kids! König is probably the second or third to start his gaggle of babies, and it's not really a surprise when he shows up at the feed store with a baby. What is a surprise is that König holds the baby like this:

Walking around the store with one of his twins snoozing on his forearm, the baby's neck supported by only König's thick fingers, there's a bag of feed in his other hand. Presumably you are around somewhere with the other baby, but it's not a big store, and there's no buggy or stroller so...

Soap and Gaz eye him so uncomfortably, Gaz even chances going up to him to ask if he wants any tips on holding babies. König stares him down, lift the baby to look at its smooshed, sleeping, face and then turns his attention back to Gaz.

"No, he's fine."

Is he???? Is he fine sir??? Hold your baby like a normal person PLEASE

#hes such a freak #sighs lovingly #he IS supporting the babies head #stop booing and hissing!!!#hes right!!!

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Mmmmmm 😖. In every universe, in every lifetime, Soap meets a girl in a bar. It just so happens that this time you're on the wrong side of it.

Twirling a stir stick between your fingers, absent-mindedly pulling bottles and shaking bitters. You twist a sliver of lemon rind around the rim, and drop it in the glass. The dim red light paints your face with every shadow Soap could imagine but it's the way your lashes sweep your cheeks, the way your lips part, the soft line of your smile, the dimple when you bite the inside of your cheek, it enthralls him. You enthrall him. You set the glass in front of him and he wordlessly takes it, too focused on the way your eyes glitter in the low light to question what he's drinking.

It tastes dark and rich, there's a softness from the lemon that cuts through the bitters and something else that makes him take another sip. Honey. Just a hint of sweetness that lights up the liquor's natural flavor like moonlight shining behind clouds. You've moved on to the next customer before he can ask what it is you've given him. It certainly isn't what he ordered. There's scotch in it sure, but to say this is neat would be far past lying.

Soap grabs your arm the next time you pass by him, leans clear across the bar and grasps your bicep to stop you from taking another step away from him. "I didn't get your name," he tries with a smile.

"I didn't give it to you," you return with a raise of your brows. You shake him off easily and rap your knuckles against the sign behind the bar. It lights up in glorious neon:

"Do not Touch the staff"

Anyone else and Soap might grimace at the stand of gold that hooks itself in his chest, but for you? Oh for you he'd take a thousand tethers. He'd keep you for nothing less than your hands digging into his ribs, for nothing more than your fingers squeezing his heart. He drags his hands back across the bar, surveying the flaws in the grain with his fingertips. You. You give him a once over and roll your eyes. Something that feels suspiciously like his heart bursts with heat. Smart enough not to want a thing to do with him.

Soap holds his glass tight as he makes his way back to the 141's usual booth. He slides in next to Ghost and eyes the other drinks on the table, not anyone's usual fare but all half drunk.

"Who's the bonnie new bartender?" Soap asks over the rim of his glass. Price leans to tap his cigar against the ashtray in the middle of the table and exhales its smoke.

"Somethin' celestial," he provides by way of a proper name, before sitting back and casting a glare Soap's way, "don't go running off any more of my bar staff, can't afford to keep replacing 'em."

"Dinnae dae anythin' tae the last one," Soap grumbles. His eyes dart to you, the way you more, the way you pour and shake bottles, ks so fluid it almost borders on magical. "Ahm just curious."

"Bloody nuisance is what you are." Price grunts, "Can't keep your hands to yourself."

#I FEEL VERY GOOD ABOUT IT GHOUL #IMMEDIATE HOOK IN HIM #JUST LIKE HE DESERVES

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Does fae Soap have a perm darling? Are they one of his artists that he's feeding off of?

Threat was supposed to be his darling... then Crybaby showed up and they were both gonna be his darling, but uh... the toxic yuri is pretty strong...

He doesn't- I mean I don't want to say he doesn't have a darling (mostly because I'm lowkey shipping him with @ethereal-night-fairy's Rún) but he doesn't really... have a darling of his own. I grow closer and closer to putting Moon in a dangerous situation tbh. She'd be so mad.

#please PLEASE smack fae soap #he should struggle in every au

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rulekinnie · 3 days

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Sin Summer(Ghost + Soap)

Rating: E Tags: f!reader, Ghost x f!reader, Soap x f!reader, Ghost x Soap x f!reader, fingering, piv sex, oral (f&m receiving), dirty talk, D/s dynamics, mmf threesome, unprotected sex(sort of), choking Summary: Ghost and Soap take it upon themselves to interview you for the position of Barrack Bunny. Highly sought after, you're sure.

