#<- me when I read any of Ghoul’s writing.
Text
wish you'd make me cry | c.h./the ghoul
➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader
➥ word count | 2.3k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, dom!cooper, frottage, sitting missionary, dirty talk, degradation kink, pet names, teasing, dacryphilia, bareback, drug/chem use (jet), shotgunning, high sex
➥ summary | "You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c
➥ notes | drabble (that's no longer a drabble lol) request for @tearueful, thank you bby!! this one really got away from me... i had to stop myself from writing lol. un-beta'd atm.
masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️
Setting up camp for the night in an abandoned warehouse, you and Cooper wait out a radstorm that blows in off the horizon. Because while he loves sitting outside with a smoke, soaking in the rads until he’s buzzing with frenetic energy, you don’t feel like hunting down RadAway tomorrow.
It’s quiet apart from the distant sound of super mutants and ferals roaming the city, the sporadic roar of thunder, and rain tinging off the sheet metal roof. There’s still hours left until daylight, and it doesn’t seem like the volatile weather will break soon.
Unfortunately, you’ve read all the Grognak comics you could get your grubby hands on three times over, and there’s not much else to pass the time besides scuff your boot along the concrete floor, and pluck at a stray thread hanging off your tattered sleeping bag.
Meanwhile, Cooper lounges on his side, unbothered. His hand - bare for once - props up his head, the unscarred skin of a commandeered digit stark against angry rad burns and ropey scars. Between the knuckles of his other hand, he rolls a vial of chem over and over in a mesmerizing flick of deft fingers.
A lantern sputters between you as the old battery struggles to keep it lit. Its jaundiced glow banishes the thick darkness; a fuzzy halo of light that elongates shadows and deepens the cuts of his face.
You kiss your teeth, and say, “Hey, you got any more Jet?”
Lazy eyes slide towards you. A hairless brow quirks. “And if I did,” he asks, the vial pausing between his fingers, “why you wanna know?”
“Dunno, I’m bored… wanna get high?”
“Well, shit,” he whistles, bares his teeth. A low, crackling laugh rumbles from his chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you ask sooner.”
You shrug and crack a knuckle.
To be honest, the idea hadn’t occurred to you at first. Now that it has, anticipation curls low in your belly. Not only has it been a long, long time since you last got high (the sensation a hazy, half-remembered dream of fuzzy warmth and whirling thoughts), you know Cooper always carries a top-notch stash.
The little chem fiend, you think fondly.
“So,” you prompt. “Wanna get high together or what?”
“Sure as shit, darlin’. Let’s party.”
He settles against the pockmarked wall beside you with a soft grunt, the grit of concrete digging into his back. Thigh to thigh, his body is a rad warm line of heat. A bloom of suffocating heat in the otherwise biting chill of a wasteland night. Gunpowder and smoke tickle your nose when he leans over to rifle through his bag, leather creaking.
Muted, mellow; everything fades into a silent companionship as you pass the red inhaler between you. With every puff, whorls of smoke curl from your mouths until a murky gray cloud hovers in the air; defining the edges of your crafted universe.
The acrid vapor of chem burns its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream. A bitter taste coats your fattened tongue, lips tingling as your palm smothers little coughs. A flood of static rushes down your nerve endings, sends your head spinning.
As your vision blurs, the tension leeches from rounded shoulders with a bone weary sigh. And with every slow clicking blink, colors spark to life in a distorted kaleidoscope. Head lolling to the side, you watch through heavy eyes as Cooper rattles the inhaler and takes a shallow hit.
When he exhales, little tendrils of smoke caress the plains of his cheek. Dance along the hollow nasal ridge. “Almost out.” He grunts, your fingers brushing when he passes the cartridge back. “Go on, now. Finish it.”
The kind gesture (for him) touches you.
Then a faraway thought flutters.
Snags - settles into a nebulous desire.
And before you can second guess yourself, a rumble of thunder shakes the building. Wipes away the last of your common sense, and reservations. After all, why not? He was nice enough to share. You can too.
To his credit, Cooper doesn’t startle when you slink into his lap - not that you expect him to, even without being chem-addled. He tracks your movements from beneath a heavy brow bone, the dark Nuka Cola of his eyes glittering like shattered glass in the wane light.
“Heh, this that kinda party then, darlin’?” he asks once you settle, your thighs draped over his hips and your ass flush with his crotch. “‘Cuz you’ll be wanting ta extricate yourself if it ain’t.”
—Before I do it for you.
Humming, you dip forward until your breasts brush over the wide expanse of his chest. Interest flickers to life behind your navel; cinders cracking and popping along your spine. While you’d never considered Cooper a sexual availability beforehand (what with his never-ending search for family), the laden weight of his gaze as it pauses on your chin before dropping lower sings through your blood.
