Wahapele

Hi!!! I’m just here for the fluff and angst. I like to read more than I like to write, so if i post something, it’ll probably just be oneshots ngl. Early 20s and still a queen✌🏽Multi fandom. Cod,star wars,etc

[dvg-tvgs]

every time theres a puddle in your path, simon riley carries you over it.

it started on your first date, when you were wearing this pretty white maxi skirt and a pair of white heels. he's walking beside you in all black, typical.

but you get to a puddle. it's not entirely blocking your path, you could have gone around it. he grunts and picks you up, carrying you safely over the puddle. "there you go, love," he says and puts you down.

you walk everywhere after that with his hand on your back.

the rainy season has become simon riley's favourite. because he gets to pick you up and carry you past any puddle that's even a little bit out of your way.

[nahoney22]

hi I’ve loved your stuff for years and never got round to sending a request in when they were open so hopefully here’s my chance

Can I have some fluff with female or gender neutral reader with Crosshair? Whatever the prompt is up to you! Thank you so much if you decide to do this 😊

A Brush of Love

Pairings: Crosshair X Gender Neutral Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Plot: During a rare bit of downtime, you accidentally paint Crosshair’s helmet instead of your own. Expecting him to be furious, you’re shocked when he not only keeps the doodles—but “gets even” by painting something on your helmet that changes everything.

Warnings: safe for work, light teasing, mild language, oblivious pining, soft Crosshair, fluff, reader(gn) is an artist, a little embarrassment.

These days, downtime is pretty rare. 

But when it is available, your favourite way to spend it is with a canvas or your sketchbook—pencil, charcoal, or even paint and a brush. Paint was hard to come by out here, so you’d defaulted to oils, which took a bit of convincing for the boys to accept the smell of.

Still, you woke one morning to find a small boxed paint kit tucked under your bunk, wrapped in a scrap of old cloth as if someone didn’t want the others to see. Nobody ever stepped forward to take credit. You didn’t push it. It warmed you a little too much to wonder who it might’ve been.

Art kept your nerves together, and the others understood that by now.

Wrecker always checked his giant hands before even hovering near your work, muttering, “No smudges, no smudges.”  Echo would lean over your shoulder when you squinted too long, gently offering, “Do you need lighting?” Tech, who insisted your sketch of him needed “more accurate proportioning,” hovered anyway. 

Crosshair never said anything.

He watched, though.

Always from a distance. Always with that unreadable slant to his eyes, pretending he wasn’t studying the way your fingers moved. 

Today, the Marauder was blissfully still. You’d already filled a page with quick figure sketches: Hunter twirling his viroblade, Tech hunched over a datapad like a gargoyle and Wrecker lifting Gonky with one hand. 

Your helmet sat on the weapons rack behind you. Blank. Scuffed. Boring. Begging for personality. For weeks the idea had bounced around your head that maybe you would add some little doodles.

You set your pencil down, brushed the graphite from your fingertips, and reached for it.

Your fingers just grazed plastoid when Hunter called out across the hold, urgency clipping the edge of his voice. “Hey, can I get a hand with something?”

“Yeah, coming!”

A whole stack of crates had been arranged in the exact wrong order and it took all of you longer than you liked to sort out. By the time you wiped sweat from your brow and stretched your back, dusk light was slipping through the Marauder’s ramp.

You headed back to the rack, grabbed your helmet without even thinking, scooped up your paint kit, and slipped outside before nightfall swallowed the light.

The air was cool, dust brushing around your boots as you settled on an overturned crate. You hummed to yourself, flipping open the little paint tins, dipping your brush into the first colour.

You toyed with ideas such as patterns, symbols, tiny flowers or maybe a loth-cat but after a moment you finally decided on something easy. Cute spirals that blended into small, petal-like shapes. 

You’d only been working for five minutes when you turned the bucket to get a better angle.

And froze.

This was NOT your helmet.

Your stomach dropped so fast you nearly choked on the breath you sucked in.

This was—

“What are you doing?”

You snapped upright so fast your brush nearly flew out your hand. Crosshair stood ten paces away, his expression blank. He marched toward you, long strides kicking up dust.

“Heck, Crosshair—” You scrambled to your feet, holding his helmet between slightly shaking hands. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise— I thought it was mine. I can clean it off, I swear—”

He stopped right in front of you. Close enough for you to see the slow shift of his jaw as he rolled the toothpick between his teeth. His eyes dropped to the helmet—covered in delicate spirals and tiny flowers—and then slowly lifted to yours.

He didn’t say a word.

You swallowed hard. “I’ll get something to wipe it—”

“No.”

He yanked the helmet from your hands in one swift motion and tucked it under his arm.

“No?” you repeat, startled. “Crosshair, seriously. I’m really sor—”

“I said no.” 

His tone wasn’t angry. Abrupt, yes, but not sharp.

He exhaled through his nose, pinched the bridge of it briefly, then muttered, “I’ll deal with it.”

He was being weirdly calm. You blinked. “Are you sure? I really didn’t mean—”

He raised a hand, silencing you with barely a flick of his fingers. “I’ll deal with it,” he repeated, eyes lingering on you for a long, unreadable second before he turned and strode back up the ramp of the Marauder.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, guilt clawing at your ribs.

“Idiot,” you muttered, tapping your knuckles against your forehead. “Force-damned idiot.”

Of all the helmets to grab, you had to take his. Wrecker would tease him for cycles, and Crosshair already had a short fuse on good days.

You waited outside a few minutes, working up the nerve to follow, then climbed the ramp.

“We’ve just received a transmission from Captain Rex.” Tech called the moment he saw you.

You barely heard him at first, scanning the hold for Crosshair, searching for a glimpse of dark armour with fresh flowers. Nothing. 

Tech repeated himself, a little more pointedly, and you jolted out of your thoughts long enough to nod and sink into a seat.

You assumed Crosshair was in the cockpit.

Possibly sulking. Possibly simmering. Probably hiding the evidence of your accidental vandalism before anyone else noticed.