Part 3

The men are discussing something quietly as you take a seat on the bed. You kick your feet waiting for them to refocus their attention. Ghost’s eyes dart to you, he smiles, his eyes crinkling while John talks. You return the smile, enjoying the view. There’s only one reason to bring another man into the room, one you hadn’t exactly pegged Ghost for. Then again you don’t know much about the guy. Still, you’re not opposed. John is a good looking guy, Ghost is more your type, but you have slept with both of them, so you suppose you shouldn’t be too harsh on poor Johnny boy.

Johnny --you try not to laugh at Ghost’s clear familiarity with him-- crosses his arms over his chest. His biceps flex deliciously, reminding you how nice it was to sink your teeth into them. Ghost settles a hand on the back of Johnny’s neck and pushes him forward, catching his ankle with his foot to make the Scot stumble as he tries to catch himself from falling. He hops towards the bed and you laugh, holding your leg up to catch him with a foot pressed to his sternum.

“Clean ‘er up,” Ghost grunts, stalking after him. You tip your head to give Johnny a sly smile, directing him to his knees as Ghost tells you. “We’re out of condoms, so we gotta get creative.”

“Got one in my wallet,” Johnny breathes, his hands settling on your knees to spread your legs. His eyes fix on your pussy, and you reach to pet a hand through his mohawk. He’s a sweetheart when he knows his place.

Ghost tips your head back to meet his eye with a firm finger under your chin. He raises a brow. “I’ve got the implant,” You tell him, ignoring Johnny despite the way you pull him close. Ghost hums.

“He’s still gotta use the condom,” He decides.

“Want me all to yourself, eh?” You tease and Ghost pushes you back onto the bed.

“Somethin’ like that,” He grumbles, but you can see red creeping over his cheeks. He’s cute, expressive without the mask. All the scars you could feel under your tongue last night are on clear display now, only adding to his roguish charm.

Johnny’s tongue rolls over your slit and you jerk your hips. He shifts his grip, runs his hands up your thighs and around to grip your ass, pulling your cunt against his mouth as he sucks on your clit. Ghost ruffles his hair, settling a knee on the bed and divesting himself of his towel. He holds his cock in his hand giving its soft length a few lazy strokes.

You stretch against the bed, pulling his tee up to show off your tits. Johnny turns his head to nip at the inside of your thigh, grabbing your attention back as Ghost watches. You tug at Johnny’s hair, feel him groan, watch his brows knit together as he sucks at the soft skin of your thigh. He pulls back with a wet pop, rolls his tongue over the bruised skin, and drags his tongue the rest of the way back to your cunt.

“Pretty girl,” He coos at your pussy, “did you miss me?” Giggles bubble out of you, stifled by the wet swipe of Johnny’s tongue. You squeeze one of your breasts with your free hand, bite your lip at the sucking kisses pressed along your slit. Broad licking strokes turn into targeted swirls of Johnny’s tongue around your clit. Tracing his name you think, the curl of his tongue, the wanton groan. His mouth is like a furnace laying its heat over you, winding you up without pushing you over the edge. He presses the wet muscle into your hole, pushing close to wiggle it against your clenching walls.

You glance at Ghost, his cock flush and pretty, standing at attention. He drags scarred knuckles up and down its length, squeezing the head so precum dribbles down his fingers. There’s a soft pink tinge trailing down his chest, barely hidden by the blond swirls of hair that cover him. Ghost tips his head to watch you, you roll your nipple between your fingers, pinching hard as Johnny presses a finger in alongside his tongue.

He licks around his finger, curling the digit to press up against the soft spongy spot near your entrance. Tight heat thrums through you, making you whine. Johnny hums, moving to suck at your clit, parting his lips to slurp at the slick that his pumping finger pulls from you. “Clean up” he’s not doing anything but making a mess of you. Especially when he adds a second finger, that stretch is just perfect for make you squirm back against him. He drags his lips against your pussy, scratching the delicate skin with his scruffy beard, and fucks his fingers into you hard and fast.