Kickstarts your heart into a galloping stutter that thuds against your ribcage as longing hooks behind your navel, tugs sudden and sharp. The world spins.
Maybe, you think, peering at him from beneath the fan of your lashes. Maybe…
“Pervert,” you murmur, biting down on a small smile.
The knife-sharp smirk falls from his lips faster than a comedown from Psycho when your fingertips ghost over the curve of his jaw, turning his head towards you. Like this, you share breath, the scant space between you thrumming with energy.
So close you can see flecks of gold in the amber whiskey of his eyes.
Your forehead brushes over his; the rough drag of gnarled skin sending a shiver through your limbs. “Let’s share the last hit. S’only fair.”
Pausing, he considers you for several long moments.
His gaze bounces from yours to the playful curve of your mouth and back. A small eternity passes like this. And then - when you’re about to crawl away to lick your wounded pride - the most imperceptible of nods grants his assent.
There’s a hiss of aerosol, a lung burning inhale, and then you’re exhaling into the open gash of his mouth.
Wisps of smoke dance off your tongue onto his, the bow of your lips glancing off the swell of his top lip as you squirm closer. You feed him chem in a slow, steady stream until all the air has left you.
He groans - a wounded, low-throated sound.
Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring, his iris a thin ring around the Blackhole of his wide blown pupils. Hooded, hungry: a caged predator. You lick your lips, and in doing so, flick your tongue over his.
Your stomach swoops, “I --”
“You’re such a needy fuckin’ brat, y’know that, sweetheart?”
Whether it was an apology or some other retort stuck to the back of your teeth like hard candy, you’ll never know because in the next moment a rough hand knocks the Jet out of your hand. The inhaler cracks against the concrete with a plastic smack before skidding off into the darkness.
A burning palm curls around your wrist, calloused fingers digging into your fluttering pulse point. “Hey — hngg!”
He yanks you close, and you taste the violence in his kiss.
Harsh lips map out the softness of yours as teeth pinch and roll until your mouth is a swollen mess of tender flesh and smeared spit. Keeping up with the frenzied scrape of his tongue and the deep pulls of his kisses is like trying to weather a hurricane or fight off a Yao Guai with a single bullet.
“W-Wait,” you gasp, fingers twined through the lapels of his duster. “I don’t --”
“Shut up,” Cooper growls, worrying the swell of your bottom lip until a bead of blood bubbles to the surface. He sucks it away with a stifled moan, his hips kicking up against the plush of your ass.
“Shut the fuck up right now. You know what you was doing - trying ta act innocent when you’ve been gaggin’ for it.”
Flustered, you pull back, “No, that’s not true!”
It’s hard to keep your balance with chem pumping through your veins, and you sway to the side. The only thing keeping you upright is the bruising grip Cooper has on your wrist. “I haven’t been — you’re wr-rong.”
He spits out a mean spirited chuckle. “If that’s what you need ta tell yourself, sweetheart.” A critical eye drags down the pathetic sight you make, crumbled as you are in his lap. “But I know the truth. I felt you looking - pantin’ after me like a bitch in heat.”
“...”
Panic grips you by the throat, your pulse thundering against the thumb he strokes along the curve of your shoulder. You should’ve known better.
Of course, he’d notice.
He was The Ghoul after all - best bounty hunter from this coast to the next. It was his job to perceive everything around him, sus out friend from foe.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
What else can you say?
He brought you along (for whatever reason, fuck if you know why), and you’ve caused nothing but trouble every step of the way. It’s a wasteland miracle he hasn’t kicked your ass and left you bleeding in the dirt by now.
I have to fix this. Whatever it takes.
“I ain’t wanting you sorry.”
Gulping, you will away the sting of tears, and say, “Please, don’t kick me out.”
“Y’know, sometimes I think it’s a miracle you survived this long at all.”
“You don’t have to be so rude about it…”
“Listen good and well, sugar,” he says with a roll of his eyes, that tender hand brushing over your neck turning into a collar as he drags you close. His lips whisper over yours with every word. “I didn’t go through all of this bullshit just ta get rid of you. Now--”
Hips rut up into you, dragging the firm line of his growing erection along the soft globes of your ass. “Stop teasin’ and make yourself useful,” he says. “Or you will be sorry.”
Everything after that flicks in and out of focus like a zoetrope: the burning clasp of hands, the slick glide of hungry mouths, the frantic rock of your hips as you both chase after dry friction with a desperation that borders on madness.
Your hands don’t know where to settle, fluttering from the nape of his neck to the breadth of his shoulders to the rippling muscle of his stomach as he rocks into you. Bites at any exposed skin that he can until his teeth leave marks you’ll carry for days.
All the while the hard edges of his body crash into your softness like waves against an eroding shore. Liquid fire blazes in your belly like a raging wildfire, scorching you from the inside out until you’re dumb and dripping.
