#go grey all over idc

[mzcain27]

Guys I just found my first grey hair

[rucow]

saw too many ppl having awful takes on nerevar and voryn and the tribunal etc etc on twitter, so now im drawing soft sweet nerevoryn bc i can. im going to balance out all the negative energies in this fandom, one drawing at a time 🫶😊

[arolesbianism]

Bro what do you mean endori is only 4 events from the graduation event. Stop it stop it Now

[cheonstapes]

Nothing in my mind but nerd! Miguel and titties.

I'm going back to sleep.

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘YOUR BOOBS LOOK HEAVY, LET ME HOLD ‘EM FOR YOU” ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

a/n ~ i am so downbad for nerd miguel, what the fuck. titties, titties, titties, titties, rocking everywhere! thank you nonnie!!!! love you !! creds to @nymphomatique 💗

summary; you let miguel sleep over for the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last.

wc; 1.3k+

pairings; nerd!miguel x fem!reader

cw; SMUT!!, titties, body worship basically, switch!miguel, switch!reader, reader has pierced nipples, spanking, anal play, slapping, anal fingering, breeding kink/impregnation kink, cumming in pants, cumming kinda untouched?, biting, dry humping, they’re in love idc, nawt proofread - why did this take me like a week

miguel had been such a good boy for you, making sure you passed all your exams for this semester - you decided that he deserved a little treat

you invited him over one weekend to your dorm, telling him he was allowed to sleep over

he’s never moved faster with the way he packed up his bag and ran to your dorm which is on the other side of the campus

when he got there he was all sweaty n panting heavy, it was a little pathetic how eager he was but you let him in, making sure he went a took a shower asap

to be honest, you didn’t expect it to be hard for you to keep your hands to yourself, especially when your little boytoy is walking around your dorm in that combo - grey sweats and a tight wife beater, you can even see the outline of his abs

he followed you around like a lost puppy, it was cute at least. he couldn’t go two seconds without latching onto you in some way

he was just so excited! getting to spend time with his not-yet-but-almost girlfriend, seeing you in all your natural glory. you thought you had it bad? try hiding a hard-on whilst the woman of your dreams is walking around in booty shorts and a braless cami

speaking of that, miguel could just about make out your puffy, little, nipples through the fabric of your thin shirt - hello kitty barbells piercing your nipples

fuck, he was hard. and those sweats he was wearing weren’t making it any less obvious

miguel loves your tits. period. kneading the soft flesh, sucking on then, biting them. sometimes, whenever he cums inside, he imagines them filled up with milk - he would do anything to get you knocked up

you knew how horny he was, you could be wearing a trash bag and he’d still be as smitten for you as he is every second

so you made a decision - you told him to sleep on the floor.

you almost felt bad, almost

he looked like a kicked puppy, your 6’9 almost-boyfriend pouting like a child

i mean, you gave him a pillow and a blanket at least - plus, you have heated floors. it’s not that bad

he slept right on the side of your bed, making sure to face you directly so he could watch you sleep (not in a creepy way, he just loves you T^T)

you even made sure you were hanging just a little bit over the edge of your bed, an arm hanging over the side - a silent invitation for him to hold your hand

he was sleeping fine for a good while, hands still laced tightly with yours - but he was getting restless not touching you for so long

he stood up, as quietly as his huge ass feet would let him, walking round to the other side of the bed and sliding in

it creaked loudly but you were fast asleep anyway, so he moved closer

he wrapped a beefy arm around your middle, hand coming to rest on your chest

oh. yeah, your tits.

now he was hard again

he pressed himself against you, completely spooning you, large hands sliding under your cami and groping your tits

you weren’t an idiot though, you knew this was gonna happen - having calculated every possibility before he came. you would rather die than admit you were a bit nervous about him sleeping over too

you purposely wore the cami cause you knew it would rile him up, n he always took such good care of his mommy’s pretty tits

you turned to look at him, smiling teasingly - “why’re you in my bed, hm?”

—————————————————————————————————

miguel felt like he was in deep shit, he knew how easily you could flip on him despite that pretty smile. he immediately retracted his hand, stammering as he tried to sit up. “s-sorry, i just missed you. i…i couldn’t sleep, ‘n you just look so gorgeous when you sleep and i couldn’t help myself-“ god, he always talks so much. with a tight grip on his bicep, you drag him back down to the bed, pushing him down on the plush pillows as you straddle his waist.

he was so pretty beneath you. glasses laid somewhere on the floor, curly hairs framing his face. his hands gripped your ass, whining quietly as he ground up against you. “mommy…” you placed your hands on his chest, keeping him pinned to the bed as you leaned forward. he felt like he couldn’t breathe, your tits were resting just above his face, hard nipples grazing his lips. yeah, he was definitely gonna fuck a baby into you one day.

his hands moved up to your hips, squeezing the flesh before he placed a hand on your upper back pulling you down completely. miguel’s tongue snaked out to lick at your hard nipples, the sensation of the cold barbells on his tongue making his hips jerk up against the crotch of your tight shorts. “shit...when d’you get them pierced?”

you rolled your eyes, lifting up your shirt and grabbing the back of his head - pushing his mouth to your tit, grinding salaciously against his clothed cock. “none of your fuckin’ business. if you wanna suck on my tits, then shut up and suck.” you didn’t have to tell him twice.

he sucked hard, unable to resist imagining them filled up with milk, all swollen and heavy, you round with his kid- SMACK. his head whipped to the side, lips slipping off your spit-soaked nipple as he stared up at you in shock. his cheek was stinging, but his cock was straining even harder against the fabric, twitching as his face thrummed with pain. “stop thinkin’, and suck harder. you should even be grateful i’m lettin’ you sleep here, so worship mommy’s tits like you mean it.”

miguel grasped your ass once again, large hands digging into the flesh as he caressed your soft skin through your skimpy shorts, sneakily pulling the waistband down as he ran his fingers down to your cunt. ‘course you were wet, slick staining his sweats. he collected some on his fingers, dragging it back up to your puckered hole, thrusting two wet fingers inside as other hand controls your movements.

“f-fuck, wait, you dickhead.” he continued to suckle on your breasts, flicking and teasing your nipples, tugging on the barbell’s softly as his fingers sped up. your body was quivering in pleasure, his free hand spanking your ass occasionally whenever you would pull yourself away from his mouth - massaging the reddened flesh soothingly afterwards.

his mouth and tongue were downright sinful. the sensation racking over your whole body as your orgasm steadily approached, the swirling fire in your lower belly lighting up. you weren’t the only one, though. miguel was hardly keeping himself together, thick thighs trembling as he tried to keep himself from spilling out his cum in his boxers, the tip of his cock peeking out of his waistband. all he wanted to do was see you writhe in pleasure, see that beautiful face of yours glowing in ecstasy after your release.

you would always let out this adorable, whiny moan when you were close, lips parting, small breathy pants - he knew you better than he knew himself. he was more motivated than ever, fingers moving a bruising speed, tongue relentless. he tugged on your piercing hard, a hand coming to rub your engorged clit through your thong. “m-miguelll - shit, baby - ugh.” creamy liquid coated your panties, not your cum - but his. the red tip spurting out thick loads all over his stomach, the sticky mess tangling with his happy trail ‘n pooling in his navel.

“t-thank…fuck- thank you, mommy.”

you pushed him back to the floor, curling up in the blankets - cheeks heating up as you muttered. “yeah, whatever. shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

“goodnight, sleep well p-pretty.”

“…night, miguel.”

yeah, you were falling for him - hard.

- my titties are small but he’d hold them like they weighed the world

[kill4luvina]

"Too Much!"

TattooArtist!Ony x Black!Reader

Summary : Y/N asks her boyfriend for a new tattoo under her tits, after telling her over and over again it'll hurt he finally agrees, he starts only for the exact thing he wanted to prevent happening. So, he evens out the pain by getting her a vibrator as he continues doing the tattoo on her, only to end up fucking her <3

Warning(s): SMUT, NOT PROOF READ AT ALL, Vibrator Usage, uh probably more but idk.

(Idc, Ony got cornrows here like anyway)

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"Babbyyy, Please?" You were on your knees begging to your boyfriend as you held out your phone showing him the under boob tattoo you badly wanted. "No, you gon be cryin, that shi hurt like a bitch." he'd mutter rolling his eye trying to look everywhere put your face. "B-but" you'd start sniffling and tearing up, he had spoiled you way too much, and honestly it was too late to stop. "fuck.. okay.." he'd finally give in making you jump into his arms in excitement.

The next day, you came into his privet room in the back of the tattoo shop. You were wearing a white mini crop top showing your under boobs with a short black mini skirt that barely covered your ass with pretty black Gucci Strappy Sandal Heels. You'd hug your boyfriend in excitement thanking him again for letting you have it on the house, like you always do. It was a trade actually, he'd give you free tattoo's and you'd braid his hair whenever he wanted. "I shouldn't let you pop out no where dressed like this no more.." He'd sigh noticing the pretty under ass tattoo he had done for you months ago with his name, having flashbacks to when you cried your heart out until he had fingers plunged in you to even out the feeling of pain.

"Ony! You didn't tell me it hurt this bad!!" You'd scream as soon as it made contact with your skin, instantly triggering him as his left eye twitched at the statement you made. "I didn't what?" He asked looked up at you, eyes focusing on you and ngl he looked mad asl. "You said this shit last time too!" He'd say annoyed as he ignored you for about 5 minutes until you start crying. Eyes filled with tears sobbing as you brought your hands up to try and clean your overflowing tears. "Alright, stop crying mamas, give me a second." He'd say getting up taking off his gloves as he went into his drawer bringing out a new vibrator that wasn't open yet.

"Got it just for you, i didn't think you deserved it tho." He say sitting back in his seat as he watched you trying to clean your face quickly still sniffling as your face was now a mess but you still looked so cute in his eyes. He'd open you legs as he ripped off the packaging off the vibrator resting his right hand on your pussy giving you small circles making you moan as he gave you a sloppy kiss. "Feeling better?" he's ask watch you nod your head, feeling you get completely wet at just the contact of his fingers. He'd take the vibrator and turn it on low, he had bought you a pink Rabbit Vibrator. It was basically a penetrative vibrator that offered simulation to your clit to.

He's slowly slide if in before licking his fingers and putting his gloves back on as you moaned trying your hardest not to move as your legs clamped together. "Stay still.." he's say blankly as he continued your tattoo as you didn't even know how to feel at that moment, hands holding tightly to whatever you could find. This would go on for about another 25 mintues until he'd stop as you start twitching from your second orgasm somehow. He'd take off his gloves before pulling out the now soaked vibrator putting it too the side. Standing up he'd pull down his grey nike sweat pants to reveal his erection that had been twitching between his pants since this session had started.

Not being able to hold himself back anymore he'd push himself into you making you moan loudly as you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck giving him sloppy kisses as he fucked you completely senseless as you babble telling him how much you love him. Crying when as he started leaving marks all over your neck finding you sensitive spot attacking it solely leaving you completely helpless. "Ony! Thank uuu!" You'd moan tears leaving your eyes as you came on him, twitching as squirting all over him as he came right after you.

He'd lay there for a moment giving you soft kisses as he whispered "Anytime my love.." Noticing you start to fall asleep knowing that you'd probably ask him to add onto this tattoo some other day noticing he hadn't completely finished it but it looked close enough to done.

LOL WHEN HE WENT OUT TO GET A BOTTLE OF WATER HE OPENED THE DOOR AND SAW A SMALL GROUP OF EMPLOYIES AND COSTUMERS AT THE DOOR LISTENING IN. LIKE BYE.

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[transmascdagothur]

Idk how to say this but I'm kinda tired of uwuifying every single aspect of Elder Scrolls and Dagoth Ur especially. I know the transmasc dagoth ur blog has been pretty funny so far but you know, TES lore by nature is insanely dark and i don't see many people appreciate that over here on tumblr. I want to see more horror. I want to portray Dagoth Ur as a fucked up husk of a sad man, I want him to be an absolutely horrifying monster. There's nothing wrong with taking terrifying characters and turning them into comfort characters because at the end of the day it's just fictional shit like go off monarchs, you want miraak to have a chiseled jawline and sheogorath to have a family, like that's cool and whatever. Tbh I love it when people use their imagination and come up with shit like that.

BUT. Personally I find it insanely cool when people can take a villain as a comfort as well as portraying them as just that: villains. Like can we all agree that if you portray a comfort oc as inherently evil or at least morally grey, IT DOESN'T MAKE YOU A BAD PERSON. You can like Dagoth Ur as the fucked up thing he is in game, you don't have to ignore that he literally wanted to drive out all the other races from morrowind and take over tamriel with a god robot. It doesn't mean you support ideas like that if you like the character. Idk why I need to say that.

It's not just Dagoth Ur, I see it with all the other evil characters too. Miraak, Mannimarco, all the daedric princes, Alduin, the tribunal, like ESPECIALLY the tribunal. I don't wanna hear anyone go like "nooo my babygirl Vivec has done nothing wrong" to me he is a bug eyed little freak and I LOVE HIM BUT HE ALSO BETRAYED AND SPEARED NEREVAR ALIVE. I'm looking at all of you rn. lol

Anyway so if you disagree with this idc, this is just my opinion. I'm just saying, I'm gonna focus on more darker aspects of this franchise from now on, at least with my other nerevarine oc Kazakir. But yall can still ask stuff about Dravas and his super romanticized AU with Dagoth Ur! Remember to hydrate and stretch your legs, rant over.

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter 111 — "meet me halfway."

—Deep Down.

Toc/cw: I want to apologize for the title, but I'm not going to *evil cackling*. Reader is oblivious fr. I love karaoke, you love karaoke, we all love karaoke. Cringe karaoke scene, but idc, karaoke is sexy. You can not tell me ateez doesn't love to be coddled and loved on. suggestive, kissing, yes. kissing. This chapter is all over the place I apologizeeeeee.

A lot of things can happen in the span of two weeks. You know that more than anyone. The boys aren't mad. For some reason, they aren't upset with you either. You want to ask why, but you like the way things have almost gone back to normal. Almost.

It's a week before your heat. You don't think about the effects that are gonna start taking place soon.

Consistently, mingi takes over your bed almost every night and is back in his by the morning. When you ask why, he gets embarrassed. "Can't i sleep in your bed?" You don't know if he gets up because someone keeps kicking him out, or it's just mingi wanting to give you space. You dont live in mingis' mind, so you'll never know. You share the left side with him. It smells just like mingi, lots of mingi, so much so you have the hintest smell of him on you in the morning, sea salt and jasmine. He also moves way too much, yet he somehow never kicks you.