You stared down at your hands, the faint stain of paint still clinging to the pads of your fingers.

Maker, you hoped he wouldn’t stay mad.

The next evening you’re back on Kamino and the endless storm thundered against the white walls of the barracks as sheets of rain streaked down the windows

You sat alone inside the squad’s quarters, perched at Tech’s messy workbench. The only clear space being the part you had tidied for your sketchbook. Loose wires, open datapads, stripped comlink parts and scribbled diagrams were shoved aside so you could finish an old drawing: a twisting Felucian tree with luminous leaves you’d seen months ago.

Your pencil moved in soft strokes, lost in memory and oblivious to the rest of the galaxy. Just how you liked it.

Meanwhile, across the training complex, the other five were gearing up for a battle droid simulation.

Training hadn’t even started yet when Wrecker’s voice boomed through the prep area.

“Crosshair’s got FLOWERS on his helmet!”

Crosshair stilled before answering with a snarl as if to say, ‘shut up’.

“Wrecker,” Hunter warned without even looking up from tightening his vambrace, “drop it.”

But Wrecker didn’t seem to want to.

“I’m just sayin’,” he laughed, clapping Crosshair’s shoulder (which Crosshair immediately shrugged off), “if he didn’t want people to notice, maybe he shouldn’t’ve kept the paint! He didn’t even wipe one lil’ petal off!”

Crosshair’s shoulders tensed and the toothpick in his mouth almost snapped and pierced his lip.

“Maybe,” Wrecker continued cheerfully, “he kept it ’cause someone special painted it. Y’know… maybe he li—”

“Wrecker.” Echo interrupted, annoyed already even when he wasn’t the source of the conversation. “Stop. You’re winding him up.”

Tech, busy checking the simulation parameters, added dryly, “If he becomes distracted during the exercise, I will be holding you responsible for every missed shot.”

Wrecker went silent. Though a giant grin still plastered his face as he held up a heart shape in the shape of his hands directly to Cross.

He said nothing. Just clenched his jaw, helmet tucked under his arm, spirals and flowers still fully intact and marched away. He would train on his own for now.

Back in the barracks, you were still lost in the swirls of Felucia’s bark, completely unaware of the chaos your artwork had caused.

You only looked up when the sliding door hissed open and Crosshair strode inside. His annoyance was obvious.

“That was quick,” you said automatically, glancing at the chrono on the wall with a small frown as training shouldn’t have been finished yet.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Your gaze drifted from his face and then to the helmet tucked beneath his arm.

It was still adorned with your doodles from yesterday evening. Something screamed in your mind that he might have been teased about it. You swallowed, unsure whether to feel guilty or amused.

You dropped your pencil, letting it roll onto the workbench with a soft clink, and leaned your arms against the surface. “Uh… are you sure you don’t want me to…?”

“To what?” Crosshair retorted, sliding onto the edge of his bunk. The helmet rested beside him while he began tending to his rifle, wiping the barrel with precision.

You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly aware he was being difficult on purpose. “Clean it off. Obviously.”

His hand rubbed the cloth over the metal, but he paused mid-stroke, fingers lingering over the barrel as if deep in thought.

You couldn’t help it—your stomach fluttered. He wasn’t jumping at the chance to get rid of your doodles. He actually seemed okay with them. The absurd thought that maybe he liked what you’d done made your face heat up. Ridiculous. Completely ludicrous. You shook it off, telling yourself he couldn’t possibly feel that way.

Crosshair finally broke the silence. “Where’s your helmet?”

You raised a brow, tilting your head toward your make-shift hammock in the corner. “Under there,” you reply but kind of regretting it the moment he moved.

Without a word, he stood and retrieved it, moving back toward you. You stared up at him, jaw slack, trying to process what the heck he was doing.

“Budge up,” he demanded, not harshly, but with the sort of quiet authority that left no room for argument.

You scooted a little to the left, giving him space to settle beside you.

“What are you doing?” you asked slowly, cautious, eyeing the way he started flipping through your paintbrushes, selecting one and opening a small pot of paint.

“Vandalising your helmet,” he stated simply.

Your stomach dropped. Well… maybe you deserved this. But still, it was a mistake! “D-do you have to? It was an acci—”

“Do you have a blue colour?” he interrupted, completely uninterested in your pitiful plea. His tone was calm and dangerously focused, as if your protests were background noise.

You blinked, then caught the faintest glint of something in his expression; calm, yes, but also… deliberate. Like he was testing you, or maybe just daring you to say no. You swallowed hard as you handed him the small pot of paint..

Your hand brushed against his as you passed him the pot. You froze, heat crawling up your neck, and quickly snatched your hand back, pretending to fuss with a loose pencil.

Crosshair didn’t flinch. He merely dipped his brush into the paint, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he looked down at the helmet and began his act of purposeful vandalism. All the while you sat stiffly beside him.

“Please don’t draw anything rude on it…” you muttered, “I do have to have a uniform of some sort.”

A faint smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth.

Your eyes widened. “Crosshair—”

Before you could crane your neck to peek, he tsk’d sharply and angled the helmet farther from you, elbow coming up like a shield.

“Don’t even think about it,” he drawled.

You huffed, dramatic and miserable, and slumped forward, chin dropping into your palm. Your other hand idly nudged your abandoned drawing, sliding the flimsi back and forth without actually looking at it. 

Despite trying not to look, you felt his gaze flick toward you.

Not long,  just a second or two. Long enough to make your pulse skip.

Every time your eyes started drifting his way, he snapped his attention back to the helmet with suspicious urgency, as if you’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t. 

Your fingers began tapping on the worktop, fidgety and impatient, creating tiny tremors across Tech’s mess of tools.

Crosshair groaned. “For kriff’s sake sit still.”

You scoffed. “Sorry. Didn’t realise you needed complete silence for your… masterpiece.”

“If you want it neat, stop shaking the table,” he shot back, not even looking at you.

“…If I’m getting a lewd painting, it can at least be tidy,” you muttered to yourself.

His smirk returned but he didn’t deny it which did nothing to help your nerves.