The chem snaking through your body enhances the littlest of sensations until you feel like one giant exposed nerve. Slick drenched and sweaty, you moan weakly and rest your forehead against his cheek.
“Please,” you slur, thighs trembling where they squeeze at his live-wire hips. “S’not enough - need more. Wanna cum. Please, please, please. Make me cum.”
Cooper bites out a curse, his fingers biting into the fat of your ass. “Yeah, s’that right, sweetheart - d’you think you deserve it for bein’ such a lil brat?”
“Yes, yes, please, I’ll do anything. Just - hhahh, fuck!”
The fabric of your panties clings to your folds, and your pants chafe.
Your clit throbs with every thud of your heartbeat, every firm grind of his cock and low husk of his voice. Want him seated so deep inside you choke - your poor pussy struggling to take his cock as he rides you so hard you cry.
“Anything?” he asks with a breathless chuckle.
The devilish gleam of his eyes rattles your bones, shivers of electric anticipation fizzing through your veins like Quantum.
“Well, shit. Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you regret it. Now, take off those fucking pants and ride my cock like a good girl.”
And when he bullies his way inside, those thick ridges dragging along gummy walls, you almost swallow your tongue. He’s so big - the biggest you’ve ever had.
Every inch is a struggle, a victory. He’s not patient, he’s not kind. You don’t want it any other way, spread so wide your pussy flutters pathetically, trying to push him out.
Then the fat head grazes past the rough patch of your g-spot, sliding home to kiss your cervix. Your knees lock around his ribs, your head tossing back as a high-pitched whine punches its way out of your throat.
“A-Ah! I can’t — oh shit — you’re so,” you babble. “Too much!”
An ache spears deep, roots behind your navel.
“Heh, you asked for it, sweetheart. Look at me.” A scarred thumb wicks away a tear as you peel your eyes open with a sniffle. “That’s it. Shit, you look s’pretty when you cry.”
He licks his skin clean, uses his wet thumb to reach between you and roll the pad over your abused clit. You jump, sliding up on his shaft only for gravity to drag you back down with a solid smack of skin, your limbs jello soft.
The motion slams him deeper and slick drips from you in a sticky gush to soak his balls. You cry out, reedy thin.
Cooper grunts, warns, “You keep doing that and we’re not stoppin’ til you’re dripping cum.”
Though the thick haze of chem and syrupy sweet pleasure, you cobble together a grin and lick your way into his mouth. Tangle your tongues and suck as your hips arch into his. “Please, ruin me,” you breathe.
A possessive greed glints at you from the depths of his hangman eyes.
“Don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you, sweetheart,” he promises.
#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x you#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard smut#the ghoul smut#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout smut#fallout fanfic
701 notes
·
View notes
Text
r/AmItheAsshole
u/bwckennedy77 ・ 15h
AITA for having sexual relations with a girl that looks like my daughter?
Asshole
(tags - daddy daughter incest, facial, oral sex, some coercion, bad writing bc i’m tired and can’t execute the idea properly, be nice and don’t look at any mistakes!! leon small dick ik but he’s big for my sake here.)
Hi Reddit! New to this thing, first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why. Now, to cut to the chase, my wife left me this year a little after our daughter (20) moved out. Our marriage (M47, F46) had been strained for a couple years prior so I understand why she ended things. I’m stretched thin with an intensive job that requires me to be away for days and weeks at a time. I thought she would get it considering it is related to the military/government, but I guess all those missed birthdays really got to her! I have no qualms with this and totally understand her reasoning haha.
I don’t get the time to go on dates because of work like I said before and I really don’t have the energy to go on them anyway. I have a bit of a drinking problem if I’m completely honest which is where my actual story starts I guess.
I was at a bar and I don’t usually attempt to pick up girls but sometimes they come onto me I don’t think I have the worst face in the world, some call it easy on the eyes. Long story short this girl comes up to me she’s pretty young, I don’t usually go for younger girls. I mean I don’t go for any girls at all because I was married up until recently obviously haha, but I’m not one to say no so I took her back to my place.
Chick got super freaked out and started getting her things when I bent her over in the bedroom. Thought it was just reality hitting her or some shit. She was calling me a creep and she left as my daughter let herself in, she’s back in town and only just arrived at that moment.
They looked at each other and it hit me. They looked the same. That chick saw the photo I have of my daughter on the cabinet and flipped. The chick leaves and my daughter gets super mad at me starts calling me names and she went up to her room and she won’t speak to me now. Didn’t think that it was that big of a deal you know? Don’t really know what I did wrong since it wasn’t intentional or anything but with the way she’s acting I just feel like a dick so AITA?