If you happen to wake up in the middle of the night, you will definitely find him with his arm over your head, and you tucked into his chest. If you can, you'll scoot over before he notices. And by the time you wake up, he'll be gone.

Luckily enough, you're the only one with a single room. Everyone else has to share.

You rub your tired eyes stepping out of your bedroom. The sun glares around the living room right across from your door. You take your time walking over to the couch where jongho, wooyoung, and yunho stare at the screen. Each of their eyes shift to you as soon as you pop up from the side of it.

Bed hair, pajamas, and all of it in-between. You don't even flinch. They've seen you like this plenty of times before. There's not much room, so you take a spot on the carpeted floor. "What are you doing?" Wooyoung whines, leaning over jonghos' lap to pull at your shirt. Jongho looks used to him doing that, but he stares along with yunho at you. "I'm sitting," you pout back, pushing his hand off, not yet fully awake.

"Get on the couch, don't sit on the floor!" He leans further, tugging on you some more, his lip juts out, showcasing his true displeasure at the idea of you sitting on the floor. "No," you turn away, pulling out of his grip. You lay on the white carpet, arm tucked under your head. Wooyoung harshly whispers to himself. You know he's probably cursing at you for being stubborn.

It's the big break before the agonizingly long comeback. Actually, thanks to you, the deadline has been pushed back to accommodate the time off for your heat. The media doesn't know that. They only know you are still getting medically evaluated. You miss being okay enough to perform. You'll get that chance as soon as this is all over. And then you'll show them a real performance.

A heavy weight begins pressing on you, and you huff out your air, turning towards the couch. Slowly, wooyoung had crawled all the way over jongho(again, jongho doesn't flinch), and now he's lowering himself over you. Squishing you with his full weight.

On his back is a white blanket. He wraps it around you both. You have to turn on your hip and lay on your back so he doesn't crush you sideways in an awkward plank. "Woo," you groan. "You're crushing me," you pant out, pushing on his chest. He's got the sneakiest of grins on his lips. You're leveled at his chin. His leg falls over your hips, caging you in between his hoodie clad body and the grey sweat shorts he's wearing.

"I told you to get on the couch," he says matter-of-factly, resting on his palm that folloes his elbow right next to your head. This is very wooyoung to do to you, crush you with his body weight, and tease you mercilessly. You pout. "I didn't want to get on the couch" you squint your eyes at him.

"And I didn't want to get on the floor," he sighs, smiling through his pout. His head falls over you. His chin tucks you into his chest. You've escaped this hold before, but you are still tired, and wooyoung is a furnace compared to the cold wood that soaks through the carpet and nips at your back. Your singular arm that you can wiggle out wraps around his strong waist and sits on his back hips. The exposed skin there gets to you, and the closeness of his neck scent glands makes you want to sink further into him.

You rub soothing circles on his hip, unconsciously. Wooyoung takes a deep breath, the air from his nose hitting you on the top of your head. The TV is what everyone's attention is on. Yunho chews whatever snack he's gotten a hold of from the kitchen, jongho tucks himself into the free space wooyoung left. And you and wooyoung are taking synchronized breathes.

All is well in the stillness of the morning.

Touchy, touchy lately are you and all of the guys. Even yeosang. Especially yeosang. Which - wow, really? Yeosang? Yes. Yeosang.

The practice room floor is another area you find yourself lying on randomly. You've caught up on all of your moves and anything you needed to drill into memory. At this point, you're just waiting for everyone to catch up. You watch them through the mirror, the echoing of the music thumping off the floor. Yeosang takes a seat next to you. He sits criss cross, leaning on his hands. His green and black hair frames his face.

You scoot up to place your head on his thigh, curling into his side. Your phone is in hand. Yeosang pushes it to the side with the back of his fingers, getting your attention. You look up to him. His smile is small. You know that look he has when he has a question to ask.

".. Where'd you go the first day after your heat?"

And there it is, surprisingly, yeosang is boldly asking. You turn into him further, sliding your phone down into your sweater. You bury your face into him. Mumbling into his shirt. "What?" He asks, grabbing the back of your head. His hand palms your stray hairs down. He didn't hear what you said.

"I went to the girls.." You grumble, peeking for his reaction. If he had one, you couldn't tell. Yeosangs hand falls into a rhythm, patting and brushing your hair down. He pulls a piece of hair behind your ear, blinking down at you nonchalantly.

"Did you.." yeosangs words fall out. He takes a deep inhale. "Did you call on them?" He whispers, his hand trails to your back. You shake your head quickly, "No.. no," you sigh, closing your eyes. "Actually, I didn't know who to call.. Ghostbusters?" You laugh at your own pathetic joke, yeosangs smile brightens up, a small huff of laughter as well. You turn to lean on your back, pushing his green hair behind his own ear.

"I didn't know who to call on." You repeat, your hands fall to your chest. "Hook up culture scares me, and I'd rather bite my tongue off," you laugh, he smiles. Yeosangs smile is something you'll never get used to, never get sick of. If only you knew he felt the same way about your smile. "Not a fan either," he mumbles. His spread out hand rests on your stomach. You take his palm in your own, wrapping both of your hands around it, and you turn back on your side facing him.

He watches you fiddle with his fingers, pressing them against your own. You hear him inhale before he goes to speak. San cuts him off, with the smack of his palm against yeosangs shoulder. He takes his place by your hip. He pulls your legs onto his lap, holding them flush to his waist. The bend is awkward until you shift back onto your back. "Done already?" You tease, looking at the way sweat drips from his forehead.

"Done? We're just getting started," he laughs.

You love karaoke. Especially on nights like this. Where all the guys aren't extremely tired and willing to put up with mingi, you, and wooyoung begging for it. Especially you. Most definitely you. You love getting your way. Sparkling mic in hand, swaying to the funky but loveable beat of the early 2000s.

"Can you meet me halfway? Meet me halfway." You belt, leaning into it. Laughter consumes you. You take the stage in front of the led screen by yourself even though it's a duet. You know the english lyrics like the back of your hand, but the guys don't. So you're solo on this one.

The rap is your specialty. You put your own spunk on it, swaying your hands and hips to the beat. The all familiar urge to run your hand all the way down yourself to emphasize your deep feelings for the lyrics. The sweats hongjoong gave you to wear hang low on your hips.

"Right at the borderline is where I'm gonna wait- for you -" You point at the guys on the couch, piled up and cheering you on. All eyes once again fall on you, but you're still in your own little world. You're so very grateful you do this for a living. You miss touring. You sway back and forth, getting into the groove.

Your hips follow their own path, and you'd surely have a career in belly dancing with the hip control you have. You lean over, singing into the mic.

"I want you so bad- it's my only wish." You finish off, with twenty seconds of instrumentals you decide to just dance the rest away. Back and forth, you twirl and fall into a rhythm. Eyes closed. The led lights from the tv shape you out perfectly. Swaying back and forth because you're kinda embarrassed that you got so into it.

You take a deep breath, the mic falling to your side as you hold it in your hand. You lean back, looking over your shoulder for the killing pose. You don't even mention the stares. When you bow, everyone seems to shake out of their trance, cheering loudly to the point you know there will be noise complaints.

"Thanks. I'll be here all night!"

You pass the microphone off to wooyoung. Stealing his spot on the squished couch, San is on your left, and on his left is yeosang. On your right is hongjoong, and on his right is yunho. San slips closely, his thigh presses into yours, and you wiggle out of the squish zone. When you do, you semi-slip onto his lap. His hip holds your leg up to the point that you have to shift your other leg under you to get comfortable. You try but fail.

"San, scoot over." You huff, he stops talking to yeosang and turns towards you. He tries buts its no use, yeosang even attempts to help, he gives up though and covers his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. There's no more room on the couch, "sorry" san laughs, "wow, laughing at my misery, thanks" you try to lift your hips, struggling through the cushions and trying to avoid accidently smacking someone with your elbow. San is scooting the best he can, denying your claim with a pout. Wooyoungs voice begins with mingis, an energetic song they scream and laugh to.

"Here," san grabs you, his fingers spread over your waist and hips. He spreads his legs so you can sit between them. He lifts you like you weigh absolutely nothing. You try to help, but he's just moving you and himself to the point that you both are comfortable. He scoots flush to the couch, giving you as much room as possible so you dont squish or rub up against his.. Bits, you're assuming. It's comfortable enough that you don't have to worry about falling off the edge, but just to be safe, you lean back into Sans chest.

"Better?" He asks, his head falling over your shoulder, his breath fans your neck, pulling a slight shudder out of you. His thick arms tighten around your waist just under your boobs. You laugh, trying to ease the tension in your stomach, turning towards him. "we need a bigger couch," he laughs along, leaning over you, now watching wooyoung and mingi sing. San smells like white musk, wood, cedar, and earthy tones, deceitfully, there is the scent of dark chocolate under all of it. You lean into his shoulder, letting your head rest against it. His neck is right next to you, one slight turn, and you could kiss it.

You wiggle a bit, sans sharp breath next to your ear, makes you clear your throat. "Sorry." You lean forward, his hands move down to encircle your waist. Pulling you back. "It's fine, just.. don't move, please," he hushly says, squinting his eyes, his throat bobs when he swallows thickly. His cheeks are dusting pink from the corner of your eyes. The rest of the guys' hollering serves as background noise. Sans scent is a little heavier, but you can't tell if it's because you're so close. The deep chocolatey undertone makes your mouth salivate. You swallow it down. Sans hands are tight against you, pushing you as close as you can get, chest-to-back wise.

His left hand slowly slips down to your thigh. It perks there as if he's waiting for your approval. In front of everyone, distracted or not, San is showing a lot more affection than you know what to do with. You freeze when his breath fans your neck. His chin digging into your shoulder.

He's quickly ripping himself away from you. You jump when he begins clapping, hooting at their finished bow. Mingi lays on the floor spread out, and you laugh to ease the tension wracking your body. When did mingi even get on the floor? He pants and yells a jumble of words. Wooyoung pats his knee and walks back over. "I'm done," he says seriously, shaking his head. He takes his water off the table next to the couch on yeosangs' side.

He slips his muscular thighs onto your lap whilst he lays his whole body weight on yeosang. You stroke your fingers over the ever-growing patch of hair on his thigh, and wooyoung looks at you from the corner of his eyes. You can't distinguish the emotion on his handsome features. "Movie time?" Hongjoong asks, bringing your attention to him when he pats your arm.

For whatever reason, he's asking you specifically. "Yea, who's picking?" You ask, looking up at the taller alpha. His lip sticks out in thought. "You always have the best choices." You shake your head. "That's not true," you mumble, lips curling into a pout.

"Everyone here has good choices.. Oh! Let's all put a paper in a hat"

After coming out of his shared room, jongho won the draw, and because of it, he's pronounced as the winner of the night. He takes you with him on the couch, letting you curl into his side. His arm falls over your forearm, you have his hand in your own hands, his other arm props his head up on his fist. You lean almost completely into him, resting your head on his shoulder-chest zone.

You can see how his eyes grow distant with sleepiness. He's pushing through, though. You silently turn your head to him, "You can go sleep," you whisper. His eyes flutter to you, and he inhales gently, pulling his head off his palm to look at you straight. "No." He shakes his head. "It's okay if you're tired, I can just make an excuse-" "I want to be with you tonight." He's silent even as you stare. The TV flashes across his face when he takes your eyes with his. He means what he said.

His tired eyes shift down your face, landing on your lips. "Will you sleep in my bed?" He sighs out, staring with the heaviness in his eyes he usually saves for performances. His boba eyes shift from each of your own pupils. You inhale a breath, pulling your lips into a shy smile. "Yeah, do you want me to bring my stuffies too?" You say to make him laugh, his lip pulls up into a grin. He finally closes his eyes and rubs his fingers near the inner tear duct of his left eye.

"You can bring whatever, as long as you're there, I'm happy." He mumbles sleepily. You smile, standing up from the couch and stretching.

Whatever this situation you're currently in, you don't know what kind of friends do this or make it seem so romantic and domestic. Jongho just wants you to be comfortable, but you want him to be comfortable. So now, with your blanket and your childish stuffed whale(a fan gave you), you stand on the left side of jonghos' small bed. Arguing with him.

Jongho, just tired. Takes the floor with his blankets and bean bag in hand. "When you said sleep in my bed, I thought -.." You flush at your own assumptions. You can't see jongho on the other side. You can only hear him when he talks, shuffling to get comfortable. He stops abruptly at your words. Whispering in the dark. "You want to lay together?"

His roommates, hongjoong and wooyoung, are still currently watching the movie. They know you two have slipped off to bed. You didn't tell them exactly what you were doing, though. Secretly going to have a sleepover in the room where three alpha men sleep at night, the musk in the room is insanely drowning. You try not to dabble on the specifics of the scents.

"Yes, .. well- i did" you bite your own tongue. God, you sound so desperate right now. Begging jongho to share his bed with you and to actually lay with him in it. "Nevermind -" you take back, jongho stops you. Popping up from the right side of his bed. His hair is messy, eyes wide, but then reserved. He clears his throat. Smoothing his hand over the blanket and getting on it.

You stare for a few seconds. "Well?" He asks, his ears are beginning to turn red as each second passes. You bite your smile. Shuffling onto the bed next to him, you fall right into his side. But try to subtly shuffle yourself under the duvet. You wiggle to get comfortable. Jonghos bed is comfortable yes, but with him next to you. You're starting to think it's heavenly.

Jongho shuffles awkwardly, trying not to bump into you while he sits atop the comforter. You begin laughing into the blanket, watching him struggle to be polite in the tight spot that is his own bed. You sit up, letting the blankets pool around your waist. You reach over the left side of the bed where you dropped your own blanket. Jongho leans over to catch your arm.

"Careful," he clicks his tongue, and you swiftly reach up and let the blanket cascade down on jongho. A fuzzy royal purple blanket a fan also made for you. It smells exactly like your omega scent. Jonghos eyes widen for a split second. He clears his throat, throwing it around him until it reaches his neck.

"Thank you," he says shyly. You smile, digging yourself into his duvet once again. Jongho has a blanket that smells just like you, and you're under jonghos' blanket that smells like him. You don't forget he's right next to you, taking over your senses. You face him while he faces the ceiling.