Finally, he sat back, dropped the brush into a jar of water. “All done, have a look.”

You didn’t look. If he’d drawn something mortifying, you’d rather die later than right now.

“I said,” Crosshair tilted his head, voice lightly mocking, “take a look.”

“I’ll look when you’re gone.” You stretched your arms above your head in a weak imitation of a yawn. “I need to emotionally prepare, you know.”

He didn’t argue and didn’t taunt.

He simply stood and slid the helmet across the table toward you, turning it just enough that the paint faced you.

You sighed, defeated, and let your eyes flick to the surface

It wasn’t some crude joke or anything embarrassing. It wasn’t even messy.

It was one clean word: mesh’la

You blinked. Twice. Three times.

Then looked up at him, facing his back.

Crosshair was already halfway back to his bunk. “I don’t understand,” you called, “What does this even mean?”

He stopped mid-step, shoulders shifting as if debating whether to even answer. Finally, he turned just enough for you to see his gaze.

“It’s a word,” he said, low and simple, “that describes you.”

You stared. “Great. Typical.”

He watched irritation settle across your face, and the faintest, driest sigh escaped him“You don’t know what it means.”

“Well, I can’t see it being anything pleasant,” you shot back. “Probably means idiot. Or ‘dickhead.’”

Crosshair hummed, almost amused sound, and slung his rifle over one shoulder. “Maybe,” he starts, “you should check what it means before assuming.”

You grumbled under your breath something incoherent and something probably impolite.

Crosshair’s quiet hum echoed in your ears as you began digging through the clutter on Tech’s desk as you look for a datapad.

“‘Maybe you should check what it means,’” you mimicked under your breath as you finally found a datapad buried under a heap of wiring. Victory.

You shot Crosshair a glare. He was leaning in the barracks doorway, arms folded across his chest, one boot crossed over the other, all coiled in smugness. The faint tilt of his head told you he was enjoying this far too much.

You scowled and typed the word into the translator with quick, irritated jabs: Mesh’la.

The results popped up. You blinked. Then blinked again to make sure your eyes don't pop out of your skull.

Beautiful.

Your jaw slackened and heat shot up your throat so fast you almost choked.

“That—” you stuttered, staring at the screen in disbelief. “That can’t be… I must’ve—” You typed it again. And again. Each result came back the same.

Very slowly, you lifted your gaze.

Crosshair hadn’t moved from the doorway. His expression was almost blank, carefully controlled… but there was something in the slight raise of his chin, the faintest flex at the corner of his mouth, that gave him away.

Satisfaction.

“W-what…” you breathed, barely managing to get the words out. “Why?”

You were filled with just genuine, overwhelmed confusion as your fingers curled around the datapad to keep them from trembling. 

Crosshair didn’t answer. He simply shifted his rifle higher on his shoulder, gave the smallest nod and pushed off the doorframe.

“See you later,” he murmured.

And then he was gone. Boots echoing down the hall and leaving you sitting in the mess of Tech’s half-disassembled gadgets, clutching a helmet with ‘beautiful’ painted on it. 

Your face was on fire. Hot. Burning. You pressed your palms against it, trying to think, trying to breathe. Crosshair. Crosshair.

He… he actually liked you. And you were pretty certain you liked him too.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @Kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @Jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @Echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @Pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @The-rain-on-kamino @tentakelspektakel @stellarbit @griffedeloup @Tech-Aficionado @grizabellasolo @Therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @Brynhildrmimi @Greaser-Wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @LadyTano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @Cw80831 @Knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @jane8675 @dalu-grantkylo @kindalonelystars @sugar-monster @thizandthatzz @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd

[mustangshelbyy]

✨ Big Boy Supremacy ✨

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[ye-old-hermit-woman]

Oops, that's not a wallet

(Thatch x F!Reader NSFW)

Cw: smut 18+

Summary: You got what you asked for after bugging your man for it all DAY.

--------------------------------------

Thatch: Hey sugarplum, could you grab my wallet for me, please? My hands are full and I want to make sure the-!!!!

You stick your hand in his back pocket and shamelessly grab a hand-full of his thick ass then give it a firm squeeze pulling the meat up as if you were pulling something out of his pocket with a smirk. You bite your lip trying not to laugh while noticing his muscles expand his uniform for a split second and a strand of his hair falls from his pompadour.

“Oh!! I’m sorry, I get the two confused-they’re just both so thick and fat hahaha-hey. Hey hey hey Tha-RELAX AHHH!!”

He wordlessly drops all the things he was holding, dusted his hands and uniform off and swings you over his shoulder like a sack a flour with a firm smack to your ass.

Thatch: You have been asking for it all DAY today. C'mon. Let’s go. I’ll give you what you want, brat. Very, very thoroughly.

You were going to tell him you had no idea what he was talking about through the Cheshire smile you had going on knowing full well you’ve been bugging him all day because you were feeling needy. You tickled him in the morning, you bumped his hip with yours in the kitchen while he was sifting some flour making most of it cover the counter, and if he wasn’t about to have a very important commanders meeting he would have taken you right then and there when you ruffled his hair as he was leaning against the wall reading over his notes and you got on the deck above to reach down. He did give you a calm silent smile after that though, ‘keep it up,’ is what that smile spelled out and you only snickered and scampered off.

Looks like this was his last straw and he made it very clear as he had you bare and sweaty pinned under him. You were babbling out curses and pleas for a small break as he was rapidly and firmly rubbing your g-spot with his three fingers. Not once did the man relent, he was working you up till you were screaming and singing beautifully for him just the way he likes.

Once you reach your third violent orgasm he slowly pulls his fingers out and begins to unbuckle his belt with darkened eyes, a vein popping out of his head, and that predatory smile that has you sorta regretting your actions…..sorta. He looks so fucking hot this way.

“Wait. Thatch, Honey I’m sorry I-let me get a breather atle-MMPH”

He takes your breath away with a searing kiss and assaults your tongue with his in a flurry of passion that has you nearly cumming again. He glides his hands over your plush body eliciting sweet shivers and jolts when he lightly skitters his finger tips on those sweet spots to make you squeak. You were too entranced by the wild kiss you barely had any sense to realize his massive tip was slowly inching it’s way inside you.