⇧ 52478 | ⇩ 💬 27821
Killer_RedQueen79 ・ 14h・ Supreme Court Just-Ass [124]
I hope to fucking god this is not you Leon.
bwckennedy77 OP・ 11h
I don’t know any Leon’s sorry
DuckieUnderWater ・ 13h ・ Partassipant [2]
Dude why the whole fucking life story. Title alone was enough for me to know that YTA and a fucking creep.
bwckennedy77 OP ・ 2h
I think you’re all taking this out of context! I didn’t want her because she looks like my daughter, I’m just easy!
NeonGenesis738 ・ 12h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]
first post got taken down, I can’t imagine why
I could name a few fucking reasons why you sick fuck. YTA. She should call the cops and go non contact.
bwckennedy77 OP ・ 5h
I am a super cop buddy! Very high rank!!!
NeonGenesis738 ・ 2h ・Asshole Enthusiast [6]
Of course you fucking are
YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA, YTA.
Leon scoffs, reading glasses slipping down the slant of his nose as he squints at his screen. He is not the fucking asshole here. No one is. You’re just a bit of a drama queen. Just like your ma, but you haven’t quite reached the levels of hysteria that Leon has managed in his day to day life.
Man, there’s never a clean slate. Just more and more shit piled on top of shit and more shit—Enough to break the ozone layer or whatever it is that’s going on in this little world. The other problems that he can’t save it from.
It has been two meandering days since you’ve talked to him, you move like a ghoul in the night to avoid a one on one Family Meeting that Leon has been itching to suggest. Reddit, as Claire suggested - not for this occasion, but for when he generally needs a variety of opinions - is unhelpful. Reddit is a crowd that wields its pitchforks at anything that passes by.
Like, seriously, it’s not like Leon picked her out of the crowd, he didn’t sit there waiting for her to show up—Well, he did let down the shortstack that approached him first, and the blonde with the hollow face, and the dude who bought him a drink. They just didn’t tickle his fancy and that’s alright. Can’t help having a type, and to clarify that type is not his daughter.
Divorce is tough, alright? Leon’s always looking for a friendly face, hers probably came with all those memories of you attached and he subconsciously picked her out. Fuckin’ made him release endorphins or some shit. And she was cute. Because you’re cute. Not in a weird way, just subjectively, you’re a cute girl with a nice body you can owe to him. Christ, it all sounds so wrong when he puts it into perspective, but that was never his intention.
He fucked his wife whenever he could get it up, he fucked her for a long fucking time for a number of years. Leon wouldn’t fuck a woman he finds ugly, he found her pretty hot, actually, and it just so happens that you look like your ma. So, you’re a good-looking kid—Not in a weird way. Never in a weird way.
That’s how it works, isn’t it? Kids look like their parents and parents can admire that and it doesn’t mean they want to fuck them.
But that girl was—She was hot, god damn it. He had her tits in his hands, squeezing them so tight she squealed, pushing them up and down, slapping them left and right, fat spilling past the gaps in his fingers. And so what if Leon thought that they looked like yours.
Maybe he thought about that time at the beach, when your string bikini did exactly what good string bikinis do - come undone.
(He had lowered his sunglasses and looked right at you.)
Maybe about that time you needed a towel and Leon took a peek at your body through the steamed glass when he tossed one over the shower door.
(“My eyes are closed, sweetheart!” He had promised while staring at you very open-eyed.)
Or when he sent you off to bed with a smack on the ass ‘cause he just wasn’t thinking too hard, Leon hardly ever thinks at all. He played it off as sportsmanship or whatever. Game got him amped up.
(You look like your mom from behind, he couldn’t help himself, it was an impulse—It was only natural.)
Leon has the bright idea to pass the time by watching porn, because honestly he’s been pent up since it happened. First time his dick kicked in weeks and she walked out on him all ‘cause she looked a little like his daughter. Weak. Freud never mentioned anything about this—Not that Leon knows much about that guy, nothing at all actually, but from what he’s heard, no dads crushing on daughters have ever been mentioned. Or maybe he's got reading to do.
Porn is usually a quick and easy fix. It is for everybody. Not Leon though, he’s gotta search hard for shit he likes, it’s not on the front page and it takes him forever to find one that’s suitable. Some of ‘em have too much dick, some of the positions just look painful, some of these clits aren’t being touched, and some of these girls are just plain ugly.
Then he finds one, she’s real cute, that’s all. Nothing is familiar about her eyes and nose and lips and body and hair. Not the way she smiles over her shoulder at him. Nothing at all.
He falls asleep with the tab open and a hand down his pants.
To avoid detection, you creep around the house when it’s lights out. Dad wakes up easily, military training and whatnot. So you’ve gotten used to this, sneaking leftovers from the fridge past midnight, watching the TV on silent, squinting to read the subtitles.