"Jongho?" You call quietly, he hums, eyes shut. You bite your lip, withholding your question. Should you ask him now? When the question could make things awkward? But this back and forth thing with all of them, is it really something you'll be able to deal with when the time comes to not have them with you? You really want to know, though. Want to know what he's thinking and what they're all thinking. And now that he's at his sleepiest and most compliant, you want to ask more than anything.

"About my heat.. " You sigh and breathe deeply. "Would you have helped if you had known? in the practice room?" You whisper. Jongho shifts in his spot. You can see his hand clench over the blanket, it's silent for two minutes.

"Yea," he finally sighs out. "I would, of course, anything you'd need.. I'd get for you in an instance.. you wouldn't have to wait." You hear his breathing deepen.

"I'd take care of you." His sleepy voice says in the dark of the room. Your eyes fall over him again. His chest rises and breathes deep, slow, methodical breaths. Was he.. Asleep?

"Jjongie?" You lean up to look at him, squinting to adjust to the dark. He's completely passed out. The confession was from pure exhaustion. You wonder if he'll remember it in the morning. Your heart thumps loudly in your ears.

You have more questions than answers, Yet how are you gonna get real answers from everyone else without making it terribly hard?

"Hongjoong," you laugh, pulling away from his tight grip, his fingers once again grip your sides. Dragging you along with him to his laptop, left open on the couch. "Just one minute of your time! Please!" He laughs out, calling your name in a chant. You've been avoiding feeding into hongjoongs overworking attitude, even when you guys are due to comeback and everything has been set in stone. He's still working. You don't even want to look at another screen of beats and codes and orange, red, blue blocks that distinguish what sound is which.

"I'm not going to be in the demo! We're supposed to be relaxing!" You scold, trying to grab his hands from your sides. "Please, you have the perfect set of vocals for it," he whines, begging for you to just say yes. "At least listen to it first. You know I value your opinion most." He lays it on thick, coercing you to say yes, he still tries to tug you away from your marching towards the kitchen.

You click your tongue, pushing at his hands again. "What's in it for me, huh?" You want a bribe. Holding onto the counter and anchoring yourself there. "Anything! I'll do anything!" He says quickly, jumping on the balls of his feet. Hongjoongs grasp is strong. You doubt he knows how hard his fingers dig into your sides. You throw your head back, turning in his grasp to look him in his eyes. "You said anything! No take backs!" You huff, pushing past him and sitting in his spot on the couch.

He follows right on your tail. He snatches the laptop off the spot and sits in it. Hongjoong fumbles with the headphones, slipping them onto your ears for you. You look at him, amused. He's ever eager to show you what he's been working on. "Intro," he gulps, moving his finger to click play.

The ever familiar distinction of beats and hums meet your ears. It changes, heavier this time. You can feel the rhythm in your bones, bopping your head along. You hold the headphones closer to your ears. Watching hongjoongs face to see what he's thinking, he stares at the laptop. Pushing on his lip with his tongue.

The rest of the song isn't as different. The beats change and mix up, but not so much so it's a complete change. When it's finished, hongjoong pauses. Looking up at you through his lashes. "So?" He asks. You smile, shaking your head as you slip the headphones off. "I like it"

The look in his eyes is familiar, the distinctive look of not thinking its enough. You've seen it plenty of times before in his eyes. And every time, he never takes what you say seriously. "I was thinking of switching the chorus with -" he rambles on. You watch him do so, listening silently. You hope he knows you're always listening to what he says. Your hand reaches out to his wrist, his hand stops clawing at the laptop.

He looks up, sighing heavily. "It's really good, hongjoong. I like the difference it has, the way things switch up." You say. Humming the beat back to him.

The sudden nostalgic feeling hitting you like a train drags you back to the memory of meeting hongjoong for the first time. When you barely knew a lick of Korean and he was trying his best to communicate to you about something he was working on. The first two trainees at KQ Ent. Communication was the hardest thing for you.

Hongjoong speaks in riddles to you. You don't know anything about South Korean traditions or mannerisms. Being here was impulsive, and the only person who could talk to you was the manager named jongsik. You nod along as if you get it, hongjoong moves papers off the desk he's at. Making some room for you. Young, immature you helps him do so, stacking the papers.

Once cleared off, hongjoongs chair bumps yours so he can grab the stack of papers you just organized. You hold onto the sides to balance it. He picks out sheets and shows them to you. Musical notes and hangul you can hardly read is messily scribbled on the page. You look up to him expectedly. His eyes shine back at you, locking you in the darkness of them.

He hums a tune under his breath, hoping you'll get it and follow it. You hum back, the same tune he just made.

Hongjoong looks down at your lips. He must have remembered the same fond memory you hold dearly. He hums the tune, eyebrows pulled taunt under the bangs of his brown hair. You smile at him. "It's perfect joong," you shut his laptop, taking it from his lap. He let's you, finally listening to what you say.

"You'll sing it then?" He asks, turning towards you. You run a hand down your arm, hiding the laptop behind you. "Mhm," you nod. Hongjoong smiles, going to reach behind you for his laptop.

You fall against the arm of the couch, caging it between you and the couch. "No, you can't have your laptop back - because! You promised!" You struggle against hongjoong attempting to pull it out from under you. He knees over you, placing it between your hip and the couch. "Let me check it real quick!" He whines, trying to dig his hands between your sides.

Theres a few seconds of you laughing at hongjoongs struggle and hongjoong huffing and laughing as well. Finally, he takes a deep inhale and laughs, his lips pulling into a grin. His hands are placed on either side of your head now as he leans over. "Okay, What's your wish?" he asks, huffing. His breath fans your face. Close in proximity.

"Uhm.." You pretend to think about it, placing your hands on his shoulders. You make eye contact, then look away. "I have .. a question," You mumble, pulling your hands off his shoulders. Hongjoong doesn't move from above you. He doesn't even notice what he's doing. Pressing his knee on the inner part of your left thigh whilst his other presses against your left hip, practically straddling you. You shuffle, pulling your left knee up. You lightly graze your knee against his stomach, just above the button on his jeans.

Hongjoongs throat bobs when he swallows dryly. His beautiful dark eyes look between your own otherworldly eyes. your hands fall on his forearms, glancing up at him. How do you ask what you need to ask? How?

"Can i kiss you?"

Your jaw falls slack, taking in a sharp breath. He's slowly turning pink around the ears. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, looking between your eyes and your lips. "What?" You whisper. He takes a shuttered breath.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks again, more quietly this time, you hear the fabric scrunch next to your head from under his hard grip. You inhale slowly. Looking down at his own plump lips. Everything in this moment is real. You can feel the heartbeat in hongjoongs arm from your firm grip pounding against your fingertips. Your eyebrows scrunch.

How long have you both been waiting for this?

You quiet his racing thoughts, pulling him down into you. That should be a good enough answer, you think. Your lips smack dab into his, melding perfectly. Like they were designed to be there. You tilt your head up to hongjoong while he tilts his down into you. Meeting you halfway. His hand pulls you up into him. Placed gently at the base of your neck. It's odd. The taste on hongjoongs lips is heavy with vanilla. When you move in tandem, the blend of pear tingles your taste buds. Hongjoongs other hand holds him up, and yours fall around his neck, coddling him closer.

Hongjoong nostrils flare as he inhales, the sound bubbling in his throat. He softly prods your top lip with his tongue. You part for him. Letting him explore the cavern that's your mouth. The soft sound he lets out has you responding with your own. Eyebrows crease forward. This is suffocating in all the best ways, leaning into his touch and having him and only him consume you right now. The anxiety of the question completely lifts in hongjoongs embrace.

You pull back to breath, and he follows for one more. Just one, pulling your sticky lip with his own one final time. You heave in his presence. Eyes softly opening. Hongjoongs eyes are heavy, full of adoration, and unspoken words. He stares down at you. His breathing evens out softly. You take each other in. Both dazed.

"Is this real?" He asks, breathing softly. His eyes glance between yours, begging for the truth. You nod. "It's real, we're real." Your hand caresses the back of his neck, playing with the hair there. Hongjoong makes a noise, a somewhat strangled one. His hands curl into your waist, pulling you into him completely, gently. His head falls into your neck as he sinks down onto you. Falling onto your leg. Like you've just drained his soul. "Good," he murmurs, kissing your shoulder softly.

You pull him just as close. The silence doesn't hurt you, and neither does he say anything for a solid minute. "You didn't ask your question," he laughs into your shoulder, gently fanning his breath across your most sensitive spot. You smile. "You answered it already," you say, brushing the hair on the nape of his neck down. He sighs into you.

"What does this change?" You whisper. He pulls back, looking down at you. His hand once again brushes under your head as his elbow props him up. "Everything and nothing," he shifts between your eyes, honestly speaking. "This can be whatever you want it to be" he finishes.

You shake your head. "What do you want this to be?" You ask. He looks back down at your lips, then to your eyes. "I.." he tries to read your face. "I want this to be more," he whispers, putting his heart on the line.

"I want you. I want to be yours."

An alpha admitting such feelings, even when he's supposed to withhold them because its shunned. It's honest and completely true. When he wants to be taken in as a partner, your partner. The one seeking out instead of being sought out. He's the one asking you. Feelings the reversed roles. You nod, taking his words into your heart.

"I want you too. I want to be yours too." You whisper, leaning up to kiss the corner of his lip. "But.." You silently say, knowing you have to be true, he looks at you, worry in his frown. "I love you as much as I love all of our pack," you confess to the pack alpha.

"More than friends," your voice cracks, withholding the waterfall behind your eyes. They blur with unsheded tears. Hongjoongs face going blurring. His hand from behind your head comes up. Calling your name softly. you feel bad, like what you want can't be said. Like it's shameful. Hongjoong pulls away, grounding his knee back into the couch.

He's leaving, you think. He's doesn't think it's okay. Your lip trembles, and your eyes grow the most blurry.

Hongjoongs' hands come up to hold your face. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, pushing the tears out of your vision so you can see him clearer. "That doesn't matter to me," he frowns, and you inhale a sob. "I knew you did, I can tell. I don't mind sharing with them." he laughs towards the end, hoping to stop your silent tears.

"Don't cry," he shushes with a grin, pulling you back into him. You try to stop yourself. He kisses the side of your head multiple times.

He feels the same, and he's willing to involve the members into your very personal, very small, intimate pack dynamic beginning to blossom. God, are you special? You're so happy.

"They like you too, you know." he bites his lip, kissing your lips gently. "We all really like you. It's why we never say anything with the affection. Even if they don't know it, I can tell." He smiles. You don't believe him, the oblivious hongjoong. Cute, sweet, clumsy, captain hongjoong. "How can you tell?" You ask, rubbing your thumb down his cheek.

"Intuition," he hums.

For 3 days, you've been keeping things under wraps with joong. You love him lots. But it's too early to say so. And it's especially hard to hide the flushed looks and the loving glances. You both are trying to find a way to get a confession from the rest of the guys or to see if they feel the same way about the situation. It's odd, though. Having hongjoong, your.. boyfriend? Go out of his way to personally help you know if your other group members like you.

You truly wonder if he does like the idea of sharing you amongst your group, not in a possessive way, more so in a theres-more-than-enough-of-you-to-go-around way

The new feelings are strange and scary, one wrong move. One slip up, and you're ruining your friendship you've worked years to build. You highly doubt that will happen, though. You doubt you will ever want to leave hongjoong. You hope he feels the same.

Lately, San and wooyoung have hit the town, coming back tipsy. You make it obvious you're taking care of them, leaving hangover pills and water by their bedside table like some worried sick roommate. You struggle as you turn San on his side. Frowning at the scent of alcohol on his clothes. You slip his blanket over him, watching his sleepy and droopy eyes blink up at you.

"Omega," san whines, reaching his hand out to grab you. You sigh and sit back on your heels. "Yes, san," you answer, grabbing his hand from mid-air. You've got to be quiet due to the other roommates in the room, passed out, and completely tired from a long day. "Wait," he slurs, kicking the covers off of him. "San!" You go to stop him. He doesn't care. You grab his arms to steady him, watching his face shudder as nausea hits him.

He leans right into your chest, digging his face into you. "'mega, i'll take care of you." You could almost laugh. You're currently taking care of incompetent san, who's completely blackout drunk, who definitely doesn't know what he's saying or that he's squishing his face as close to your boobs as he can get. "I know," you reassure. "Me and woo will do it..." he mumbles the rest under his breath.

"You and woo will do what, sanie?" You try to ask, watching him droop down into you, San does weigh a good amount based on how much muscle he's packed on lately. You haven't been hitting the gym, so you're somewhat struggling to hold him up right now. You huff as you lean him back over into the bed, he wraps his arms around your back, dragging you onto the bed next to him.

You sigh, trying to lean away. "Me, you, woo, maybe yeosangie," he mumbles "everyone" he sighs into your stomach. You feel the heat of his head pressed there. San digs his face into you some more, rubbing his head back and forth across you. Nonsense spills from his lips, and you wonder why you even tried to distinguish it.

"Don't go," he whines as he feels you attempt to pull away. "San, we both have to sleep," you explain the best you can. He shakes his head into your shirt, pulling back to look at you. "Stay," he says earnestly.

"Fine, fine," you grumble, slipping into the bed next to him. Your head leans up against his pillows, whilst his lays on your stomach, clenching into your side. At least he's not on his back where he could choke. But you don't want to think about him throwing up on you either. Your hand strums through his red hair, separating knots gently. Sans breathing evens.

You can hear him mumble every once in a while. His hand clutches your thigh, holding it to him as if you'll escape. Using it to ground himself from the world spinning. He calls your name softly, shifting his head further up to look you in the eyes. "Yes?" You answer back.

"I saw your papers," he sighs. "The heat assessment ones, with hongjoongs name on it" san sounds sober as he says it. Your eyes widen. You know you left that paper in your room. You know you hadn't properly hid it, and when hongjoong saw it in your room. He signed to with your permission. A growing flush to his cheeks as he did so, his beautiful signature locked into your paperwork.

"san, I -" he cuts you off. "Put our names down," he ushers, squeezing your thigh as he says it. He looks up, squinting his eyes. "I talked with Woo and Yeosang about it. They don't want to say it, so I will." he sits up, swaying. The bed dips under him.

His hands land softly on either side of you when he sits on your left. "You can put our names down, i want you to, they want you to, i- if you want to," he emphasizes every word.

"No one else, no other alphas, betas, whatever, no one other than our pack should touch you during your heat. You're off limits to everyone else. You're ours. And I'll bite their heads off for even thinking about it."