He pushes a loud moan out from you and smiles wider when he feels your nails dig into his biceps. Thatch pressed you into the mattress and spoke in that warm syrupy voice that hugs your heart and makes your pussy throb.

“Now that you’re properly warmed up, let’s give you exactly what you’ve been asking for all day so thoroughly, all you’ll be able to say is ‘thank you, Thatch’” he gives you a solid thrust that nearly shatters you, “’please Thatch, one more’” another punishing thrust. “Annnnnd….” The sound of your gushing core and moans fills the room at capacity as he starts to piston in and out of you so good you’re seconds away from your next orgasm. The actions are pushing the air right out of your lungs making you tremble out breathy cries feeling the euphoric charge start at your nipples. He can tell they’re getting sensitive because you keep pressing them against his hairy chest, he’s thrusting so vigorously his chest is acting as the perfect grind pad for your breasts. He takes advantage of this and starts worshipping the sweet buds by popping them in his mouth one as a time swirling his tongue and sucking the little peaks to hear your sing. He has no intention of stopping until you pass out and have a much needed nap.

“Hnnnnnngh!!! I LOVE YOU THATCH AAAHHHHHNNNHH~♡♡♡”

Some time later.....

After unloading his last load into you, he gently scoops your unconscious body up and takes you to his bathroom for a much needed clean up. Once that was done he pulls the curtain to cover his porthole window and wraps you in some new sheets in bed. He pulls you close to his chest and kisses your head then embraces you with his loving arms; he’s silently beaming to himself for doing such a great job and making you cum so explosively back to back to back. You really held out compared to the other times.

[wahapele]

😤😮‍💨❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS ZENO X READER

TW: afab reader, NSFW, praise kink, mirror kink, BDSM, soft dom Zeno, SFW, eat out, angst, trauma, inferiority complex, emotional instability, self-loathing, mentions of nightmares, psychological distress, breeding kink, soft sex, Unprotected sex, AFAB Anatomy, vaginal sex...+

⊹ 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

Being close to Zeno was already complicated, but having a relationship with him was even more so.

When you entered his life, he was still in the middle of a whirlwind of emotions and discoveries. His search to become stronger often blinded him and made him act similarly to Wesker—though never quite the same. After all, there was still humanity behind that thick shell, like a lamb in wolf’s clothing.

Zeno doesn’t just think he’s unworthy of love—he despises any display of affection or pity directed at him. Even if it comes from you, if he notices the slightest hint of pity in your eyes, he’ll snap and storm off in anger.

Zeno has a habit of watching you quietly when you’re distracted—reading, cooking, talking, or even sleeping. Not in a creepy way, but in a disbelieving way, like he’s trying to understand why someone like you would stay with him. Sometimes you catch him staring and he immediately looks away and mutters something defensive like: "Don’t get the wrong idea. I was just… thinking."

He hates admitting it, but he constantly compares himself: “I’m just a poorly made copy.” You try to comfort him, telling him that he’s a different person from what Wesker was, and that’s exactly what makes him special. But the silver-haired man refuses to listen, laughing bitterly as he says you could never understand what it’s like to be seen as a defective clone.

Affection feels strange to him, but it isn’t unwelcome.

He always believed he was unworthy of love, that no one could ever truly fall for him. When you stayed despite his outbursts and his Napoleon complex, Zeno began to realize that what he truly needed wasn’t to be feared by everyone—but to be understood and loved.

The two of you would spend nights watching the stars together. He would listen as you whispered plans for the future, and every time you included him in those dreams, it became one of the rare moments when he could genuinely smile. “All of that, little one? Sounds fun… we’ll definitely do it.”

The older man would say it in a calm voice reserved only for you. You were the only person who ever gave him good memories, and he was genuinely grateful for that.

Aside from the days when he became obsessively focused on surpassing Wesker and becoming more powerful; Zeno was a pleasant partner most of the time—especially considering you had been together for quite a while. He spoiled you with his black card, insisted on taking you out, and helped you with your shopping. And even though he pretended to hate it, he secretly loved when you kissed him in public. To him, it meant you weren’t ashamed to be seen with him. And in that moment, that was the only validation he needed.

Zeno has extremely light sleep—if you're not beside him, he wakes up constantly. But when you're there, he sleeps much deeper; sometimes he unconsciously holds your wrist or shirt while sleeping, like he's making sure you're still there. If you try to leave the bed too early, he pulls you back half-asleep: “Six more minutes… don’t disappear yet.”

He has a habit of removing his glasses only when the two of you are alone. The marks on his face become more visible, and he lowers his gaze, silently waiting for you to touch them. When you kiss one of the scars, his whole body trembles and he groans softly. “Damn it, darling… you really know how to make me weak.”

Zeno also collects the small things you accidentally leave behind—a hair tie, a note, a strand of hair—and keeps them inside an aluminum cigarette case tucked in his coat. Whenever he spends too long away from you, he turns to those little things you left behind: small fragments that remind him he still has a safe harbor to return to, even in the middle of all the chaos.

Despite his superhuman strength, he carries you as if you were made of glass. After losing his powers near Elpis, he still tries to lift you and almost falls—laughing awkwardly as he says: “Sorry… I’m still getting used to being… normal.”

If you take care of him during this crisis, he’ll be deeply grateful—but it won’t be easy. Zeno already had an extreme inferiority complex before (made even worse by Dr. Victor’s mockery after he lost his powers). Because of that, he becomes more guarded, trying to push you away, training until his muscles ache and he collapses exhausted on the floor on some random Tuesday.

The silver-haired man wasn’t used to feeling pain—let alone wounds that took months or even years to truly heal. For the first time in a long time, he felt fragile… more fragile than he had in years.

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat after a nightmare where someone takes you away from him, and he can do nothing but watch. He tries everything he can for you—anything money can buy, he’ll give you—but his greatest fear is simply losing you one day.