He didn’t mean it. You think. You hope. Leon is so… So harmless. Your dad is sweet and a little stupid, he’s kind and clueless and all of the things most dads are. He buys you an abundance of apples when you tell him you like apples, he throws out the oranges when you tell him you don’t like them ‘cause they make your hands smell funny. He stands on the porch watching the clouds, he sleeps alone in his king sized bed and hugs his pillow tight. He keeps his wedding ring on his bedside cabinet next to a picture of you
But that was weird. Seriously, you thought he put a mirror in the hall for a minute. Or that you were in some strange dreamscape. Or in a coma. Or all of the above.
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he just brushed you off like it meant nothing. Like that girl wasn’t your long lost twin, a sister he and your mom put up for adoption twenty years ago. So, yeah, you got a little pissy at him. ‘Cause it’s nothing to act nonchalant about.
Okay, and what if this is a little bit of a projection.
You got mad at him, real mad, ‘cause maybe you were a little jealous and maybe you like knowing that your dad is single and not fucking—Maybe you think about that time you went to the sauna together, all that sweat, beading along the firm lines of his abdomen, dripping down and down and down and melting into the fabric of his white towel. Maybe you wanted to see what was under there. Maybe you mix up the laundry on purpose, make it so he can’t find a nice shirt to wear and he gives up and does without one all together.
Maybe you do all those things. Maybe you don’t want to be a bad person, and the guilt outweighs your desires.
Or maybe you are just a very regular girl behaving in very regular ways to the sight of your dad fucking your lookalike. Maybe it’s that. God, please be that.
You wander into his room with a very dire problem. There’s a spider in the shower, and maybe you're ready for that Family Meeting now.
He’s sleeping, the blue light of his laptop casts a glow on his face, head tipped back, lips parted as he snores loudly. You almost don’t catch it. Then, when you go to shake him awake gently, you take a good look at his screen and find the weight of the world is not enough to support the wave of anger that rips through you, a tsunami tearing a nation in half.
No fucking way. No fucking way. No fucking way!
He’s watching porn, whatever, he can do that. Your dad is a grown man, and while you don’t exactly want to know about his tastes, you sorta had him figured out. The kind of man who watches corny studio porn with unwet pussy and dicks so big they shouldn’t be allowed within 10 feet of a vagina.
The girl on the screen—She looks like you. Albeit a little plastic in the way most professional pornstars are. Too-firm tits, filler migrating into the space above her lips, it hurts for her to smile and—Well, none of this fucking matters because she looks like you and your dad is watching her take two dicks in one hole.
And wow. She’s taking them well. Really… Really well. This isn’t so bad, you salute his taste a little more—Oh, wow, that guy is kind of… You recognise him, something about his face is familiar.
You press rewind.
It starts cheesy and devolves into something cheesier. It starts dirty and it ends with a dick in her pussy and one in her mouth, they might end up meeting in the middle, kiss tips in her guts.
It’s the loud one—The one that says all the dirty shit and spits in her mouth and slaps her tits and knocks her around—He looks like dad.
Mainly from the side, the straight edge of his nose, the way his eyes crease when he smiles down at her all mean.
(You skip anytime he faces the camera head on.)
“You’re really enjoying that, huh?”
“Jesus Christ—“ You jolt and knock your head against the headboard. “Dad!”
“Baby!”
“You scared me,” you say, elbowing him in the gut as he sits up, “I wasn’t—Why’re you watching this?”
“What? I can’t watch porn in my room now?” Leon pauses the video, he’s not upset, amused but not upset.
“No—I mean you can, do whatever you want, but why is it… She looks like…” You wave your hand at the screen like it’s a hologram and it’ll go if you wave it away. It’ll flicker if you stare at it long and hard enough.
“Like what, sweetheart?” He drapes his arm over your shoulders, pulls you into his chest as you stammer like a fucking idiot. “Go on, you’re a big girl.”
“Let go of me,” you tell him weakly, a shoddy attempt at sounding horrified. Like you should when you’re caught watching porn—Your dad’s porn nonetheless.
“No, that’s not what it is, baby, answer my question.” He holds you in place, hand running up and down your side, rubbing circles into the fat of your hip. “Who does she look like?”
“Like… Like no one.”
“No, I don’t think that’s right, c’mon, I’ll give you one more chance, baby.” Leon’s fingers are cool on your skin, slipping under the hem of your shirt and settling on your waist. “Who does she look like?”
You turn your head, but he catches your chin and forces you to stare at the screen, right into her face—Your face. “Like me…”
“See, baby?” He kisses your forehead like he has a million times before. “Knew you could do it, my good girl,” he says like he does after you ace your tests, when you learnt how to ride a bike, and now he’ll say it while you learn to work his dick. “And who does he look like?”
“…Like you, dad.”