You don't think san can bite anyone's head off. But the way he says it is as if he's trying to be as scary as possible. Instead, he's whining through his words, and it almost sounds as if he's scolding you. His eyes squint at you, tapping your leg before he falls back over your stomach.

"If you want to." He says, making sure you know he's not taking the option away. He's just jealous it's even an option. "If you remember this in the morning, you can write your name on the paper, all of you," you make a deal, hoping this will stay and if it doesn't then you know san didn't mean it.

"I give you my full permission to write your names if you remember." You bite your lip. Is this right? You trust these guys more than anyone. More than any hookup, more than any alpha, you know. You know they will not break your trust. Because they're your pack. They're your members. If they don't want it, they don't have to sign it. They don't have to agree if they don't want to.

And you know if san remembers, he can have the choice to pretend he didn't or to go through with it.

You won't know until they sign it tomorrow.

A/n; omg... leaving it on a cliffhanger again(I'm terrible)pls don't hate me this isn't proof read either ;"c next update will take more than a few days so I can gather the storyline and get everything ready before the big heat.(stay tuned)

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower (if I forgot to tag you (I'm sorry I'm new to this) :( please lmk!!)

[lilisgardensblog]

Stream theory! time:

I am here to write my thoughts about the Neuvillette part of the stream/trailer, feel free to share yours too!

"The Melusines can't be trusted! That goes for Neuvillette too!"

So, first I have to say I'm heartbroken to hear that the Melusines and Neuvillette can't be trusted, but idc idc i trust them no matter what. And the Melusines saying: "I'm confident that we'll find the meaning of our existence one day" truly broke my heart.

To keep going with the Neuvillette angst we have The Chief of Justice himself saying: "I find it difficult to express my emotions, because I cannot fully understand myself" The struggle to deal with accusations from your own people that they don't trust you while being unable to show them how you really feel... and to add to that whatever rumours saying that u were born from calamity?? I'm so confused and sooo hyped to get the full lore.

'is this what justice means to u? answer me neuvillette!'

First, let me point out THE VOICE ACTING FOR THIS LINE IS CHEF KISS. It sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it. And every time I hear it I'm thinking, what verdict did Neuvillette come to for Wrio to deliver such a powerful line? Maybe it's about Lyney and Lynette? Because we hear Freminet asking Wrio about his siblings and I'm thinking that maybe Wrio goes and demands an explanation from Neuvillette?

"You will see much in the human world, from the delightful to the depressing and one day, when you have dwelt among humanity long enough, you will be placed to bring judgement over all, as the spokesperson for Fontaine's past"

Can't move on from this line without pointing out the informal addressing here. No Monsieur or anything. Straight up Neuvillette. I'm curious to see how close the characters are and why does Wrio sounds so hurt/betrayed.

edit: a lot of people told me the voice line is from an npc but im too tired to delete everything👍

THIS??? raised so many questions in my head it's crazy. it's unnecessary. The hold this last line has on me is absurd. I think it's directly addressed to Neuvillette and I'm curious why is he the one bringing judgement over all? why is he the one shown all alone in a grey and dull Fontaine?why not Furina? What does "spokesperson for Fontaine's past" suppose to mean??Like we already speculated about him being the Hydro Dragon, but this is *sniff* i smell GREAT storyline.

Genshin is about to drop heeeeavy lore and I'm here for it.

"its unnecessary to hold me in such high regard"

Last line in the trailer. Neuvillette said this right after being shown as one of the most powerful people in the whole nation really. He is either really modest or just tries to hide the fact that he's the most powerful in the nation. Or both. Honestly I'm not even sure of what to say about this, I just had to add it here because Neuvillette said it and I'm in whoo for him.

Him🤝Zhongli , fancy talking and acting like they don't have supreme power.

Last thought: this trailer was so powerful and sad over all. I'm expecting the archon quest to be an emotional rollercoaster with one or two emotional punches. I just know Neuvillette story will make me sob. Just look at him.

p.s. : I saw someone pointing out that the creators said that Neuvillette made a law so that the Melusines to be addressed as she/her and that fills my heart with joy. Neuvillette is shown to be oh so powerful and 'born from calamity' or whatever and yet he's one of the sweetest and kindest characters. 🫶🏼

Conclusion: i love neuvillette and idc about false accusations 😊🫶🏼

[kylelovskii]

the real question is Kyle more or less of a lil shit once he gets the girl? like you can't tell me that boy doesn't own a remote controlled vibe... -mk anon

this request is so old but IDC!!!!

and he does. 100%.

i wrote this half asleep so im sorry if it sucks and if there’s errors

“cmon, pretty thing. just once? i promise i won’t use it much, and if i do, i won’t turn it up so high.”

liar. fucking liar.

kyle had sweet talked you into putting a vibrator inside yourself, then going to a party with all of the guys. he promised he wouldn’t turn it on very much, he just wanted to test it out, and you believed him, which is why you let him. but you were so, so wrong.

—

there you stood, talking with wendy and bebe. everything was going perfect, and you really thought kyle had just forgotten about it, but then you felt the slightest sensation between your legs go to not so slight.

your hand flew to your mouth, which caused wendy to stop mid sentence and look at you. “hey, are you okay? you look like you’re about to be sick,” she asked. you nodded frantically. “yeah—yes! ah— i just— um..got a sharp..c—cramp in my stomach. i’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you replied before rushing off, trying not to let whines and whimpers escape from your mouth.

you rounded a corner into a hallway where, thankfully, no one was. you sighed loudly, sinking down to the floor. “oh god, kyle— stop, stop, stop…”

“what’s that? stop what?” you heard a voice come from down the hall. you snapped your head into the direction of the noise.

there kyle stood, his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants and his glasses perched upon his nose. you looked him up and down, noticing how his white wife beater hugged his waist perfectly.

“you— you said you wouldn’t do it much. and that if you did— it wouldn’t be so high!” you said, not even bothering to stand up and go to him. instead, he came to you and knelt down, taking your chin in his hand. “oh, i guess i tricked you. poor girl.”

then he grabbed your hand and pulled you up. “why don’t we go back to the party, huh? i think our friends miss us. i don’t think it would be very polite to abandon everyone just so i could toy with you,” he said as he led you back to the group he was originally with. as you walked, the vibrations slowly came to a halt. when it stopped, you sighed in relief.

kyle held your hand as he spoke with cartman, the two of them bantering while kenny and stan just listened, laughing at the smart remarks that came out of one of the others mouth. you listened as well, letting out a giggle or two, but then kyle turned the toy to its highest setting.

your knees almost buckled underneath you, and you let out an audible gasp which turned into a whine. “oh, honey, what’s the matter?” kyle asked, rushing to your aid. you gave him a look, then lied and said, “my stomach hurts, kyle.”

everyone looked at the two of you confused, but then kyle excused the both of you so he could 'help you'.

he dragged you into a bathroom, locked the door, then picked you up and set you on the counter. he forced your legs open, then moved your panties to the side to look at your glittering cunt.

your skirt bunched up at your stomach as he kneeled between your legs. he didn’t do anything, he just looked up at you and dirty talked you.

“see? look at you. you’re such a good girl, but i bet you’d rather me do this in front of all our friends. especially cartman, huh? that right, doll?” you shook your head quickly, telling him no.

“awh, baby don’t deny it. you may be a good girl for me, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a little slut, right?” you shook your head again, whining and squirming, trying to close your legs. “no— nonono!”

“come on, take it for me. i know you can. be a good whore and take it. quit tryin' to close your legs,” kyle said, keeping your legs open with both his hands.

“please— i..oh god—” you groaned before your orgasm washed over you, your legs twitching and your hands flying to kyle’s hair.

as you came down from your high, you heard kyle speak, “wow that was quick. good job, baby. come on, i’ll clean you up and get that thing outta you,” he told you, helping you off the counter, then sitting you down on the toilet seat and running the water in the sink.

[thewulf]

Through Your Eyes || Simon "Ghost" Riley

Summary: Request -I'm thinking a military TF 141 reader where she and Ghost are tiptoeing the line between friendship and something more (you write it soooo well!) and maybe one night she's just feeling lonely/homesick - she really only sees the guys anymore since they're always working - so she decides to get a lil tipsy in her room... Read Rest Here

A/N: Probably the most OOC Ghost we'll see but idc he's soft and I love it. Enjoy!

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader

Word Count: 9.5k + (They keep getting longer lmao)

TW: Drinking our issues away

In the quiet confines of your room on base the night stretches out like a silent, unending void. England, with its overcast skies and endless drizzle, feels worlds away from the sun-drenched horizons of your hometown in America. Here the walls are a dull grey. The only decoration a faded photograph of your family, smiling. A stark reminder of what you’ve left behind.

You sit on the edge of your narrow bed with a glass of whiskey cradled in your hands. The ice was slowly melting, mirroring the monotonous drip of time passing. The soft buzz of the base’s nighttime activities filters through your closed door. It was a constant reminder that life goes on even when parts of you have stalled.

Loneliness clings to you like a second skin. Homesickness gnaws at your insides. The jokes shared and the meals eaten together are supposed to bring comfort, but tonight they're not enough. The laughter feels distant. The smiles seem forced through your filter of sadness. You miss the ease of being understood in your own home. The comfort of familiar streets. The casual meetups with friends who knew you before you were a soldier.

Most of all you miss the simple, irreplaceable connections that once filled your days. You long for the nights out with your girlfriends, their laughter and stories echoing in your ears. A drastic difference to the tactical discussions that now dominate your evenings. The absence of your mother's voice, once a daily comfort, now feels like a missing chord in the symphony of your life. It’s not like you didn’t try and talk with her but the time difference made it nearly impossible.

The loneliness is compounded by the intimacy you crave but lack. You longed for a partner to share quiet moments with. Someone whose mere presence could turn the coldest nights warm. Here, among soldiers, your vulnerability remains hidden. Your longing for tenderness a silent scream in the night.

Lately you’ve found yourself envying Captain Price. Whenever he talks about going home to his family, a pang of jealousy tightens your chest. He returns to love, to embraces, to conversations that have nothing to do with war. His normalcy seems like a distant dream, and you crave it with every fiber of your being.

As the whiskey warms your throat it brings a slight haze to your thoughts. A part of you wonders if you made the right decision. Did you trade your past and your peace for a purpose that now feels too heavy to shoulder alone? The drink wasn’t soothing like you craved. Instead, it sharpened the edges of your solitude. It highlighted the deep yearning for something, or someone, to call home.

As the evening stretches into the deeper hours of the night your thoughts begin to swirl as much as the whiskey in your glass. Desperate for a distraction from the creeping melancholy you find yourself reaching for your phone. A dangerous idea forming amidst the softening edges of your loneliness.

The glow of your phone screen seems harsh against the dim lighting of your room. Scrolling through your contacts your thumb hovers over Ghost's name. He’s always been solid, dependable. Perhaps too much so, you think, a slight smile playing at the edges of your lips. With a reckless flicker of courage fueled by the whiskey warming your veins you tap out a somewhat flirty message. A far cry from your usual sober texts. Evening, Ghosty. Bet you can't guess what I’m up to right now…

You hit send before you can second guess yourself.

Seconds tick by, morphing into the longest minute as you stare at the screen. Your heart racing as you wait for a reply. Instead of a text though your phone starts buzzing underneath your fingertips. Ghost is calling you! Panic and excitement flutter in your chest. This isn't what you expected. You decline the call without a second though setting it face down as if it could hide your sudden nerves.

But the phone buzzes again almost immediately, Ghost’s name flashing insistently. He’s not giving up. He’d never give up if you didn’t answer now. That just wasn’t his nature. Taking a deep breath, you flip the phone back over and press answer before bringing it up to your ear. "Hey," your voice is more playful than intended, the alcohol lending you a bubbly tone.

"Everything alright?" Ghost's voice is laced with concern. His usual calm edged with tension.

"Yeah, just couldn’t sleep," you giggle not realizing how tipsy you actually were. It was a sound that feels both foreign and delightful to your ears.

"You sure? It’s not like you to text like this... this late." His probing is gentle. But you can sense him on edge trying to read the situation.

"I’m perfectly fine, Ghosty," you drawl out the nickname only he would let you use with a teasing lilt, stretching the words playfully.

"Are you drunk?" His tone a tinge worried mixed with a faint amusement.

"No!” You reply immediately but after silence on the other side of the line you continue. “Maybe just a smidge tipsy," you admit. You heard him exhale sharply on the other end—part relief, part exasperation.

There's a brief pause before his laughter filters through, easing the tension on his side of the line. "Alright then, I’m coming over. Don’t move."

"Oh no! you don’t have to! I’m just enjoying a bit of liquid courage," you protest him. Your words dancing with mock seriousness.

"I think I better check on you in person. Stay put," he commands softly. A firm undercurrent in his voice that brooks no argument.

"Okay," you acquiesce with your tone still light, teasing. As you hang up a smile tugs at your lips. Maybe what you really needed wasn’t to dull the ache of loneliness but to stir a bit of excitement. And who better than Ghost to share that with?

When you first joined Task Force 141 the transition was expected to be challenging, especially with the unit's tight-knit and often closed-off nature. However, what no one anticipated was the immediate and inexplicable closeness that formed between you and Simon Riley, your Ghosty.

From the outset, Ghost, known for his stoic demeanor and laser-focused professionalism took an uncharacteristically soft approach with you. It was as if he sensed you needed a mentor, or perhaps something within him responded to your arrival on a level he hadn't anticipated. His usual reserve melted somewhat in your presence. His guidance more patient and his words often tinged with a protective tone. This shift in him didn't go unnoticed. It raised eyebrows among the rest of TF 141, sparking whispers and speculation. Even Ghost himself seemed taken aback by his own behavior as if he was watching himself from a distance unable to reconcile this newfound softness with his hardened warrior persona.

You brought something different to the team. You brought a warmth and a kindness that radiated naturally. Your approach to handling both the missions and interpersonal relationships within the unit was refreshingly human. Where others respected Ghost for his tactical brilliance and saw him as a near-unflappable soldier. You engaged with him as a person first and foremost. You asked him questions about his day, showed interest in the small details. And sometimes you just offered a quiet presence when words were too cumbersome.

This human connection was something Ghost hadn't realized he was missing until you arrived. Your sweetness, your unguarded way of interacting not just with him but with everyone, gradually broke down the walls he had built around himself. You saw beyond the mask—both literal and metaphorical—to the complex man beneath. It was this genuine understanding and acceptance from you that deepened his affection and protectiveness. It fostered a friendship that was both surprising and profoundly meaningful.