⊹ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

When you bite his throat, scratch down his back until you draw thin red lines, or suck a bruise onto his collarbone where his shirt collar barely hides it, he groans like he’s been wounded in the best way. “Fuck—Yes honey… show to everyone I’m taken... Show I belong to you.” The validation of being visibly claimed overrides his usual shame.

Foreplay is indispensable for him — Zeno is the type of man who secretly craves being subtly teased in public. A slow hand sliding up his thigh under the table during a dull business dinner, your warm breath and soft, filthy whispers against his ear while everyone else drones on, or the “accidental” graze of your fingers over the growing bulge in his pants as you shift in the passenger seat. Each touch sends a visible jolt through him — jaw tightening, breath catching, eyes darkening behind those tinted glasses — but he never stops you. Instead, he leans in just enough to murmur low and rough against your hair: “Keep that up, darling… and I won’t wait until we’re home.”

He used to avoid mirrors — hated seeing the scars, and the reflection of a face that he wasn't sure if it was still his own staring back. But once you start fucking in front of one, something shifts. You make him watch: watch how your body arches for him, how your eyes never leave his even when he tries to look away. “See that, honey?” he whisper while he’s pounding into you from behind, one hand wrapped around your throat, the other pinning your hip. “That’s you making me lose my fucking control...” It becomes a ritual. He’ll fuck you in front of the mirror until he can finally look at his own reflection without flinching — because he sees you wrecked and blissed-out because of him.

He prefers leather cuffs, silk ties, or his own hands pinning you down over elaborate shibari (too fussy, too vulnerable to "perform"). He loves wrists bound above your head so he can see your face — every flinch, every gasp, every time your eyes roll back. Heavy restraint makes him feel in total control, but he always leaves one hand free to touch your face or let you grab his hair if you need grounding.

He has a massive praise kink on the giving side — calling you “my perfect little thing” “so fucking good for me” “look how beautifully you take what I give you.” Hearing you whimper or beg under his words makes him rock-hard. But he secretly craves receiving it too. When you whisper “You're so strong,” “I love how you control me...” or “No one else could make me feel this safe.” mid-scene, his rhythm falters — he grips you harder, thrusts deeper, voice breaking into a rough “Say it again… fuck, say it.” It's the closest he gets to admitting he needs reassurance.

He likes spanking and slapping (on the thighs or ass—never the face unless it’s been pre-negotiated), as well as light flogging. He starts in control, building the intensity slowly based on your reactions. The sound of his palm connecting, your sharp inhale, the way your skin blooms red… it quiets the noise in his head. If you safeword or tense up in the wrong way, he stops instantly, switching to soothing rubs and soft kisses over the marks he’s left behind. Before he ever hits you in the face during sex, he asks about it at least three separate times—before either of you is too turned on to think clearly. And even in the moment, right before raising his hand, he asks again: “Are you sure, darling?” If the answer is yes, he begins with gentle slaps to your face while forcefully fucking your pussy—He'll only really slap you hard in the face after a few sessions and tests, and when he finally does, he'll be completely different. He'll make you open your mouth and spit on your tongue, ordering you to swallow while giving you a hard slap on the cheek at the end, all so that after sex he can give soft kisses to the red mark that's leftn in your skin.

He begs to cum inside without protection (even knowing the risks). When you allow it, he enters slowly, holds your thighs open and fucks you deep, rhythmically, groaning hoarsely: “Let me... please... let me mark you like this. I want to see my cum dripping out of you afterwards.” Every time he cums inside, he stays still, still hard, pressing his hips against yours to "hold" everything in, whispering "D-Don't leave... stay with me... please—you're the only real thing I still have... I love you—Please honey... I just love you s-so fucking much..."

★ 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 © 2026

A/N: yes... I'm alive

[wahapele]

BRO MY LIFE IS COMPLETE ISTG!!!!! Met Neil Ellice this Saturday at galaxycon and omg😭😭😭hes an absolute angel!!! He was so nice and funny. I felt like crying after meeting him(in a good way)🤣💙🧼

[kkusuka]

i feel the need to expand on this. Thank you to everyone who commented on the last part!! (and special thanks to @thedepreed94 @is-it-murder-if-youre-a-raven and @simonrileyfan who's comments inspired me to continue this!)

for you the repercussions are immediate; you're the single daughter of one of the kingdom's highest ranked dukes, mere minutes after the letter your father has a list of men who are dying to secure a spot in your bloodline. (and even worse, there are more men who want you for the sole purpose of continuing theirs.)

but you don't think about it. for a few days you think about nothing. your body attempts to continue your routine but it feels like there is nothing to continue. there is no receiver for your letters, there are no visits into town as a lone single woman, there are no more late night garden reading sessions. everything you've lived for up until this point had just been ripped from under you in the matter of less than 20 words.

and you become suddenly aware of everything you'd taken for granted. you hadn't been married off yet because it was assumed you would marry john, you were exempt from the diets your peers endured because you had no other man to impress. you didn’t have to show face at aristocratic parties to make connections because you assumed they'd already been made. your etiquette lessons become harsher, every step you take in your house is drowned in judgement, and your parents are disappointed.

to them, to your siblings, your friends, staff, even townsfolk you were the unwanted lady. what downfall could you possess that a man promised to you would be so desperate to get away? maybe you were unpleasant, and the price house did not want an unruly woman in their home, maybe you were soiled and he had discovered you and your secret lover. whatever it was, it was clearly a fault of yours. for everyone else you had been abandoned by your fiancé but to you, you've lost a friend.

and you feel it, hard. gala's become more like exhibitions, who can stand the furthest from you while staring the longest. your library dwindles because john is not there to supply more. there are no more invitations to afternoon tea parties or unformal get togethers. you're more than isolated from the rest of the kingdom and it becomes so suffocating. you need to get out and there are plenty of men with rural land that you can escape to; it doesn't matter how old or how mean, they just need to let you live without the constant weight of eyes on your back. and when you see his land boarders, maybe Phillip Graves wouldn't be such a bad husband at all.