You whine, tug at his hair, squeeze your breast just to have something to hold onto as your hips jump to meet his attention. Johnny pulls back to murmur to you, soft encouragement that hardly reaches your ears. His thumb rubs against your clit, his fingers working your cunt, jabbing pleasure with pinpoint precision until all the tightness and heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach burst.

You screw your eyes shut against the rolling pleasure and tip your head back with a moan. The bed dips behind you and Ghost pats your cheek. You open your eyes to his hard cock poised over your face. You don’t bother looking past it to the man behind the cock, just open your mouth and hold out your tongue for him. The pleased rumble it sends through him is enough warning before he’s feeding you his cock. Your eyes flutter and lid, vaguely you feel Johnny pull his fingers from you, hear the sound of a condom wrapper being opened.

Ghost gives a shallow thrust into your mouth, testing. You swirl your tongue around the head of his thick cock as he pulls back, sucking to encourage him to go deeper. Ghost seems content to work himself against your tongue, enjoying the way you trace it along his length and hollow your cheeks. Johnny presses his cock against your pussy, slicking himself in your juices. You moan at the feeling, and wiggle your hips to try and entice him. The head of his cock catches against your hole, and he presses into you ever so slightly, just until the tip is in. Stretching you so nicely but still leaving you empty. You whine around Ghost’s cock, the sound quickly melting into choked moans as Johnny grips his cock and wiggles it inside you, stretching your pussy further.

Ghost lets you adjust to the feeling, lets you squirm while Johnny toys with you. He pulls back, rubs the tip of his dick over your lips as you whimper. His cock slips against your lips as he leans forward, and you tip your head further back to try and drag your tongue over his balls. He deserves all the love you can give after last night. You earn a low pleased noise for your trouble, then you hear him talking.

Ghost’s voice is a low rumble, dark and dangerous like you haven’t heard him before. Even when he was dirty talking you, when he had you in every position, he never sounded dangerous. You suppose you don’t know a lot about him, but you didn’t get the sense that he was a violent lover. Now you hear him talking to Johnny and realize that might just be a kindness he extends to you only.

“Fuck ‘er properly or I’ll send ya back half-arsed,” He growls. You feel Johnny’s cock twitch, before he sinks into your cunt, filling you properly. He doesn’t stretch you as wide as Ghost did, but it still makes your back arch, heat ripping through you at suddenly being filled. He hits you deep, and you clench around him as he draws back to finally thrust into your cunt properly.

You lap your tongue against the delicate skin holding Ghost’s balls, feeling the coarse hair drag with each lick. The position isn’t the best for this, but you don’t mind. Johnny thrusts into you hard and you squeak, your eyes squeezing as you do your best to suck one of Ghost’s balls into your mouth. He tastes like hotel soap, you wonder why he didn’t have you do this last night. He was so focused on your pleasure, you’re not complaining, but it’s not usually the day after that you get a chance to blow the guy that blew your back out.

Ghost settles a hand on your chest, squeezing one of your breasts and pinching the nipple between his fingers. Mirroring what you’d done. The feeling of his rough hands squeezing and molding your skin to fit his grip, the electric pinch to your nipple, makes your skin prickle with warmth. You push your chest into his grip, clench around Johnny’s cock, anything to try and get them to move, to give you more. You’re caught on the edge of motion, teased with hard cocks and calloused hands.

You wiggle a little, shift to see what Ghost’s doing, and catch him holding the front of Johnny’s shirt, speaking in low, low, tones against his ear. Johnny’s face is red, his eyes screwed shut as he hangs his head. Ghost catches your eye and smiles, raising his voice, before releasing Johnny back to his work, “Only job is to stretch ‘er out for me sergeant, try ta keep ‘er from comin’ while you do that.”

Johnny shakes his head, his ears red as he seems to come back to himself. “Rog,” He grins at you, “Sorry doll, got my orders.”

You open your mouth to tell him that hardly seems fair, but Ghost is quick to silence you with his cock down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion and Ghost settles his hand on your throat.

“Had ta ask me ta dae that,” Johnny grumbles, and Ghost pulls back enough to let you spit. He drags the slobber over your lips with his cockhead, pushing back in when you open them. You swirl your tongue around the head again, tasting the salt of his pre-cum before he eases it deeper. You’re able to keep from gagging this time, letting him push down your throat with little resistance.