In your interactions Ghost found a sanctuary in you. Each dialogue, each shared silence, reinforced something vital between the two of you. A sense of belonging and mutual respect that neither of you had anticipated but both secretly yearned for. Ghost's initial decision to take you under his wing, driven by an instinctive pull, blossomed into a relationship where both of you found solace, understanding, and ultimately a love that neither the harshness of your environment nor the specter of past wounds could diminish.

The wait for Ghost to come to your room feels almost interminable. Each minute ticking by slower than the last as the shadows in your room seem to deepen, mirroring your mood. Just as you start to second-guess your impulsive invitation a soft knock at the door jolts you from your somber thoughts. It's a sound too gentle for someone like Ghost whose presence is usually more commanding. But then again, he's always full of surprises.

You pad over to the door, your steps hesitant, and open it to find him there. His posture rigid, familiar balaclava in place, his eyes immediately searching yours for signs of distress. "Hey, Tex," he greets with a softness that belies the hardness of his profession. Using the nickname that feels like a balm and a sting all at once.

It was cute, the origin of the nickname only he used on you. One evening after a long day of training with TF 141 you and Ghost found yourselves alone tasked with checking and maintaining equipment. The work was meticulous and quiet offering a rare opportunity for more personal conversation. A rarity given the usual intensity of your environment.

As you both worked the conversation naturally drifted to lighter topics and you shared a humorous story about a road trip mishap you had years ago. You ended up mistakenly driving into Texas instead of your intended destination due to a mix-up with GPS directions. You recounted the events with such animated detail and humor. Making sure to mention how you ended up enjoying some of the best barbecue and meeting some incredibly friendly locals that it left a lasting impression on you.

Ghost listened intently with a rare smile playing on his lips as he worked. When you jokingly concluded that you might have been a Texan in another life because of how seamlessly you blended into the culture during your unintended visit, Ghost chuckled. It was a sound so scarce it marked the significance of the moment.

From then on he started calling you "Tex" in a teasing yet affectionate manner. It was his way of referencing that story which had not only entertained him but also revealed your ability to adapt and find joy in unexpected situations. The nickname stuck between the two of you as it became a symbol of your resilience and the easy friensdship that had developed between the two of you.

Each time Ghost called you "Tex” it was with a tone that mixed fondness and a hint of admiration reminding both of you of that shared moment of laughter and your storytelling prowess. This private joke between you became a subtle yet constant affirmation of the bond you were building. A bond based on shared stories, mutual respect, and an emerging deep, personal connection.

"Hi, Ghosty," you manage with your voice barely above a whisper. You step aside to let him in, but as you do, the use of 'Tex' makes your heart clench painfully. Your smile falters, a frown etching itself across your face as you're vividly reminded of what you're missing.

He notices the shift in your demeanor immediately. The way your eyes dart away from his gaze. "What's going on?" he asks as he steps inside making sure to close the door behind him with a quiet click. His voice is low, laced with a concern that makes your heart ache even more. "It's not like you to drink alone, without us," he adds. His tone soft but probing. This observation hits a nerve. Highlighting how out of character your actions seem tonight.

You can't meet his eyes, not yet, not when they're so filled with worry and understanding. "It’s my brother's birthday today," you confess with your voice cracking slightly. "I got a picture from my family. They're all there, celebrating... and I’m here." The words hang heavy in the air laden with a sadness that feels too big to contain.

Ghost steps back a little giving you space. "Let's sit down," he suggests gently nodding towards your bed. You move to sit on the edge, and he joins you. He maintained a respectful distance with his posture open and inviting you to continue.

You finally glance over at him and the tears that you've been holding back start to blur your vision. "I miss them, Ghost. I miss being part of those moments. It feels like I’m losing time, losing them..."

He listens in silence, but his presence was steady. "You’re not losing them, Tex. Not really. But I get it… it’s hard to miss out. You belong here with us though. It’s okay to wish you were there too."

At his words a ripple of uncertainty courses through you. "Do I really belong?" you find yourself questioning aloud. The words spilling out before you can hold them back. Your voice is tinged with an unusual vulnerability you’re so good at hiding, "Sometimes I feel like I'm a world away, like I don't quite fit anywhere anymore."

Ghost turns to look at you completely. His gaze intense even through the shadows cast by his balaclava. Noticing the sadness deepening in your eyes he softens his tone further addressing you more personally. "I know it feels that way sometimes, Y/N," he acknowledges using your first name in a rare break from nicknames signaling his serious concern. "But you've made a place for yourself here, with us. It’s not just about the missions. It’s about the moments we share, the tough days we get through together. You’re as much a part of this team as anyone is."

His reassurance carries weight, but the hollow feeling doesn’t dissipate completely. You nod, appreciating his effort to make you feel included. Yet part of you still wrestles with the feeling of displacement. It's comforting to have someone who understands, who sees the struggle and still stands by your side affirming your place even when you doubt it yourself. Tonight, Ghost isn't just a shadowy figure or a call sign. He's the anchor you didn't realize you needed.

The room grows quieter, the only sound the distant hum of the base's nocturnal life. You reach for the whiskey glass that had been forgotten during the initial turmoil of Ghost's arrival. Tilting the glass, you take a long, deliberate drink seeking the false courage it offers. The burn a temporary distraction from the ache inside.

Ghost watches you for a moment. His expression is unreadable behind the balaclava, yet his eyes—a deep well of understanding—never leave your face. “It’s okay to feel lost sometimes, Y/N. It doesn’t mean you’re alone,” he finally says with a soft but firm voice.

You nod, feeling the alcohol loosen your tongue and the tightness in your chest. "I just feel so guilty all the time, Ghost," you admit before setting the glass down with a little more force than necessary. "Everyone here has been nothing but supportive, and here I am upset because I missed a birthday party across the ocean."

He shifts slightly turning to face you more directly. There’s a pause, a breath of a moment where he seems to be choosing his words carefully. "Guilt is a heavy burden to carry, Y/N. And it’s a familiar one to me too. We've all had moments when we felt like we're not giving enough. Not present enough for those we left behind."

Seeing him open up about his own struggles is unexpectedly comforting. It's rare for Ghost to talk about his feelings and even rarer still to admit any weakness. His willingness to share that with you now tightens something in your throat.

"Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it," you whisper unsure if you actually wanted him to hear your admission.

He reaches out to you. His hand hesitating in the air before gently landing on your shoulder. It was a small, uncharacteristic gesture of comfort. "We chose this life because we believed in something greater than ourselves," he starts. His voice steady. "Doesn't make the personal sacrifices any lighter, but it does give them meaning. And Y/N, you bring your own meaning to this team. More than you know."

Tears brim in your eyes, spilling over despite your best efforts. You're not usually this open, this raw, but with him, it feels safe, necessary even. "I just miss being sure of things, you know? Being sure of where I belong, sure of who needs me..."

Ghost nods, his hand squeezing your shoulder slightly. "I get that. But here’s what I’m sure of—you're needed here, more than you might see. Not just as a soldier, but as you, Y/N. Just by being here you make things better for everyone. For me."

Your breath hiccups at his words, at the honesty and the raw edge in his voice. In this quiet, vulnerable space, you both share more than just words. You share understanding, burdens, and silently, the beginning of something deeper, something neither of you might fully grasp yet. As the conversation drifts into a comfortable silence, you realize that tonight you didn't just find a confidant in Ghost. You found a mirror for your own vulnerabilities, and perhaps, a reason to keep fighting. Not just for the missions but for these moments of unexpected connection.

Tears trickle down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden as Ghost's words sink deep. His affirmation, his understanding, it hits a part of you that's been raw and exposed for far too long. He looks at you. His eyes softening under the rim of his balaclava and it's as if he sees right through to the heart of your pain.

"Come here, love," he murmurs. His voice a gentle command that stirs something deep within you. He opens his arms and it's an invitation you can't resist—not tonight. You move almost instinctively. Your body responding before your mind can catch up. You find yourself climbing into his lap without so much as a second thought. His arms encircle you, strong and sure, and you melt into him. His chest is a solid wall against your cheek, you breathe him in, the faint scent of gunpowder and mint somehow reassuring and exactly what you needed.

He's so much bigger and stronger than you. An immovable presence that you've only ever admired from a distance. And he's Ghost—your not-so-secret crush, the man behind the mask, whose face you've never seen but whose soul you felt like you completely understood. As his arms tighten around you, holding you close, it's more than comfort. It's a need fulfilled. The simple yet profound need to be held, to feel wanted, to have someone not just willing but wanting to hold you.

You let yourself be held by him. The steady beat of his heart beneath your ear a soothing rhythm in the chaos of your emotions. His hand strokes your back gently. A soothing contrast to the strength of his arms, and you feel safe, protected in a way that goes beyond physical safety. Ghost isn't just a teammate, or a mysterious figure shrouded in intrigue. He's the person who understands your loneliness, your longing, and meets it with his own kind of longing. A connection that perhaps he's been craving too.

The weight of everything—the base, the missions, the distance from home—seems to lift slightly making room for something new, something hopeful. As you nestle closer, letting yourself sink into the warmth and strength of his embrace. You realize that this closeness is something you've been missing. Something you've been needing without even knowing it. And maybe, just maybe, he needed it too.

Cuddled securely in Ghost's embrace you find a moment of peace amidst the swirl of emotions. Slowly, you tilt your head up to look at him with a small smile blossoming across your face. The intimacy of the moment, the rare closeness with someone you've both feared and admired from afar ignites a warmth that had been absent for too long.

"What, love?" Ghost asks after noticing your gentle smile. His voice is tender yet tinged with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

You shake your head with the smile still playing on your lips ever so reluctant to break the comfortable silence that's settled between you. But he's persistent, definitely not satisfied with your silent amusement. "Come on, what is it?" he presses. His tone gentle yet insistent, coaxing you to share the secret of your smile.

When you answer him it’s the last thing he expected. "You have blonde eyelashes," you murmur, almost to yourself. The observation slipping out before you can think better of it. "You're a blondie, Ghosty."

He shakes his head at you with a subtle chuckle barely audible, his gaze holding a flicker of amusement that surprises you. "Blondie, huh?" he remarks. The words dry but with an underlying warmth that feels rare and genuine. "Never figured that'd be the thing to get noticed," he adds, his tone maintaining that typical Ghost edge—cool, composed, yet unexpectedly tender.

The playful comment, light and teasing, helps to bridge the gap between your roles within TF 141 and who you are beneath the surface. His chuckle fills you with an inexplicable joy, lightening the emotional weight of the night.

Encouraged by this lighter moment, he shifts slightly, adjusting his hold on you, making sure you're more comfortable in his lap. "You know," he starts again in a thoughtful tone, "I find it interesting what people notice when they really look."

This new dynamic in your conversation allows both of you to explore this newfound closeness without the heavier undertones of your earlier emotions. It's a welcome reprieve, a chance to see each other in a new light. And perhaps to start building something uniquely personal and intimate from the shared vulnerabilities and now your shared laughter. Relishing the warmth of his embrace and buoyed by the lightness of the moment there’s a playful boldness that's unlike you but feels just right for now. With a mischievous tilt of your head, you look up at him once more. Your eyes were sparkling with a mix of flirtation and genuine curiosity.

"Should've paid more attention to you, huh?" you tease. Your voice soft yet audacious. "Bet you're real pretty under that mask Ghosty."

The words hang in the air, utterly bold and flirtatious, marking a departure from your usual reserve. Ghost pauses at that. The slight tension in his posture the only sign that your comment has caught him off guard. Yet there's a hint of amusement in his eyes. A spark that suggests your boldness might not be unwelcome.

His response is slow, deliberate, as if measuring the weight of your words and his next move. "Maybe one day you'll find out love," he replies, his voice low, a tease laced with a promise that sends a thrill through you.

The exchange was daring and filled with undercurrents of mutual interest. It adds a new layer to the atmosphere, thick with potential and unspoken possibilities. As you nestle even closer to him you feel the solid certainty of his arms around you. You can't help but feel that tonight might just be the beginning of something unexpected and exhilarating. A far departure from how you were feeling even just an hour prior.

As you rest your head against his chest, feeling the thrum of his quickening heartbeat, Ghost finds himself at a crossroads of vulnerability and longing. The playful flirtation, the warmth of your body against his… it's stirring emotions within him that he usually keeps locked away under layers of discipline and duty.

"A girl can dream, hmm?" Your words were light yet laden with unspoken wishes. They echo in his heart. He tightens his hold on you further. A protective gesture that also serves to reassure himself. You're trusting him in a way that no one else does, reaching out for comfort and perhaps more.

Ghost takes a deep breath, the fabric of his balaclava stretching slightly with the movement. The thought of removing the mask, of showing you the scars that mar his face, the physical reminders of battles fought and narrowly survived, suddenly feels less daunting. He adores you, more than he's willing to admit aloud. And that adoration mixed with trust makes him consider revealing his true self.

In this moment Ghost's internal conflict is palpable. He's been grappling with the idea of showing you his face for some time. A gesture that holds significant weight given the secretive and guarded nature of his life. The scars, which he typically regards as badges of survival and resilience, suddenly morph into vulnerabilities when he thinks about revealing them to you. This is not just about physical appearance. It's about letting someone into the most guarded parts of his existence.

Ghost's decision to consider this step now isn't just a spur-of-the-moment choice. It's been building up. You represent a safe haven for him. Someone who might understand and accept his past and the physical evidence of it without judgment. It's this trust and the depth of his feelings for you that push him toward vulnerability. The act of removing the balaclava would symbolize his willingness to lower his defenses and invite you into a more intimate, authentic part of his life. A significant leap for someone whose identity is so closely tied to his role as an elite operative.

In essence, the potential unveiling is more than revealing his face; it's an invitation into his deeper self, a crucial step in any meaningful relationship, intensified here by the layers of his hidden world.

"You know," he starts, his voice a delicate blend of resolve and hesitation, "sometimes, what we dream of isn't as far out of reach as we think." His statement was laden with vulnerability and causes your heart to swell with empathy and affection for this man who has faced so much yet stands so strong before you.

As Ghost's hands hover tentatively at the edge of his mask, the weight of his decision palpable in the air, your eyes meet his with a depth of understanding and gentleness. His fingers, curled around the fabric, pause as he seems to search your face for the reassurance he needs to move forward.