it comes to john much later. mostly in the form of loneliness. your sister is beautiful and poised, the perfect lady, ('raised to be a great mother' his father mentioned but anytime he thinks of that the bile in his stomach starts to turn.) and no one treats him any differently; he spends gala's with the same men he trains with, there are more invitations than ever (a mix of congratulations and curiosity, your sister must have a special charm to rip john from you and everyone wants to see it) , in fact he feels free.

there are no more jabs about "his girl's" letter arriving, or feeling left out when his men take towns ladies to bed and he can't because he's having (very late) afternoon tea. and things with your sister are just so easy; she doesn't challenge his ideas (because she's never read any military theory), she doesn't just show up at his door expecting to be entertained (in fact she doesn't seek him out at all besides logistic matters), and she doesn't crowd him during parties or events (and it's slowly starting to dawn on him that she isn't very interested in him at all).

then it all falls apart. he's trying to get ready for one of the king's ridiculous parties and he waits nearly an hour before realizing that you aren't coming to finish getting ready with him. and he's trying to help with wedding planning, but he doesn't really know what he wants because all of his interests remind him of you. and it's all so lonely; no one else writes him daily letters, no one else wants to walk to meadow behind the tree line or ride out the lake, there's only so much swordsman practice and hunting a man can do before he just wants to have a damn night in with you.

so, he seeks you out.

down the roads he's followed all his life to the fields he's played in for decades to find the woman he's done it all with. except you're not there at all.

some meeting with a man from the countryside your handmaid recalled to john and the world goes dark. somewhere in his prideful plunder he'd forgotten that you couldn't wait for him forever (there wasn't even much waiting to do since he would be married soon). but he couldn't fathom you actually getting married to (someone who's not him) a man you haven't even known for a month. (his question is answered when he runs into your parents on his way out of the manor and all they can say is how proud they are to have introduced you to Graves after how depressed you'd been in the past weeks. and john's never felt worse)

[wahapele]

Gaz,Ghost and Price just chilling in the breakroom.

Reader:*walks into the breakroom

Reader: “Done”

Gaz: “Done with what?”

Reader: “Ghost told me to go fuck Johnny.”

Ghost: “I said to go fuck him up. Not fuck him.”

Reader:….

Ghost:…..

Gaz:….

Price:…..

Soap:*walks into the room with a giant grin on his face looking like he just ran a marathon

Price:*facepalms. Thinking how tf are these the same people he fights terrorist with.

[wahapele]

Tf141 x reader (all separate)

You wanted a pet but they end up bonding with it more than you.

Never in his life has he thought he’d ever be in a situation like this. He’s fights terroist for a living for godsakes?!

But here he is, staring down the one thing he knows he can’t win against.

You.

Specifically you with big puppy eyes pouting at him.

John: tells you no at first. As much as he love you, a puppy is a big responsibility. But you just keep giving him puppy dog eyes while saying “I’ll take good care of it, I promise” while cuddling the little beagle.

He ends up caving in and getting you the puppy as well as everything you need for it. And just like you said, you take real good care of the pup. Within a month the puppy you’ve named Archie, is now fully potty trained. It isn’t until you try recall training with Archie.

John has to help you out after another failed attempt and Archie halfway across an open field.

Archie now listening to every word John says like its law. The puppy listening to John more than you and even ignores you at times, to snuggle with John on the sofa.

John ends up loving the pup as if it were his own child.

What makes matters worse is that Archie makes the same kind of puppy dog eyes that you did to convince John to get him in the first place.

You thought John spoiled you? Well, this puppy has a different style collar and outfit for each day of the month and gourmet dog food every night.

Kyle: “no, absolutely not” he almost screams.

You’re holding up a small Burmese python while looking up at him as if its just a puppy you have in you hands.

Kyle loves you but it’s a no to bringing the little death noodle home with you two.

Takes about 30 minutes to convince you to pick out something else. Ends up leaving the store with a set of love birds. A boy and a girl.

You name them Sandy and Danny after the characters from Grease. Both birds taking an instant liking to Kyle.

You let them out during dinner and while sitting next to Kyle. Danny grabs Kyles finger and drags it towards your hand while Sandy drags your to his till eventually yall are basically holding hands.

While watching a movie you let the two love birds free roam. Sandy ends up perching herself on your shoulder while Danny makes himself comfortable on Kyles right next to you. All of you now facing towards the tv while watching the movie. Danny ends up pulling at Kyles shirt as if to drag him towards you. While Sandy pulls at yours.

Its not until bot of you are cuddle up on the couch that the two birds fly off to the side to cuddle up together themselves.

Letting out a laugh Kyle realizes he has his own literal wingmen now.

Johnny: Immediately says yes. Doesn’t even know what you want yet but he caved once he saw the look in your eyes.

You’re holding up a guinea pig with a little tuff of hair on its head that looks like a tiny mohawk. Joking that it’s Johnny Jr.

You name it Sudz though after a bit of teasing has Johnny pouting. He thinks its cute though.

Johnny ends up bonding with the little guy. Carrying Sudz everywhere with him. To the bathroom, the kitchen. Even on groceries runs.

The two are almost always together. You can never get alone time with either at this point.

Johnny jokingly saying that Sudz is his other half(soul wise not romantic).

Now here you are pouting cuz both your boyfriend and guinea pig are spending all their time together.

Johnnys ends up bringing home another guinea pig the next day that strangely resembles you.

Simon: Just gives you a deadpan stare. Doesn’t tell you yes but also doesn’t say no.

You’re pointing towards a tank with one of those chubby gold fishes thats black and white. Its face looks like it has a little skull mask that resembles Simons own mask.

You try asking again but with a “pretty pwease Si?” When he doesn’t answer the first time.

Simons already whipping out his card before you could even finish your sentence.

You both return home with a whole big set up for the little guy. Naming the fish Ghostie.

When Simons having a bit of quiet time he spends it by the tank while watching a game of football.

Ghostie grabbing his attention by swimming towards the side closest to Simon while doing little flips in the water.