“Bigger an’ meaner than you Johnny,” Ghost rumbles, and you can’t help the smile that threatens to creep across your lips. His dick reaches far enough past your gag reflex that you don’t need to do more than swallow around him to chase the tickle out of your throat. Ghost groans, and settles a hand on your throat, squeezing himself through your skin. Your lashes flutter. The size of him… God.

Johnny snaps his hips and you moan, you can feel it vibrate around Ghost’s cock, feel the man press his hand a little more firmly against your throat. Your hands reach for Johnny, he fucks you hard, winds you up with devestating jabs at something aching deep inside you, then stills. Your fingers brush the thick hair on his thigh and his hands catch your wrists, pinning them by your sides, holding you down as he fucks you. Your poor sensitive cunt clenches at the dull battering ache of his cock. He hits you deep and full, stroking heat into you with each drag of his thick cock against your gummy walls.

Your hips jump and squirm, trying to escape the absolute precision jobs of his cock. Johnny may not be as big as Ghost is, but he knows how to use every inch. Your eyes roll back, as he pushes moans and whines out of you. Ghost thrusts into your throat, stifling every sound with his girthy length until the only sound you make is the sloppy sucking slurp of your tongue laving over his cock.

“Tha’s it sweet’art, takin’ it so well.” Ghost tells you, his voice rumbling through you. The man may as well have swallowed gravel for breakfast. His voice is wrecked just from the sight of you, from the curl of your tongue as he thrusts into your mouth. “Get ‘er close Johnny, play with that pretty little clit,” He orders.

You make a noise of protest and feel the pressure on one of your wrists release. Johnny’s thumb rubs over your clit, his thrusts slowing but losing none of their precision. Actually he pulls out a little, rubbing circles over your clit, sending electricity thrumming up your spine as his cockhead pushes against your g-spot. He works you up at the same time Ghost pushes down your throat and holds you there.

“Just like a toy, eh LT?” Johnny grins. You reach your free hand to push at Ghost’s hip with a whine. He angles his hips, pushing deeper down your throat. You try to take a breath through your nose and gag.

“Got this sweet’art,” Ghost assures, “just a li’le more.” Black is starting the edge your vision, your eyes rolling back at the constant drive of pleasure, the electric prickle over your skin, the tightness in your stomach that seems to creep up and up without release. Johnny swears as you clench hard around him, your chest burning from the lack of air and all your muscles tightening.

The attention to your clit leaves, and Johnny’s pace picks up. His hips slamming against you as Ghost pulls out to watch you sputter and gulp at the air. Thick strands of saliva connect your panting lips to his fat cock. You don’t get a moment to admire the sight of the glistening shine you’d given him, too busy with your back arching as Johnny grabs your hips and buries his cock deep inside you.

Even with the condom you can feel him twitching. His shoulders moving with his breathing as he comes. He gives another short thrust, and another, filling the condom with his spend before pulling out.

“Fuck,” He groans. Fuck indeed. You whine, turn your head to nuzzle against Ghost’s thick thigh, you haven’t come. This is beginning to feel like a pattern.

Ghost doesn’t seem to care, his hands hooking under your arms to haul you up against his chest. He positions you on your knees, and slots his spit slick cock between your legs. He rubs the hot, bare, skin against your dripping cunt, driving you mad with each bump of his cockhead against your clit. You lean back against his broad chest, let him wrap his arm around you, part your folds with two thick fingers. Your head drops back against his shoulder feeling his cock prod at your entrance. Thick and delicious even after Johnny had opened you up.

Your lips part as he presses into you, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch as his blunt head breaks you open. He makes you make room for him, the slight burn of the head popping into your cunt sends a shiver through you. You clench around him, and he presses his lips against the shell of your ear. Ghost’s hips rock, easing his cock in inch by devastating inch. When his hips finally meet yours you feel full. Full in a way Johnny couldn’t make you, every inch of you parted and stretched around this giant of a man. He grinds against you and you see stars, you can feel him in your stomach, God you can feel him in your stomach.

You lift up enough to give a solid bounce, though you’re sure you only get halfway up his cock. The motion makes you moan. His cock nestles right against your cervix, the warm ache of it as you move your hips makes your breath catch. You can’t seem to find a wrong angle to fuck yourself back onto him. Which must be the point.

Ghost doesn’t do anything to help, doesn’t do anything to aid the movement of your gentle bounces. It’s actually starting to drive you a little insane. You’re putting in all the work while he stays still as a statue behind you. You reach behind yourself to scratch your nails over his hips, tip your head off his shoulder to try and glance between your legs, see if you can catch a glimpse of his cock pressing against your stomach.