“Well done, baby,” he coos, kissing your jaw, “you’re so smart, aren’t you, baby?”
“Stop it—“ Your body catches alight when his hands slide upwards, taking your tits into his hands and squeezing so tight they might pop. “Stop it, dad—I don’t…”
What if, and this is a big what if, what if you get pregnant and the punnett square is one-by-one—It’s a punnet rectangle at that point.
What if your mom finds out?
What if you like it?
That’s the worst part of it all - you will like it.
You’ve wanted this—You can’t even keep up the lie anymore. You’ve wanted him for so long you couldn’t hold back a smile at court, when they signed those papers and when mom moved out you kept smiling. Fuck. What is wrong with you?
“You liked that didn’t you?” Dad says in your ear, his breath is hot and he smells like soap and sweat. His stubble tickles your skin when he presses a wet kiss to your neck. “Bet it got your little pussy all wet.”
“No it didn’t.” You try to level yourself, taking a shuddering breath when his hand dips past your navel to toy with the bow that lines the middle of your waistband.
“Okay, prove it.”
“How am I meant to prove that, dad?” You click your tongue, lay the annoyance act on thick, but make no attempt to leave.
“You gotta show me, baby.” He flicks your forehead with his free hand, the other cups your mound. “Can feel you already.”
“Then I guess I don’t need to show you,” you breathe out, placing your trembling hand on the arm that’s wrapped around you while his fingers run up and down your clothed slit.
“Nah, think I need to know for sure.” Leon’s teeth nip at your ear lobe, tugging lightly as he pulls your panties taut to your cunt, a makeshift g-string, caught between your pussy lips. “So fat, baby, whatcha been feeding her?” Your dick. Your dick. God, please, feed it your dick. He pinches your cunt, pushing your lips together and your clit throbs so hard you think it might burst.
“Dad,” you gasp, back going ramrod straight as the fabric rubs up against your swollen clit. “Don’t say that—So weird, you’re so weird, actual fucking weirdo.”
“Look at you.” His shirt slips from your shoulder as you rut your hips up, his grip on the waistband tightens, bunches up even further, pushing against your clit so hard it might split in half. “Dirty little girl, why you doin’ that?” You feel dad’s smile on your neck.
“‘Cause…” You grab at his arm, pushing your face into his bicep to muffle an embarrassing whine and it’s so fucking big. Muscle cushioned by a layer of fat, when you dig your fingers into it, his skin dimples.
“‘Cause..?” Leon taps your clit, lets go of your panties to let your pussy breathe. “I’m waiting, baby.”
“Feels good, dad,” you whimper, hanging your head in shame, pressing your nose into the crease of his elbow as he slides your panties to the side.
“I know, baby, you can’t help yourself, can you?” Dad drags a finger along your slippery slit, pussy clicking wetly when he dips a finger inside your tight hole. “Think daddy spoiled you too much.”
“Not… Not true…” You stifle another noise into his bicep, suckling on his skin to taste it.
After this is all said and done, you might have to leave and never look back. You might have to emancipate yourself so you can marry him, take back your last name and pretend it was never yours to begin with.
Slowly, Leon rubs figure eights into your twitching clit, you grind into him, ears burning at the squelch of your drippy cunt—He isn’t even in your hole, he’s just playing with your clit and you’re making a mess, pussy all sloppy and noisy.
When you cum, it’s a gradual burn that washes over you like waves lapping at your ankles. Your toes curl and there’s a strangled noise in your throat as your pussy drips slick into the cupped palm of his hand.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Leon coos, “that’s what you needed, hm?”
You rock your hips into his hand as your high melts away, leaving half-guilt and half-regret and a wet pussy that’s perfect for fucking.
Dad lays you down, he still keeps mom’s perfume, he still sprays it on the bed sheets. It's the first thing you smell when your head hits the pillow with a soft thump. This is the bed you were made in, it’s the bed you slept in on sick days and nights when thunder was particularly loud. It’s the bed you slept in when dad was away and you and mom only had each for warmth.
What are you doing?
Well, you’re lifting your hips in the air so dad can take your panties off. Then you’re spreading your legs as far as they go so he gets a clear view of your pussy, glistening under the dimmed bulb, slick coating your puffy lips and drying on your inner thighs.
His sweats are lowered, cock springing up and smacking his abdomen, the tip drips and drizzles him in honey. Oh, god—It’s like big? You didn’t expect that, actually. You’d like to say you haven’t thought of it all, but you have and you do often.
“Think you can take it, baby?” Leon asks, tapping the fat head on your bud. Heart to heart, tip to clit. “Or does daddy need to eat your pussy?”
“I can take it, dad…” You nod, giving an earnest nod of your head and sizing up his cock, doing some mental mathematics as you try to calculate how many inches deep your pussy is and how big that fucking dick is. Although… You want his mouth on you—But that cock is more important right now.