Simon ends up teaching Ghostie how to do little tricks like in those Tiktoks with the fishes are jumping though hoops.

You come home one night overhearing Simon being like “You got this! Just one more jump and its a new record”.

Simon swinging his head around when he hears you behind him. Looking horrified like he was caught committing murder.

You’re to never speak of this to anyone he tells you with a blush. Little does he know, you managed to get it all on video.

[wahapele]

Ghost has a crush on the newest recruit but is so emotionally constipated that it looks like he’s just straight up angry

(Like, imagine being a new recruit, working out at the bases gym, to turn around to simon just starring you down…granted i might like it but it’d scare the shiz otta me first)

Ghost : *staring intensely at the new recruit

Soap: “Yer ‘onnna scare the poor (las/lad) away like ‘at”

Reader:*trying to avoid eye contact with ghost cuz they think he’s pissed at them

Reader:*looks up to see him still starring daggers at them. Squeaks, then rushes out the room

Ghost: “I’m gonna marry them”

Soap: “Yer ‘onna give ‘em a heart attack”

[wahapele]

You know the whole “Scary dog privilege” that was going around? Well what if you had your own 4 that didn’t stand for anyone talking bad about you?

Pairing: Platonic!tf141 x reader

Warnings: a bit of violence but nothing gory. Just mentions of fighting.

Imagine tf 141 with new recruit reader going out to the bar off base and another group there starts talking smack about reader and how they don’t deserve to be on the task force. Reader doesn’t seem bothered by the comments and just ignores them but the rest of 141 is absolutely livid by what they’re hearing.

Kyle is glaring daggers at the group while Simon is looking like he’s about to shot a bullet straight through each of them. Price has about almost shattered the glass hes drinking out of and reader has to grab ahold of Johnnys arm since he’s about halfway out his seat yelling profanities and how the can all shove it.

Reader telling him and the rest of the task force it’s not that serious and to just ignore them. It isn’t until one of the men of the group makes a comment on you probably sleeping through the ranks and thats why the 141 keeps you on. Next thing you know the 141 are on them. Absolutely beating the living daylights out of them and all reader can do is sit there and watch.

All of you getting kicked out of the bar. The boys looking a bit disheveled from the fight. Johnny still yelling how he ain’t finish with them yet. Simon has to literally drag him down the road to actually get him to leave the premises.

Kyle is right there next to reader holding them with his arm around their shoulder, telling them that what the other group said was pure shit and that you deserve to be on the task force. Simon grunting a quiet “exactly” out that you barley catch.

Each telling you that you do belong with the 141 and that you’re one of the most amazing people they’ve met. Strong, smart, and one helluva shot.

You have to poke johnnys cheek to stop him grumbling, instantly making the man light up and pull you into a hug. Simon patting your back and Price ruffling your hair.

All of you make your way down the road back to base. Kyle, you and johnny in the front all hands together swinging them back and forth while making small talk with one another. While Simon and Price are in the back of you three. Each giving the other a knowing look.

Price and Simon lag a bit more behind so you can’t hear them discussing ways to get the other group dishonorably discharged.

The next day, rumors are already spreading throughout base on what happened last night. The group of guys from last night scurry away at even the slightest sight if the 141.

Every other group now try’s their best to either get on your good side or try to avoid you completely so as to not get on the 141’s radar.

A new unspoken rule travels around. No one messes with the new member of task force 141.

[wahapele]

I have to get up in 3 hours to go to work but have been sucked in the rabbit hole which is cod fics. Last time i checked it was 9 at night and now its 6 in the morning…worth it

[wahapele]

I think Kyle would be the type to pamper his other half. Like, not just with gifts and dates but like acts of service kind of stuff.

I feel he’d love physical touch but also love doing stuff like giving them pedicures/manicures , massaging their shoulders after a day of work. Even just waking them up with a tray of breakfast in bed.

You ran out of your favorite tea? No problem. Three boxes of it appear 5 minutes later.

Kyle notices your work shoes are slowly starting to show wear. Boom! Five new pairs. He quote on quote said, he saw them and thought of you but of course you needed more than one to match with your other outfits.

Mans gives off absolute angel vibes. Spoiling his other half. And I think it transitions into bed as well.

Kyle is a pleased. He’d make sure his other half’s cummed at least twice before he does(at least if its a quickie. Otherwise he makes sure its x5 before him).

I also think he can be a little devil in bed as well. Overstimulating his partner half the time to the point they’re babbling.

But afterwards the aftercare is out of this world. Bubble bath drawn, full body massage, then finally a dinner and your favorite movie playing while you both are cuddle up underneath the sheets.

[wahapele]

Pairing: Boyfriend!soap x reader

Summary: Trying to get ready for work but your boyfriend has other plans

Genre: fluff/nsfw

Warnings: Nsfw. Talking about spicy time. Mature, might wanna be 18+ if you don’t like sexual talk.

Boyfriend!soap watching you get ready in the morning for work with heart eyes. Wondering how lucky he got.

Boyfriend!soap absolutely drolling when you give him a little twirl and ask him how you look. Saying how he loves it but it’d look better on the floor.

Boyfriend!soap standing up just to throw you over his shoulder and back on the bed. You landing with a surprised yelp.

Boyfriend!soap now successfully has you pinned down while littering kisses all across your face making you giggle at his stubble scratching your cheeks. Hands already going down the sides of your body and tugging at your clothes. Grumbling that you have on too much. Finally when he gets all your clothes off, he pounces like a tiger.

Boyfriend!soap and hour later, has you blissed out on your back screaming out in ecstasy. Definitely late for work at this point. Tears are rolling down your face with every thick drag of his cock.

Boyfriend!soap kissing away your tears as he ruts into you, whispering what a good bonnie you are. Pulling out orgasm after orgasm, that after the fourth one, your head is already cloudy and your vision blurs.

Boyfriend!soap overstimulating you too the point where you try crawling away. Pushing at his shoulders whimpering out “its too much”while your legs are already feeling like jello.