Instead you see Johnny watching, absolutely transfixed, on the way you bounce on Ghost’s cock. He’s hard again, or still, you’re not sure which, but his cock is hard and he’s got one hand pressed against its length. He’s started to crawl onto the bed after you, one knee bent to hold himself up and the other just starting to creep onto the mattress. Ghost pulls your head back against his shoulder with a firm hand around your neck.

“Why don’ you clean ‘er up again Sergeant,” He asks, his breath hot where he presses his lips against your temple, “and you, love-” the gears in your brain work overtime to process he’s talking to you, “-you just try to stay still for me. Let me use this pussy like I’m meant ta.” You nod quickly, your chin bumping against his thick fingers. It earns you a low chuckle and a, “Good girl” that makes you clench desperately around his cock.

Johnny crawls forward and bends down to lap at your clit. The feeling makes your hips jerk, too electric, familiar but unfamiliar to your current predicament. You can’t say you’ve ever had a guy eat you out while you were being fucked. You breath comes out shakily, and you try to hold your hips still for Ghost. Easier said than done when the man behind you pulls his hips back and fucks into you hard enough you’re sure the smack of your ass could be heard by the next three rooms. It also forces your hips forward, dragging your clit against Johnny’s tongue.

Your eyes flutter closed as your back arches. Fuck. Fuck. They may as well be hitting you from both sides. Johnny works his tongue over your clit, while Ghost’s fat cock drags against your walls, pushing against the same sensitive nerves from the back. You’re starting to sweat from the heat of it, your skin prickling as pleasure shivers through you. Johnny pushes forward, drags his tongue around your entrance, around Ghost’s cock as it fucks into you, licking the slick from you as quickly as it coats his lieutenant’s cock.

Warm broad strokes of tongue, hard thrusts from dick that hits every spot you could ever dream of. You’re forced to hold your hips still for no reason other than: you’re not sure whether to rock back into Ghost’s thrusts or try to grind on Johnny’s tongue. Ghost groans into your ear, Johnny groans against your cunt, the sound mixes with your own tight whines and whimpering moans. Someone bangs on the wall, but you can’t help caring.

Everything is hot and tight in the pit of your stomach. Your orgasm building again from where it had been abandoned by Johnny, stoked by the stroke of Ghost’s cock. It’s too much. Tightening and tightening with none of the usual leg shaking release. You try to force it out, but you can barely breathe through the heavy jabs of Ghost’s cock against your cervix. All you can think about is his dick absolutely ruining you.

Ghost grunts, angles his hips and tells you, “Go on and come on my cock love, come on Johnny’s face.”

It’s all the push you need. Ghost hits something deep and delicious and something snaps. The tightness releases with a gush as all your muscles seem to dissolve into shudders and you squirt on Johnny’s face. He drinks you down greedily, his beard dripping as he ruts his cock against the bedspread. Johnny groans, swears, as he slurps at your clit, and you feel the warmth of his come hit your knee.

Ghost turns your face towards him with the insistence of a man possessed and kisses you. His tongue invading your mouth with the same desperation he fucks into you. Your head spins, your hips squirming with sensitivity as he licks over your tongue and teeth. He pulls back to lick a broad stripe over your parted lips. Your cheeks are pinched, your mouth opened further, and Ghost spits onto your tongue.

“Keepin’ you,” He informs you, holding eye contact as he presses his hips tight against your ass and fills you. There’s no room, you clench around his twitching cock and feel warmth flood your already stuffed cunt. Ghost pulls back, rutting in shallow thrusts as your pussy milks him for all he’s got. His come drips out of you, pulled by the motion, and onto the bed. You can’t do anything but let him use you until he’s finished.

His eyes are like caramel. So sticky you can’t look away. You’ve never been fucked like that, he certainly didn’t fuck you like that last night. You wonder what’s changed.

Ghost pulls out with a sigh. You assume he’s going to let you go, and he does, but only to push you into Johnny’s waiting arms.

You feel a bit like a baby deer clamoring off the bed, your legs shaking with the effort of keeping you aloft. Luckily Johnny is there to hold you up. At least until Ghost sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder without so much as a grunt of effort. Jesus, how strong is this guy? Johnny jogs ahead to turn the shower on and you’re crowded under the hot stream of water to be cleaned up.