“Atta girl.” He never pushes it in. You ache and shiver with each drag of his cock along your pussy, it bumps your clit and your whole body jolts.
For a moment, your mind and body disconnect, you’re watching a terribly taboo porn video and taking gross amounts of pleasure in it—Living out your fantasy through the bodies of others because it’s the closest you’ll ever get. But this is very much real and it is very much wrong.
When dad slides in, the fat head of his dick breaching your walls, the second he bottoms out, your pussy forces him back out as you cum for a second time, fucking gushing from the weight of his dick bumping into your cervix.
“Oh, baby, is it too much for you?” Sweetly, Leon presses a kiss between your tits as your chest heaves. “Is your pussy too little, daddy can try again another day, sweetheart.” He’s winding you up.
“Noo—Dad, please, ‘m want it so bad, please,” you beg incoherently, cunt dripping with your release.
“Okay, baby,” he abides, pressing the tip to your hole and pushing into you inch by inch. Being torn in half has never felt so good. “Only ‘cause I love you, my spoiled girl, huh?”
“Oh, fuck,” you sob, fat tears catching on your lower lashes as he stretches you out, “dad—daddy!”
“I know, baby, daddy’s right here,” Leon hums, he lowers his face to press into your tits, taking a peaked nipple into his mouth and popping off to suck on the other. Then he fucking motorboats you. Because of course he does.
You cry out, pushing at his head. “That’s so embarrassing, dad!” You manage to tell him through each of his mean thrusts, poking at your cervix like he’s trying to fuck your guts.
“‘S not, baby, dad just thinks your tits are real cute.” He pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulls until you squeal, smacking a fist against his chest.
Each drag of his dick inside of you is like—Gosh, you don’t know, it’s like heaven on earth or whatever the best feeling in this godforsaken place is. The smell of dew in the morning, a can of soda with a burger, the scent of cinnamon apple candles during Christmas time. It’s his dick rabbiting into your pussy with enough force to fuel a fucking rocket ship.
The schlick of your pussy goes unheard as his balls slap against your ass, and you dig your nails into his to push him deeper, it’s so fucking soft—Why is his ass so soft? 
“So little, baby.” Dad pouts down at you, one big hand on your tit and the other cups your cheek. “Daddy can’t even fit inside.”
You squeeze down on him, and your greedy cunt sucks his dick in to the best of your abilities, but there’s still an inch or two that you can’t possibly fit. The base of his cock is coated in a milky white ring, it drips down his balls and—God, you’re about to cum again. His thumb finds your clit, and thank god it does. You cum so hard you see stars and all of Saturn’s moons.
“Aw, baby, you needed that.” Dad continues to hump into your cunt, his furrowed brow and the puff of his breath on your face is almost too much for you to handle. “My baby, always mouthin’ off at me, you just needed some dick, didn’t you? Jus’ needed dad to play with this spoiled little cunt, hm?”
“Mhm…” You nod because what else are you meant to do? Say no? The man is right.
He pulls out and you whine, pussy gripping him so tight Leon groans as hm the head pops out with a lewd, wet sound. “C’mere, baby, come on.” He urges you to sit up, so you do, using your elbows to push up as you’re met face to face with his fat cock.
Leon smears the tip on your lips, and you swear to god you’d finish off a cute lip combo with his pre. You take the head into your mouth and suck on it, it’s velvety under your tongue, you wrap a hand around his shaft to make up for what you can’t suck. It’s uncut on the fat, skin folding and creasing each time you pump him, peeking out from underneath the hood so you can tongue his slit. He tastes like your pussy and something muskier.
He groans all deep and nice and smooth, low in his throat, makes your pussy tingle. You jerk his wet cock off, mouthing along the base of his cock until you suck on his sac, slurping and smacking like you oughta do for a dick like this. His balls plap, plap, plap against your hand and they tighten before he cums, thick sticky seed spilling from the tip like the slow trickle of honey. It paints your face white, dribbling down your cheeks and chin to stain your tits.
“Put those cute glasses on next time, baby.” Leon kisses your mouth, licking into it and tasting his salty cum. “The ones you wear to class.”
Dazed, guilty and giddy all at once, you look up at him with a frown. “Why?”
“‘Cause I wanna cum on them, stupid.” He flicks your forehead again, sends you out of his room with a hard smack on the ass.
“Wait, dad!” You hold onto him before Leon makes you leave.
“Hm?” He strokes your head as you pout up at him, softening so easily. “What’s up, sweetheart?”
“There’s a spider in the shower, can you get rid of it?”
“No,” he scoffs, “get outta here, ‘s all you use me for.”
“Dad!” You whine, latching onto him, “daddy, please, it’s so big! Please, we can… We can do it together, um, shower together not—not kill the spider together.”