He continues, his voice lowering further, almost unsure by his bold actions. "If I show you, promise me something. Promise me you'll see beyond the scars." The sincerity and slight fear in his voice tug at you, compelling you to act. To reassure him in any way you can.

You reach out slowly, your hand moving to cover his where it still grips the mask. Your touch is light but firm, grounding, a physical manifestation of your support. "You don't have to do this," you whisper back. Your voice gentle but earnest. "I never want to push you if you're uncomfortable."

As you speak your other hand moves up instinctively giving his bicep a gentle squeeze. A silent message of reassurance and strength. "Whatever you’re ready to share, whenever you’re ready, that’s okay with me. I just want you to feel safe, not just with me but for yourself too."

Your words and the warm pressure of your hands convey everything you feel—your respect for his boundaries, your readiness to accept him as he is, and your desire to ensure his comfort above all. You smile softly hoping to convey a sense of peace and acceptance, wanting him to feel the depth of your care without any pressure.

Ghost looks down at your hands. Your much smaller fingers were intertwined with his, feeling the warmth and strength from your touch. The physical connection seems to bolster him, providing a tangible sense of support and acceptance. After a moment, he gives a small nod. An acknowledgment of your words and the comfort they bring. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Ghosty.” You assure him.

Before you can continue Ghost places a finger over your lips silencing your gentle flood of reassurances. His touch is light but there’s a decisiveness in his gesture that catches your attention. Looking into your eyes with a newfound intensity, he tilts his head slightly with a hint of a challenge in his gaze. "But what if I want to?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

His question hangs in the air loaded with possibilities and the promise of a deeper connection. His eyes search yours, looking for an answer, permission, understanding. “If you’re sure.” You looked into his eyes searching for any sort of doubt, but you couldn’t seem to find any.

Ghost's hand reaches up slowly, the weight of the decision evident in every measured movement. His fingers were rough and calloused from years of wielding weapons and facing harsh conditions. They tremble slightly as they hook around the edge of the balaclava. There's a moment's hesitation. A silent plea in his eyes as they lock onto yours, seeking reassurance. Your nod is gentle but firm, encouraging.

With a deep, steadying breath that lifts his chest and fills the air with anticipation, he pulls the fabric up and away from his face. The mask slides over his nose, past scars, and weathered skin, and finally clears his sharp jawline. The reveal is gradual with each inch of skin exposed adding layers to the man you've come to know. His scars map out a history of survival and silent battles.

As the balaclava comes off completely he allows it to drop from his fingers. His gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, he stands bare—not just physically but emotionally too. The vulnerability displayed in this act deepens everything between you profoundly. Ghost, the soldier fades into the background allowing the man behind the mask, marked by life but standing resilient, to shine through.

You see him clearly now. Not just as the formidable operative known as Ghost, but Simon, marked by his past but not defined by it. This shared moment of vulnerability cements a deeper connection. A space where truths are acknowledged without words and where your understanding and acceptance begin to kindle something far more profound than either of you had anticipated.

"Simon," you whisper. His name a gentle caress in the quiet of the room. The air between you thickens with vulnerability and you notice a slight tension in his posture. The uncertainty in his eyes. It's clear he's nervous, unaccustomed to such openness, to being seen so completely.

"May I?" you ask softly requesting permission not just to touch him but to bridge the final gap between your mutual vulnerabilities. At his hesitant nod you move closer. In a bold move you straddle his lap to minimize the distance. Your hands rise to his face, gentle and reassuring. As your fingers trace the texture of his scars you watch each reaction flicker across his features. Fleeting moments of surprise, of relief, of something tender blooming underneath.

As you study Simon’s unmasked face your heart surges with a deep and profound respect. The air between you feels charged with the significance of this moment as he allows himself to be seen, truly seen, perhaps for the first time in too long.

"Look at you," you whisper to him. Your voice laced with warmth and awe. You gaze at him more lovingly than even he could have anticipated. Your fingers gently trace the contours of his face. Your touch light but filled with intent, meant to comfort, and reassure him in his vulnerability. "You're so incredibly strong, Simon."

As your thumbs smooth over his cheeks, you can feel him relax slightly under your touch. His usual guardedness giving way to a tentative acceptance of your care. "And you’re beautiful. So handsome." you continue, each word deliberate and sincere. "Not despite these scars but because of them. They're not just marks. They're medals of your courage. Symbols of your endurance."

Simon's breath caught in his throat as he absorbed your words. No one had ever looked at him this way before. Seen him so completely and accepted him so fully. The barriers he had meticulously built around himself seemed to crumble under the gentle touch of your fingers and the sincere love in your voice. In this moment, stripped of his mask and the persona of Ghost, Simon felt truly seen. The fear that had knotted in his chest began to dissolve instead replaced by a warmth that spread through him, kindling a connection that went beyond the physical, touching something deep within his soul.

"Every line," you continued tracing one gently with your fingertip, "tells a story of survival, of fights bravely fought, of a life fiercely lived. They make you... uniquely you." Your voice is thick with admiration. Your eyes were locked in on his ensuring he feels the weight of your words.

Simon looks back at you, visibly moved. His eyes, usually a fortress of stoic resolve, now shimmer slightly with unshed tears. The walls he's built around himself seem to tremble under the warmth of your gaze and the sincerity in your voice. At your words, Simon's eyes hold yours. A mixture of awe and something that looks a lot like relief. You lean in with your forehead resting against his, sharing a breath, sharing a moment of profound connection.

Simon finds himself at the mercy of a cascade of emotions with feelings he's tightly regulated and kept at bay through years of training and harsh realities. As he looks into your eyes—eyes filled with genuine care and admiration—he experiences a vulnerability that is both terrifying and exhilarating.

Inside, Simon is grappling with a mix of disbelief and wonder. The walls he's constructed around his heart, built to protect, and isolate, are wavering under the gentle but persistent tide of your compassion. Each word you speak, each tender touch, challenges his long-held beliefs about himself and his worth. The fortress of stoic resolve that has always been his shield is now nearly crumbled by the warmth of your gaze. In the understanding in your voice.

Can she truly see something in me that I've failed to recognize? he wonders silently baffled by the idea that his scars and battles, which he has always viewed as disfigurements and burdens, could be seen as marks of beauty and strength. Your touch of tracing his face with such intimate loving care doesn't just map the physical contours of his scars but also traces the deeper emotional wounds he's carried silently for so long.

As your forehead rests against his, sharing this profound moment of connection, Simon feels a shift within himself. A melting of ice that he didn't realize had encased his heart. The feeling of being understood, truly and deeply, without the need for masks or defenses is profoundly disarming. It stirs something in him that feels dangerously close to hope, to love.

In the quiet of this shared moment Simon begins to accept the possibility that he may not only be capable of loving but that he is already deep in the throes of it especially after witnessing the care and devotion with which you regard him. It's a realization that brings both fear and a surprising relief. The kind of relief that comes from finally settling down a heavy burden he hadn't fully acknowledged carrying.

Amidst these revelations he feels a gratitude that tightens his throat. An overwhelming appreciation for the woman before him who sees beyond the surface, who sees him not as a collection of scars and stories, but as a whole person worthy of love and affection. This connection, this acceptance, it's something he's longed for without even realizing it. And now faced with its reality he's both humbled and profoundly moved.

"You see all this in me?" he finally managed to ask with his voice barely above a whisper. As if speaking louder might break the spell of this intimate exchange.

"It breaks my heart that you don't, Si," you respond softly. Your voice laced with both sadness and affection. It's rare for you to use that nickname, but in this moment it feels just right. Intimate and genuine.

As your fingers maintain their gentle contact on his face Simon feels a surge of emotions that almost overwhelms him. Your words were so full of sincerity and depth and pierce through the layers of self-doubt and isolation he has wrapped around himself for so long. "You should see yourself the way I see you. Not just for what you’ve been through but for who you are because of it. You’re remarkable, Simon. And yes, I see all of this and so much more." Each word resonates within him, echoing in the spaces he's kept guarded and hidden from the world.

As he absorbs the weight of your affirmation Simon's heart feels like it could burst from the sheer intensity of what he's experiencing. It's as if your words have unlocked something within him. A floodgate opening to reveal depths of emotion he had long disregarded as unreachable. The shock of realizing that he can feel so deeply that he might indeed love and be loved in return washes over him with an almost palpable force.

For years Simon has compartmentalized his emotions viewing them as potential weaknesses in the unforgiving environments he's navigated. But now being held by your gaze and touched by your understanding he finds himself reconsidering everything he thought he knew about his capacity for emotion. The realization that he does love you and that he has perhaps loved you in ways he hadn't allowed himself to fully acknowledge comes as both a shock and a beautiful revelation.

As he exhales softly, releasing the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, a mix of relief and wonder fills him. The connection you share seems to solidify into something tangible, something real and powerful. Your ability to see him—not just the soldier, not just the scars, but Simon, the man behind the mask—instills in him a newfound sense of worthiness and belonging. In the warmth of your touch and the earnestness of your words Simon finds a new perspective on himself and his place in the world. It's as if your belief in him has lent him the strength to believe in himself. To accept the possibility of a future shaped not by solitude and sacrifice but by love and mutual understanding.

This emotional turning point is not just a revelation of his feelings for you but an awakening to the idea that he can be loved for all that he is, scars and strengths alike. As he looks into your eyes filled with appreciation and a dawning recognition of his worth. Simon knows that whatever the future holds it has been irrevocably altered by the truth and beauty of this moment.

As the emotional weight of the moment hangs between you, you sense the intensity overwhelming Simon in the wake of his newfound realizations. To lighten the mood and bring a touch of levity back into the exchange you offer him a radiant, genuine smile. Your eyes sparkle with affection and a playful teasing tone colors your voice as you look into his eyes which are now more open and vulnerable than ever.

“I was right though,” you say with a quiet giggle as your smile broadened “You are real pretty under that mask.”

Simon's eyes light up at your playful remark. A spark of joy dancing in them as he absorbs the lighter mood you've introduced. His smile spreads across his face softening the lines and scars that mark his experiences. The laughter you share serves as a reminder of the normalcy and comfort that can exist even in moments filled with deep emotional revelations.

After the laughter subsides Simon's expression turns tender. His eyes still holding yours with an intensity that speaks volumes. Leaning in slightly, the proximity bridging any remaining space between you. He mirrors your intimate gesture with one of his own. His hand, previously resting cautiously at his side, now reaches up to gently cup your face. The touch is soft but deliberate. Filled with affection and a newfound confidence.

"You've always seen more than most," Simon says. His voice low and filled with emotion. "Not just the surface, but the stories and the scars beneath. For that, I’m more grateful than I can express."

He pauses, his thumb now tracing the contour of your cheek in a slow, affectionate caress. "And you," Simon continues with his voice softening further. Softer than you’ve ever heard with a gentle sincerity underscoring his words, "are truly beautiful. In ways that go beyond what's visible. Your strength, your compassion… it shines through in everything you do."

The intimacy of his touch and his words draw you even closer, knitting your connection tighter. Simon's actions reveal his comfort and trust in you. Showcasing his willingness to not only accept the love and acceptance offered but to return it in kind. In this shared space, filled with genuine smiles and soft touches, the foundation of your relationship deepens. It promised a future where both laughter and earnest declarations have a place.

Your heart now feels as if it might burst right out of your chest. Simon’s words, laden with genuine admiration for who you are beyond the surface, touch you profoundly. You've always felt a strong connection with him but hearing him articulate his appreciation for your inner qualities. It's overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

A single tear escapes without your permission tracing a path down your cheek, not out of sadness but from the sheer intensity of emotion swirling within you. Simon notices the tear and his expression softens further. Gently, he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. His touch tender and filled with utmost concern.

As Simon's gentle fingers brush away the tear from your cheek the sweet gesture triggers something deep within you. The floodgates open and a rush of emotions surge forward. You feel an overwhelming mix of relief, gratitude, and a profound connection that you've never experienced so intensely before. Each tear that falls feels like a release of feelings too long held back.

Noticing your distress Simon acts with instinctive care. He gently guides you back into his lap wrapping his strong arms around you. The closeness of his embrace feels like a sanctuary as you nestle into his chest, letting your tears flow freely. Simon rocks you gently. His presence a calming force in the storm of your emotions. "It's okay, it'll all be okay," he murmurs soothingly, his voice a steady, comforting rumble against your ear. Each word he whispers is a balm, helping to steady your shaking breaths as you cry it all out. The built-up emotions washing over you.

After a few moments as the tide of your tears begins to subside, you lift your head to look up at him. Simon meets your gaze with a gentle smile. The softness in his eyes reflecting his deep care for you. "You alright, love?" he asks full of concern and affection for you.

You nod slowly, still nestled in the safety of Simon's embrace. The warmth from his body lending you calm. "I'm sorry, I just got overwhelmed," you explain with your voice barely above a whisper. The flood of emotions was unexpected yet not unwelcome. "It's just... all of this, hearing how you see me. Being this close to you," you continue as your eyes searched his for understanding. "It means so much to me, Simon. More than I can really express."

Simon's smile is genuine as he watches you. Understanding flickering in his eyes as he gently rocks you, keeping you close. "There's nothing to apologize for, love," he reassures you. His voice a steady presence. "It’s okay to feel this deeply. It's okay to let it show. I don’t mind a bit."

His words, affirming and gentle, help to steady the last remnants of your emotional whirlwind. As you slowly pull back to look at him again his hand remains comforting on your back, always reassuring.

"You alright now?" he asks after a moment of watching you closely. His voice low and husky.

Nodding, you manage a more composed smile this time, touched by his patience and care. "Yes, I'm alright. Thank you, Simon. For being here. For understanding," you say with gratitude coloring your tone.

Simon’s response is a tender squeeze of his arms around you. A nonverbal promise of his continued support. "Always," he murmurs. The simplicity of that single word carries with it the weight of his commitment.

In this quiet space held in Simon's arms you realize the strength that lies in vulnerability and the beauty of being seen and accepted. It’s a profound moment between the two of you. One that you both will cherish as a cornerstone of your relationship, built on understanding, respect, and heartfelt emotion.

As you rest quietly in Simon's embrace, comforted by his gentle rocking and the soothing timbre of his voice, you notice a subtle shift in his demeanor. His gaze usually so guarded and controlled now holds an unmistakable depth of emotion. The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the rawness of your tears seems to have broken down the last barriers he had in place.