“That was fun,” You tell the boys when you feel like you can say something other that, ‘holy shit I think that changed my life.’ Ghost hums, his fingers much more gentle as he works to clean you up. “What now?” You ask, hoping the answer is breakfast.

“Now? Now we take you back to the barracks and keep ya entertained ‘til your visa runs out.” Ghost tells you with a smile. Johnny grins.

“Welcome to the Special Service pet.”

#WOOO SIN CITYYYY #and the crowd goes wild

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rulekinnie · 4 days

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Hello! Have you ever heard this song! When I heard it I gasped and whispered cowboy soap https://open.spotify.com/track/3uSuDgWfSBTTyaVqPxvbM9?si=et6b-jvmTTmTuzoV1hK34A

SCREAMING

We're jumping back to the 1870s babyyyyyyy

"You talk funny," You tell Johnny across the bar, "Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Only person ever tellin' me anythin' interestin' is you hen." Johnny smiles at his plate, dragging a thick slice of bread through the dredges of today's stew. You huff, and grab a cloth to start wiping out glasses. If he's going to hang around your bar all day he may as well rise to your bait. He never does and it only makes you like him more. Damn him.

"They got somethin' in the water in your country, makes you sweet on girls that want nothin' to do with ya?" You try again, raising your brows at him when his eyes dart to you. His smile is so much more devilish when he's looking at you from under his brows. You have to suppress the shiver it sends down your spine.

"Glasgow," He tells you, looking back at his plate.

"Not even speakin' English," You grumble to yourself, turning to set clean glasses on the shelf behind you.

"'S where ahm takin' ya when we're married."

You don't bother turning to face him, your own body rising to his bait with warmth in your cheeks. That's happening more and more these days. Must be summer getting to you. It's hotter than sin out there, and you've got a certified sinner breaking bread at your bar seven days a week. That's got to count for something.

"Where is that?" You ask, not because you're interested, but because you... Well you are interested but more in the geography of it. You've always considered yourself smart, you don't like not knowing things, especially when it's a man knowing something more than you.

"Scotland," Johnny says without a hint of smugness, "we'll have cows and sheep." He does this sometimes, meets your curiosity with answers, patience. He doesn't push his joke, doesn't take your question as a yes when it isn't one. Maybe you wish he would sometimes, just to know he isn't letting his joke drop so easily, but it's refreshing. You like being treated as something akin to an equal by him.

"So it'll be just like here then," you reply, it comes out more teasing than you really mean it to. You squeeze your fingers tight around your rag, turn to grab another glass. If you can keep yourself busy then those sorts of slips won't happen. You make the mistake of catching Johnny's eye when you turn. He's resting his cheek against his hand, watching you with a soft sort of smile that makes your stomach flip. You turn around without a glass and have to find something else to keep your hands busy with.

You settle on just touching the tops of bottles, fussing with the placement of glasses, wiping the shelf, whatever you can think of not to look at the man sat across from you.

"There's more grass, mountains with-" Johnny sighs, nostalgic, "-heather growin' on 'em, almost half as bonnie as you. You'll love it."

"I'm perfectly happy here," You tell him, tell yourself. You half expect him to ask if that's true, to push you towards what he wants, but you hear the rustle of his shirt as he shrugs.

"Then we stay here."

You settle your hands on the back bar, push all the feelings you have down through the palms of your hands, as you lean heavy against them. You could dig your nails into the wood, traces every grain and every swirl, and it would never be enough to stop the awful aching longing that this man conjures in you. You've seen him fight, you've seen him spit and swear as he's dragged off by the deputy, you've felt the hard lines of his body pressing you tight to the door as his lips find yours, and you've felt every sting of every proposal since then. You don't know what he's still fighting for. Hasn't he seen every awful facet of you?

"Why do you do that?" You feel the question in your chest more than actually hear it leave your lips. You're sure he'll need clarification, that he has no idea what he could possibly be doing. Men never know what they're doing, never see the hurt they cause, or they do and they keep at it for their own amusement.

"Ahm a good husband."

"I'm serious," You round on him, hope he can see it in your eyes. He raises his brows, sips his drink, pushes his plate your way.

"So am I."

You can see it in his eyes, he's serious.

It terrifies you.

#hes so soft when hes not nasty #soap can be boyfriend #as a little treat

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