Boyfriend!soap pulling you back while telling you “Gonnae no’ dae that!” while ramming back into you with more fervor. And that you can “Gi’ mi one more. Canny ya?”

Him telling you how good you feel over and over again till you’re both reaching your pinnacle’s. Shooting thick ropes of cum into you. While your nails are digging into his back leaving long red lines that he’ll definitely be feeling later. Your name rolling off his tongue, as if singing a pray.

Boyfriend!soap rubbing your thighs after you both finish while cooing in your ear “tha gaol agam ort”.

Boyfriend!soap helping clean you up as you call your job saying an emergency happened at home and you couldn’t come in today. After hanging up and putting your phone back down your snuggling yourself into his side.

Boyfriend!soap pulling you more into his arms and kissing the top of your head as you both slowly drift back to sleep.

[wahapele]

I have this idea in my head of ghost x reader where he comes home after a mission but wants to surprise reader but its also like at the dead of the night. And since he didn’t let you know he’d be back you go straight to thinking its an intruder.

Im imagining that he’d have taught you how to defend yourself in case someone breaks in/messes with you while he’s not home.

Pairing: Ghost Simon Riley x reader

Summary:Ghost getting deployed means he leaves his pretty bird home by themselves. So what does he do? He teaches you little tricks of defending your house.

Genre: fluff

Ghost teaching you to be stealthy 🥷 to catch an intruder off guard and using their weight against.

Ghost even showing you how to set up little traps around the house that you can easily disarm and re-arm at night.

Ghost coming from deployment one night but wants to suprise his little bird.

Ghost being careful of the little traps by the door as to not set any off as to not wake you up.

Ghost being both caught off guard yet proud of you after setting off and almost being knocked out by a swinging paint can that you added to the staircase like in home alone. When did you add that?

Laying on the ground groaning while holding his aching head and then accidentally setting off all the other little traps he tried to avoid when getting up.

Ghost now covered in mouse traps, glue, legos and feather.

Ghost just smiling up at you when you rush down the stairs with a bat in your hands, ready to swing at him.

Ghost try’s reaching out to tell you its him but gets interrupted by you grabbing his outstretched hand and using his own weight to throw him over your shoulder. All he could do was let out a groan.

Afterwards you go to swing your bat before finally getting a good look at your “intruder”. Instantly dropping said bat to the ground.

Ghost being helped up while you lead him upstairs towards your room. Helping him wash up and putting a ice pack on the now growing lump on his forehead.

Ghost reassuring its ok after you break down crying for having hurt him. Him just hugging you while laughing a bit saying that he’s fine and that he’s proud you got the drop on him. Patting your head till you fall asleep in his arms.

Ghost thinking on how big of a ring he should get in the morning.

[wahapele]

Me fan girling over Cod men again recently has got my brain turning. So I give you boyfriend!soap x reader and how I think mornings would be like. Just a heads up, might not be the best since I haven’t written in YEEEEAARRS! But i needed to get this idea out of my head.

( Also, apologies in advance, realized I got to work on writing with accents. I have one myself(filipino) but definitely not used to writting a scottish one. So yeah. Not the best but wanted to get the idea out of my brain while it was still there.)

Pairing: John/Johnny “soap” McTavish x reader

Boyfriend!soap x reader (reader doesn’t have a specific gender in this)

Summary:Mornings with him.

Genre: fluff

Warnings: nothing explicit but little, very tiny, hint at spicy time but didn’t put it fully in. Just implied.

Boyfriend!soap who wakes you up with kisses all over your face and lays his entire body on you as you try to wiggle yourself free. Tells you he’ll move off you for a kiss. You trying to remind him that you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet. Him replying “Dae bother me”.

Boyfriend!soap reluctantly letting you get out of bed so you can get ready for the day. But not without a smack to the butt first.

Boyfriend!Soap tickling and making funny faces at you while you’re both in the bathroom brushing your teeth. Of course bending down to give you big ‘ole kiss once you’ve both finished. Wiggling his eyebrows at you after.

Boyfriend!soap snaking his arms around your waist and kissing the side of your neck while you’re making you both breakfast. Him whispering what “other” things he’d like for breakfast instead. “ Cannae ‘ave me starting ma dey without a taste bonnie. ” he says as his hands slowly trail down your hips.

Boyfriend!soap pouting after you smacked his hands with the spatula and told him to “behave”. Him muttering complaints under his breath but listening and snuggling back into you.

Boyfriend!soap helping with the dishes after breakfast saying “ A’ll do ‘em. ‘ant ‘ave you doing all the work bons” while kissing your forehead and shushing you away when you try to help.

Boyfriend!soap getting dragged by you to the couch in the living room after the dishes to watch a movie. Blankets covering you both as you snuggle into one another. A new movie that came out was playing, one that you’ve been dying to see but never had time to watch it while it was in theatres.

Boyfriend!soap not paying attention to the movie. Starts getting handsy again under the blanket while you try giving him a stern look cuz you he’s distracting you from the movie. Scolding him to knock it off and pay attention.

Boyfriend!soap saying “Dinnae ken ye’re talking aboot”. He’s just cuddling he says.

Boyfriend!soap getting turned on at one of the more romantic scenes in the movie and starts pressing into you more while littering your shoulder with kissing.

Turning to scold him again but eventually cracking and straight up laughing at the doggy eyes boyfriend!soap gives you. Planting a kiss on his lips while his eyes close and he makes a sound like all his problems just disappeared.

Boyfriend!soap absolutely pouncing on you after, making you squeal in surprise. Movie forgotten at this point.

Boyfriend!soap having to buy a copy of the movie after cuz you pouted that you didn’t get to finish it. Telling him that he has to watch it with you again.

Boyfriend!soap groaning about it but smiling all the same at you. Mans just thinking about repeating what happened an hour ago anyways. Sorry, don’t you’ll get through the movie unless you watch it alone.

Both of you deciding to take a little nap afterwards first though.

Boyfriend!soap staring at your sleeping face thanking whatever god/power that let him meet you. Falling asleep after giving you a peck on the forehead.