Simon takes a deep breath as if steeling himself to cross a threshold he's been guarding for too long. "Seeing you like this, feeling so much right alongside you... it's made me realize something," he starts. His voice thick with emotion. His eyes lock onto yours deciding not to hold anything back. "I… I need you to know."

He pauses ensuring he has your full attention. His hands still gently cradling you. "I want to be there for you, not just now but always. I want to be the one you lean on, the one who gets to see all the sides of you, the beautiful, the tough, the vulnerable." His words pour out, fervent and sincere. "I want to be your person, love. If you'll have me."

The confession hangs in the air, bold and heartfelt. Simon's face is open, hopeful yet anxious, as he gauges your reaction. It's clear this isn't just a sudden admission but something he's been grappling with. The intensity of the current situation pushing his feelings to the surface.

You blink back a fresh wave of tears, not from sadness, but from a bewildering mix of joy and doubt. His words are everything you wanted to hear yet they also echo in the corners of your mind where you harbor insecurities. You see him—Simon, so confident, so capable. The embodiment of everything you admire. And then there’s you, the ‘inexperienced little American girl’ as you harshly label yourself, suddenly feeling all the more plain and unworthy beside him.

“Simon,” you start. Your voice wavering not just with emotion but with the weight of your own self-doubt. “Why me? You’re… you’re incredible, and I’m just… I don’t know, I always feel like I’m just stumbling around you. I’m not sure what you see in someone like me.”

As your insecurities surface, revealing the depth of your unsureness, Simon's expression shifts into one of immediate concern and gentle reproof. "Love, you can't be serious…" he begins. His voice imbued with a firm conviction that makes you pause. "You're everything and more. You don’t see that?"

He makes sure you're looking directly at him with his hands tenderly cradling your face, ensuring that you feel the weight and sincerity of his words. "You see inexperience, but I see a woman who bravely faces every new challenge. Who learns and adapts, who grows stronger every day. You’re not just someone trying to keep up. You're someone who enhances our team with your unique strengths and perspective."

Simon's voice softens even further as he continues. Each word carefully chosen to convey his deep admiration and affection. "Every time you think you're just scrambling to catch up, I see someone gracefully navigating through obstacles. What you call inexperience, I call a journey of growth and courage. And that’s what draws me to you. Not just your resilience but your authenticity. The realness you bring to every situation is unguarded and genuine."

He leans in closer reducing the space between you, his gaze locked with yours in an intense, heartfelt connection. "To me, you are a woman who has taught me more about heart and perseverance than anyone else. You bring laughter, support, and challenge to my life in ways you don’t even realize."

Simon shakes his head slightly, a smile tinged with affection and a hint of awe breaking through. "You being you, with all your doubts, your laughs, your dreams—that's what I want and need. You might feel like you're just keeping pace, but love, in my eyes, you're flying. And I want to be there to support you. To celebrate every victory and help you through every challenge."

Simon's words not only offer reassurance but also begin to dismantle the walls of doubt you've built around yourself just as he had. His belief in you, his unwavering support, resonates deeply, perhaps starting to shift how you view yourself. No longer as a mere participant trying to keep up but as an invaluable member of the team whose journey and contributions are deeply cherished.

Overwhelmed by Simon's heartfelt words you find yourself momentarily speechless. His deep belief in your worth and his unwavering support pierce through the layers of your self-doubt, striking a chord deep within you. It's as if his words have not only reached your ears but also wrapped around your heart, offering both solace and a profound reassurance.

Without a word you lean forward, burying your face in the warmth of Simon's chest. The sturdy beat of his heart under your ear is comforting. A steady rhythm in the storm of emotions you're navigating. As you inhale deeply, you're enveloped by his familiar scent, a mixture that's uniquely Simon—part strength, part safety. It's grounding, helping you anchor yourself in the reality of his presence. In the truth of his words.

Simon's arms encircle you gently once more. His hand finding its way to your back where he begins to rub soothing circles. The simple gesture is nurturing, allowing you the space and comfort to collect your thoughts. To let the emotional turbulence settle into a sense of peace. His patience is palpable. There's no rush, no urgency, just a steady presence as he holds you. Affirming that he's there for you, not just in moments of strength but also in moments of vulnerability.

In the sanctuary of Simon's embrace, you feel a deep gratitude washing over you. His support not only uplifts you but also starts to reshape the way you view yourself. The doubts that once loomed large now begin to shrink, overshadowed by the new perspective he's given you—one where you are valued, capable, and cherished.

As you slowly lift your head to meet his gaze your eyes are reflective of the emotions still swirling within you but also shining with a newfound confidence. The connection you share has deepened, strengthened by vulnerability and honesty. You're ready to voice your thoughts, to respond to his openness with your own. “Simon,” you begin. Your voice a whisper that carries all the depth of your emotions, “Can I kiss you?”

The moment hangs suspended. Your question lingering between you, filled with anticipation. Simon’s response is not in words but actions. A reflection of the straightforward, decisive man you know him to be. With a swift, gentle motion, he cups your face in his hands once more. His touch reassuring and intent. Before you can react further he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is a surge of warmth and tenderness. Deepening as if to make up for all the unspoken times you both held back. It's a kiss that communicates more than any words could. Filled with all the emotions that have been steadily brewing—a mixture of relief, affection, and undisguised longing.

When you finally come up for air Simon's eyes twinkle with a mixture of delight and affection. A sweet smirk playing on his lips. “Thought you’d never ask, love,” he teases gently. His voice a soft rumble that sends a thrill through you. The playfulness in his tone lightens the intensity of the moment adding a layer of joy to the emotional depth you've shared.

Amidst the deep embrace, as Simon's arms encircle you, creating a world that consists only of the two of you, his question still lingers in the air. A soft echo amidst the intensity of your mutual connection. "Is that a yes?" His voice, though light and teasing, carries an undercurrent of earnest desire for affirmation, a confirmation of the bond you both feel.

Your body is pressed against his feeling the reassuring strength of his chest. The protective circle of his arms and the gentle touch of his hands tracing soothing patterns on your back. The physical closeness amplifies the emotional intimacy of the moment making the space between heartbeats seem significant filled with unspoken promises and shared dreams.

You lift your head from the sanctuary of his chest meeting his gaze which is alight with anticipation and warmth. His eyes, so often a bastion of resolve, now hold a tender vulnerability, waiting for your words, your confirmation.

"Yes, Simon," you respond, your voice soft but filled with conviction, the words flowing effortlessly in the safety of his hold. "Absolutely it's a yes. I can't imagine being with anyone else but you." The smile that spreads across your face mirrors the joy and sincerity in your heart.

As you speak your hand gently caresses his cheek feeling the slight roughness of his skin beneath your fingertips grounding the moment in the tactile reality of his presence. Simon's reaction is immediate as a deep, relieved breath. And his eyes close for a brief moment, savoring the words that have sealed the understanding between you.

When he opens his eyes again there's a new light in them, one of deep contentment and resolve. He leans in to capture your lips with his once more. This kiss infused with the joy of mutual acceptance and the excitement of a future together. It's a kiss that reaffirms everything that has been shared, a tender seal on the promises made.

Pulling back slightly, Simon's forehead rests against yours. A contented sigh escaping him. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmurs, his voice a low hum filled with happiness. "You have no idea how much you mean to me."

In the cocoon of Simon's embrace, the air around you pulses with a newfound joy, each moment intensifying the connection that binds you together. With each word, each touch, Simon showers you with the love and affection that he's held back for so long. His lips find yours again, this time more eagerly, conveying emotions too powerful for words.

As Simon deepens the kiss, he pauses briefly, pulling back just enough to gaze into your eyes with an expression brimming with tenderness. "You're so beautiful," he whispers. The warmth of his breath caressing your face as he plants soft kisses along your jawline. Each kiss seems to say what words cannot fully express, marking a trail of affection that sends tingles through your body.

Trailing kisses down your neck, he murmurs, "The prettiest girl I've ever seen," his voice a velvety whisper that wraps around you like a soothing blanket. The sincerity in his tone, coupled with the gentle press of his lips against your skin, makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken.

He then moves back up to meet your gaze again, his hands cradling your face with a reverence that makes you feel cherished in ways you'd only imagined. "And you're not just beautiful, you're the smartest woman I know," he adds. His admiration for your intellect just as palpable as his physical attraction. His thumbs gently stroke your cheeks as he continues, "Watching you solve problems that stump everyone else—it's incredible."

Simon's compliments flow seamlessly as he explores your face with his kisses. Each touch a testament to his deepening feelings. With every word, every gentle caress, you feel more seen and appreciated than ever before. The connection deepens, wrapping both of you in a tender intimacy that feels both exhilarating and profoundly right.

As you lie there, enveloped in Simon's love and adoration, a giggle escapes you. A sound of pure happiness and contentment. You've never felt so loved, so valued. In Simon's arms, with his voice whispering sweet affirmations, you feel an overwhelming sense of belonging. He's not just a partner. He's your person in every sense, and in this perfect heartfelt moment you trust him completely and utterly.

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[undeadcannibal]

Your honor I'd like to propose an amendment to the 🍆 head cannon post:

Curvature and distinguishing colors, features? Are they darker or the same shade? Lighter? Hair color? Texture? Who's got a lean? 🥎⚾s?

Summary: More requested ‘N.SF.T’ headcanons for Task Force 141, Los Vaqueros, and König~ Part 2 of this post here!

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rodolfo, and König.

Warnings: explicit content!

A/N: Never did I expect for that other post to become as popular as it did. I’m happy y’all enjoy my gross and overly-detailed headcanons. Also, please note, if any of you happen to not like or find any of my hcs to be gross or not what you expected, keep in mind they’re just my headcanons. Don’t take ‘em seriously, dudes. Weird and rude replies will be deleted. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Gaz―

Not much of a curve to it, honestly, he’s pretty straight curvature wise. Distinguishing colors? I’d say his foreskin is the same as his skin tone overall, tip-wise? I’m thinking it’s a bit darker than the color of his lips and flushes an even deeper color when he’s fully aroused, mhm. Hair color of his pubes is dark and also has a some curl and texture to it when he does let it grow out for some time. Balls, too? Hm... I’d say Kyle’s sporting a nice, snug set he prefers to keep smooth and clean more often than not.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that he adores you paying extra special attention to his balls. Worship them and he’ll be cumming all over your face in no time~

Ghost―

Slight upward curve that stimulates you in the best of ways. IDC what anyone says, man has a mouthwatering cock with a nice flesh-pink tip and anyone can fight me on it. Probably slightly darker than his overall skin tone but not by much. Pubic hair stuff... I’m torn between him being a natural dirty blond or brunet. (I can’t remember where I saw the fanart from, but someone has a headcanon that he bleaches his brunet hair blond and oof, I’m in love, also give him long ass roots since he can’t keep up with his root touch-ups while out on missions) Straight-ish texture to his hair as well, grows pretty smoothly altogether. THIS MAN has a thick vein running down the middle of his shaft, my lord. And finally, for his balls, I’m thinking he’s got a hefty set that he’s quick to push you down to so you can pay them some attention, expect some light tickling from the hair there, too. uwu

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he struggles with being submissive and prefers being dominant the majority of the time due to his trauma. He doesn’t like the idea of submitting to someone -- he’s far too afraid of what kind of consequences it could possibly have for him. This doesn’t mean he’s a sadistic or strict Dom. If anything, he’s hyper aware of your reactions to every little thing he does, also refuses anything hard or physical against you, he detests the thought of causing his partner pain.

Price―

Leans ever so slightly to the right, isn’t too noticeable though. Since he’s circumcised in my previous post, could probably notice a scar that separates light flesh-tone color of his shaft from the faint pink of his tip. Also, despite him preferring to trim his facial hair specifically, I’d see him as going fully natural bush-wise. Man’s got a lovely cushion of brown hair that’s got just the faintest amount of gray speckled throughout. While he looks very textured, I personally think his hair would be soft af. Large set of balls that droops a bit lower now than when he was younger~

Bonus! Kink headcanon for John is - if you’re willing - he’d love to use you as an ashtray when he’s smoking. He’d light up, take a few puffs, than order you to open your mouth so he could tap the ashes off onto your tongue. Ordering you to keep your mouth open so he can see the black and grey specks of ash decorating your tongue before having you swallow.

Soap―

Has just the slightest upward curve to him, definitely jokes it’s great for helping stimulate his partner’s g-spot. Also knows all the best camera angles for top-tier dick pics. Shade darker than his natural skin tone and also has a smidge of hair going up the bottom of his shaft. Doesn’t mind in the slightest though. As mentioned before, he prefers going all natural and doesn’t shave or trim much. Lord, the amount of hair this man has. Has treasure trail, hair thighs, ass, groin, everything. Sorry, I love hairy men, what can I say? Also, when he’s super pent up, his tips turns a deep ruddy shade you love to see every time. Balls are on the larger side with one being slightly smaller than the other, also very sensitive and will have him turning into a whimpering mess if you pay special attention to them.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he takes every spare chance he can get to take and send nudes and videos of him jacking off. Doing his best to make those sounds you love whilst trying not to get caught by anyone. Those moments are for your eyes and your eyes only~

Rodolfo―

Sobbing because his cock is the same gorgeous shade as the rest of his skin, although can see the head of his cock and his balls being a tad darker. Maybe has a tad lean towards the left. Has trimmed dark hair that feels amazing beneath your fingertips. Balls are a bit on the larger side. Run your tongue over them and his dick will be twitching above your face in no time, also will draw up tight to him when he’s cumming~ Please spread this man’s thighs apart, he’s got beauty marks for days and will fucking tremble if you kiss and run your tongue over them!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he’s got such a praise kink when it comes to his partners. The hottest thing in the world for him is for him to be showering his partner with compliments, feeling them clench tightly around him as his words register in their pleasured-addled minds.

Alejandro―

Much like Rudy, he’s a beautiful shade of tan all throughout, and his cock head is just as flushed and ruddy when he’s aroused. Much like Rudy, has a lean but his is the exact opposite, veering to  Also is hairy just like Soap, but nowhere near to the same degree. If anything, man’s sporting a thick bush, hairy thighs, and legs. Also another man sporting thick veins throughout the length of him that he’s more sensitive about being touched than he’d like to admit. Large set of balls that do sag a bit but doesn’t mind in the slightest definitely likes to teabag his partner as a result if they allow him to  

Bonus! Kink headcanon for our man is that he’s a sucker for sloppy oral, giving or receiving, but especially receiving. Nothing excites him more than seeing how ruined and messy he can make your face as he fucks it.

König―

Doesn’t really have much of a curve or lean to him, but rest assured he’s got veins for days lining his shaft. And, if you run your tongue along them, he melts on the spot. Perfect male whimpering audio material <3 The color of him is noticeably darker than the rest of him. That, combined with his beautiful sandy colored curls make for a mouthwatering view. Also has large, yet tight balls that are far more sensitive than he’d like. Overstimulate the big guy right now!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that due to his size all around, he’s grown to have a liking for size difference with his partner being smaller than his. It’s pretty easy given his height, but more so it drives him feral to see his cock bulging his partner’s belly out with every thrust he gives.

[restinslices]

Silly little request but how do you think LKB would dress like casually? Like once every blue moon they have a day off and ding need to wear their uniforms? Can you do this in bullet points?

Them not in their uniforms is such a normal concept but it seems so weird for them if you know what I mean. Like, wdym they don’t wear those outfits to sleep? Also this is probably shorter than other posts because it’s about outfits, yk?

Bi-Han

Black. Moving on-

On some real shit though, I feel like this man’s entire wardrobe is in greyscale 

Someone’s like “hey there’s this event coming up! Can you wear a blue shirt?”

You’d think he’d have blue but nope. Nothing but blacks and greys and maybe a white in there 

I saw a post of biker Bi-Han and I definitely see it now 

Idk if the pictures imma attach at the end are really biker tho so that’s why I’m saying mainly blacks 

Like Elsa, the cold doesn’t bother him anyway so jackets aren’t really a thing he has to wear. He kinda just does because it makes the outfit look better 

That’s all the brain power he puts into it though because this man doesn’t care about his wardrobe at all 

He cares enough to not look sloppy but he doesn’t care about piecing shit together or brands and designer. If you look closely you can see he’s wearing the same shirt he was wearing yesterday 

He wears black because he’s still thinking like an assassin. The whole “I shouldn’t be noticeable” thing 

Which is wild when you think about how he’s definitely noticeable in that blue outfit but idk

He also wears black because… he doesn’t know 

He checked his closet and realized that shit looked like a black void but refuses to actually wear more color 

I don’t see him accessorizing much either. He only carries stuff he can fit in his pockets 

Kuai Liang

Lazy 

Bi-Han adds a jacket for a bit of razzle dazzle but Kuai Liang doesn’t 

In all fairness, he gets hot easily (this is stereotypical but idc) so a jacket isn’t gonna work 

He wears the most basic t shirts and pants 

Like he legit got the same white shirt 50 times 

The shit is despicable 

I don’t think he adds many accessories either. He probably doesn’t carry much on him 

Long sleeves never really happen either 

Honestly I don’t think of any them dress with any special aesthetic in mind

But him? Extra lazy

I am being so serious when I say he buys the same clothes over and over again. He forgets he has a white t shirt in his closet so he buys another and the cycle repeats 

Probably doesn’t care as much because what are the chances he’ll be out of uniform?

You know how people say men's outfits are so boring? He’s the main example they use because there’s no personality with his shit 

I don’t see him doing much on his off days though so that’s probably why he just throws something on

He’s just getting dressed to go grocery shopping 

Tomas Vrbada 

The one with the most style 

Which isn’t saying a lot 

Wears multiple layers 

Why do I think this way? Idk. But if I said they all dress the same, it’d be boring so here we are

He probably has a normal type of body heat since he’s not a pyromancer or cryomancer so he’s wearing hoodies and jackets because he’s genuinely cold 

He accidentally has style 

Wearing a hoodie and jacket is stylish to people for whatever reason. He doesn’t get it but he’s like “yeah, I definitely have fashion sense. It’s definitely not because I’m cold all the time. That just doesn’t sound like me”

May accessorize a bit but not as much 

As a whole I think accessories can become heavy and get in the way and our boys gotta be ready to bust a move if something pops off. Just because they’re off duty doesn’t mean they’re not paying attention or in danger 

So that’s why our boys travel light 

He has those smoke bombs and shit so he might have a little pouch with him but I don’t think he’d carry a backpack. Goes back to being too heavy 

If something can’t fit in a pouch, it’s staying home 

Dresses in neutral colors. I don’t think any of them are necessarily into bright colors 

Doesn’t have the same exact clothes but wears them the same exact way. His outfits look like a skin variation 

He’s doing his best 

Remember all I do for you because imagining them in normal clothes fucked me up more than I’d like to admit

[hunnyswift]

ex fiancé!reader headcanons

cw: sexual innuendos , mentions of cheating ( it didn’t really happen ) , bradley being a dick and leaving our girl at the altar , best friend!oc ( danny kazansky! i’m gonna picture chace crawford and if i end up using pictures that’s who that is but imagine whoever you’d like! ) , and i think that’s it for now

18+ minors dni

◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟ ͜ ◞ ྀི◟

♡ saying this right now , bradley ‘obsessed with his fiancé’ bradshaw did not plan on calling the wedding off! i def think not getting married was something that he thought of because of his job and what happened to his mom , but he didn’t truly want to leave reader and not in the way he did ( a one-shot will be coming soon )

♡ reader is ron kerner’s daughter

♡ danny was your man of honor , bradley’s best man was one of your shared friends from college

♡ carole loved you , would poke fun at the two of your before you got together saying, “i can see it now. the two of you getting married is a nice thought.”

♡ idc what any of y’all say , ex fiancé!reader got carole’s house , and she still lives in it to this day and it probably kills bradley

♡ i just feel like reader still has the ring

♡ bradley NEVER MOVED ON. he didn’t sleep with anyone , he didn’t go on dates. nothing. mans was miserable and he did it to himself

♡ you did move on — well , you slept with danny. and that kept happening. over and over again. oops!

♡ danny is definitely still close to bradley because he’s also in the navy and they grew up together , but you still got him in the ‘divorce’

♡ the 1 coded to the max

♡ you moved back to san diego and back into the house and opened up a little bakery , but you also help out penny when she needs it at the hard deck because you love her

♡ you didn’t know bradley was coming back — you made all of your friends promise to never mention him ever again , and they did just that

♡ you’re both idiots in love with miscommunication flowing between you

♡ you and bradley were each other’s first everythings. like everything. you grew up together and it just happened that way and then you fell in love

♡ speaking of firsts — bradley got really good in bed. he discovered everything you liked and made mental notes he would never forget. y’all had a good ol’ time in bed trust

♡ after the wedding to be , danny had to convince you that it wasn’t because bradley was cheating on you

♡ it’s giving meredith grey after derek died the way you disappeared for a month without a trace. danny was the only one who knew where you were at all times and even then you were actively communicating

♡ slider was pissed when everything went down… your mom was with you while he was chewing bradley’s ass out in the groom’s room

[frizzle-mcshizzle]

what r your thoughts on forkle /gen

as a writer i think hes a very well written morally grey character, as a reader i hate his freaking guts here is the list i literally keep in my notes of why i hate him.

he broke into her room who knows how many times when she was a little girl (idc if he had REASONS its FREAKING WEIRD)

he asked Sophie to meet him (a grown man) on a island alone and when she took Keefe with her he told her she had to come in the cave with him alone

he just about left Dex for dead in the Neverseen hideout and only brought him because Sophie refused to go without him. Dex was a innocent child. Dex wasn’t just anyones child he was a member of the collectives child someone who he worked with side by side for years, and he was still willing to leave him behind (he later said he was going to back for him but like...)

Dex ended up with scars because he didn’t bring enough elixirs for him.

he thinks of Sophie as an accomplishment and doesn’t expect her to want him to think of her as anything more (Everblaze, Page 447.)

he calls her his moonlark. which sounds sweet until you realize that’s her project code name he’s literally calling her “my creation” aka “my weapon”

he will act very cryptic and only give out bits of information, just enough that she will look into what he was talking about then act proud and flatter her, saying things like “i underestimated you kids” when she and her friends figure out the thing he wanted her to know.

he will tell her about problems in the world making it sound horrible and hopeless, then saying "this is the thing we made you to fix, but that’s your choice"

he’s constantly switching from dehumanizing her because she is the Moonlark and it’s her job to change things and this is what she was created for. then treating like his child at the drop of a hat

excludes her parents from the conversations and tells her she has control over her life, not them, like she isn’t a young teen

he told a fourteen year old that if he and the rest of collective died Sophie and her friends would take their place, not care about what kind of pressure that would put on her. then admits to grooming Sophie and her friends to lead the Black Swan one day

he is constantly reading her mind and never lets her have her thoughts to herself but expects her to not read other peoples minds.

he put all this importance on Prentice and told a child that they where going to use her to brake into prison and almost got another child killed who didn't even need to be there (they could have done that without her they have dwarves)

finds it funny to exclude Sandor from conversations that could potentially put her in danger

had Sophie recruit other children, which is disturbing, because fine they don’t have a choice if she’s in danger but putting other children in danger and taking on missions is completely unnecessary, he could have done it himself or had adults do it.

Ignored tam being taken by the neverseen, and told them to focus on other things

Not to mention he basically took advantage of Emma Foster's health issues, knowing full well he'd be taking her child away from her and her husband at a later date. Sophie's human parents were done so dirty, and all they wanted to do was let her be a kid for as long as possible

[mybuttonfelloff]

Vampire the masquerade bloodlines makes me brain go brrrrr

YES its a game from literally 20 years ago

YES it can be buggy and sometimes peoples clothes float

YES the game is a perfect recreation of what people thought 2004 was like so its like. Kinda shit.

but NOTHING will ever take away my love of these stupid vampires fighting over political vampire power. Story is *kisses* mwah. Music? Fucking iconic. Lecher Bitch is genuinely so good. The myriad of ways u can play? Stealthy. Murdery. Politically. Manipulatey. Selfishly. Generously. ALL??? THE CLANS???? Love my tremere character who is canonically part of the Creepy Ass Clan club. Love that i can use blood magic and make security guards go Standing Naptime so i can run away

Nines is 100% my favorite and idc if its boring to say so. Man could monologue his way through anything. He literally saves ur character's life numerous times in the name of Freedom And Hating The Bourgeoisie. And fucking over corrupt politicians at the same time?? Love him.

Damsel? Love that bitch. She is ready to fight 24/7 and i love that about her. She is just. Kisses on Mouth mwah.

Jack? Coolest dude ever. Allegedly used to be a PIRATE??? VAMPIRE. PIRATE. Also hes like. One of like few people who is genuine with you. Bc he has nothing to really lose or gain by being nice to the poor new kid, he just does it for fun. But also wants to just watch the world burn itself down. Love that abt him.

Lacroix? Cant stand the bastard but he is damn good at whining and throwing a tantrum at every opportunity which usually gets him what he wants. I almost respect it. Almost. But fuck him for not giving my tremere person a new haven bc of their clan.

Jeanette and Therese? First of all, GREY DELISLE MY BELOVED. Second, their story is fucking great. Genuinely didnt know what was gonna happen until It Happened. Also, #gaslight #gatekeep #girlboss to the death.

Honorable mention Heather love u girl thanks for the money and lunch.

I am currently in the Hollywood section so ik there are people missing but goddamn my brain needed to get this out so i can keep obsessing in peace

[heroesvow]

I need to get my thoughts out in the open, so here are my opinions if certain former companions / advisors are gonna pop up in DA4. I could be talking out of my ass here, so don't take any of this 100% seriously I have no idea how the story is gonna go and I could be surprised.

100% Confirmed - Solas ( Duh ) - Varric - Morrigan ( Still riding this high tbh ) - The Inquisitor ( Who knows what their role will be, but we get to customize them when we make our Rook so I'm excited to make my Inkys look tired and hot asf )

80% chance because it just makes SENSE. - Dorian ( We're in Tevinter, he's incredibly popular, and hopefully Maevaris pops up as well because she deserves to finally appear physically in a game. ) - Isabela ( This is my just me hoping tbh, but we're traveling to different places so her ship being our mode for transportation just makes sense to me. She showed up in concept art, and she's also dearly beloved by the fanbase. Bring her back ! )

50% chance because of locations, or possible small one scene moments for fun. - Zevran ( Antivan Crows baby ) - Leliana, Cassandra and Vivienne. ( If the divine appears in a single scene we'll probably get them. I can see Cass and Leliana appearing with the Inquisitor as well, but I don't think any of them will have a LARGE role in the story. ) - Alistair ( If he's a Grey Warden and is still kicking he might show up at Weisshaupt, if he's King he could also make a small cameo appearance during a single scene. Anora as well. He's my all time favorite so I of course want him to show up in at least ONE scene. ) - Blackwall, Loghain, Carver, Bethany ( Grey Wardens, they can show up at Weisshaupt. The Hawke twins are obviously determinant, but it'd be really nice to see them at least once. ) - Cole ( His connection to Solas gives me hope but who knows. ) - Sten ( We'll definitely see the Qunari and deal with them during some story beats. He's the current Arishok, it just makes sense. ) - Fenris ( His large role in the comics and him currently being in the areas from the game gives me hope. Gideon said he isn't in the game, but Claudia also said the same thing so who knows? ) - Shale ( Was in this area last we checked! Could show up! I hope so because Shale is deadass the funniest companion across the three games idc )

30% drinking copium kool aid. - Josephine ( Her appearing in one scene would be so nice, but she's not as popular as other characters so I don't have high hopes. ) - Iron Bull ( The Chargers could appear! But Freddie Prince Jr has said BioWare has no interest in him as a voice actor?? But who knows what their drama is really about. ) - Sera ( Could happen. No reason why she couldn't. ) - Merrill ( Her desire to bring back elven culture would be interesting to see in this story, but I personally don't think BioWare would consider her. I love her though and I would have her in this game in an instant if it was up to me. )

10% not ruling them out, but it's very unlikely. - The Warden ( I have given up hope babes. ) - Anders ( BioWare seems to REALLY dislike him so I don't see it happening. ) - Oghren ( I don't want him and if they choose to bring him back over others I might take drastic measures. ) - Hawke ( Maybe a voice cameo?? We know the person left in the fade isn't being addressed in this game, but if they weren't left behind maybe we'll get something lol )

0% chance these characters show up. - Aveline ( We're probably not going to Kirkwall and she has no reason to not be there. ) - Sebastian ( See Aveline, but swap Kirkwall with Starkhaven ) - Wynne ( She's dead. ) - Cullen ( LMAO he will never physically appear in this series again and I am fine with that. I love Cullen, but his VA needs to fuck off this planet ASAP. He'll probably get a mention by the Inquisitor if he was romanced and that will be it. )