Leon grumbles the entire time, he squashes it with a tissue and flushes it down the toilet, but any qualms are washed away by the hot water and your plush tits pressing to his chest as you stand facing him.
You could get used to this. You shouldn’t, but you will.
r/AmItheAsshole
u/bwckennedy77 ・ 1m
AITA for fucking my daughter?
#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#leon s kennedy smut#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#leon s kennedy x you#leon kennedy x you
502 notes
·
View notes
Text
I need to rant about the Fallout show
Because this is the person I am. Full spoilers, so I’m putting it behind a Keep Reading:
I’m a huge sucker for Fallout (yes even 3&4). And I went into the Fallout show with some… trepidation. Amazon has been a mixed bag on adaptations, we could have been blessed with a Good Omens, or cursed by a Rings of Power. But early buzz and reviews seemed positive, so I slammed the whole thing in one night with my spouse (we were staying at my in-laws house and they have Prime. Time was a factor.)
And y’know? I was really enjoying it! The characters were fun, the plot was engaging enough, and the costumes and visual design were extremely on point. There were some minor lore quibbles to be had: Ghouls needing some kind of medicine to not go feral. Really, more Enclave holdouts? Timeline and date whoopsies. Wait are they in California? Where the hell is the NCR?
I made a face at Shady Sands being bombed and the NCR collapsing. But I wasn’t completely out of the story. Based on what I had seen so far, I thought it was building to a reveal that the Brotherhood had done it. That the more zealous turn they took in Fallout 4, which has clearly carried to how they are portrayed in the show, lead them to bombing the NCR. War never changes, as they say. Maximus even says when asked what happened to Shady Sands: “The same thing that always happens.” Yeah, it leans into Bethesda’s weird desire to keep the Fallout world in a state of perpetual wastelands full of raiders and no civilization, but it wasn’t so terrible that I couldn’t still enjoy the show.
But then.
BUT THEN.
Episode 8, and the reveal of Vault-Tec apparently being the ones who dropped the first bomb in the Great War.
I was surprised to hear that some fans have apparently been debating over who fired first? Some even asked Tim Cain about it?
That’s really odd to me because, in the games, there is already a pretty definitive answer to which side sparked the Great War:
Who fucking cares?
The world ended. What does it matter who shot first?
There is no China, no United States, no communists or capitalists left to fight about it.
It's a powerful little bit of lore.
For all the posturing, all the promises from each nation that their way is the true way, all the nationalism, the militarism, and blind loyalty to flags over humanity, they both lost. Everyone lost. All that remains of the ideologies and nations that were so important to the people of 2077 is faint echoes over vast expanses of radioactive ash.
Who started the end?
No one knows. No one cares.
It only matters that their conflict was so bitter, so all-consuming, that one of them dropped their bombs, and the other dropped theirs in return.
The truest legacy of the old world is the devastation left by their final, most horrific war.
Can we do better?
Then the show says "Nah, Vault-Tec did it. It's not a commentary on human nature and the futility of self-destructive conflict, it was actually these guys, these mustache twirling villains huddled in a darkened room literally plotting to end the whole world so they can rule what's left."
And I can see the attempt to make this a critique of capitalism. I actually paused the show to praise a bit of writing when Coop is talking with Charlie before the war, when Charlie tells him that the “cattle ranchers are in charge” to illustrate how capitalism and corporations hold too much sway over the government, it felt very in line with how in New Vegas one of the recurring critiques of the NCR is that all the real power is in the hands of the “brahmin barons.” Nice parallel, spot on!
But “we’ll set off total thermonuclear war so we can rule the ashes and have a True Monopoly” isn’t capitalism. It’s just dumb “we’re the baddies” writing.
And then Shady Sands was also Vault-Tec?! Forget any meaning in the NCR falling to the same corruption and/or factional fighting that consumed the old world, they were literally just bombed by the evil shadow conspiracy that apparently also killed the old world. Hank gives this speech about factions fighting and the futility of it all while we see the Brotherhood fighting Moldaver’s NCR remnant, and like, no! You can’t say that when you’ve made it so neither the old world or the NCR fell to war with another faction! It was you! You and your band of cryogenic supervillains!
I don't care that they changed it. Timelines and dates and little retcons don’t bother me all that much. I care that they changed it to something so much worse.
#fallout#fallout tv show#fallout spoilers#nerdy rant about shit that doesn't actually matter but has been stewing in my head for a week now
311 notes
·
View notes
Text
Starlett - Part 1
Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)
Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some fluff
Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence
Summary: The Ghoul remembers a recruit of Moldaver, by the name of Irene Taylor, who he met before the war.
This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡
Part 2 | Part 3 | Final part
2296
Cooper's weather-beaten boots thudded on the dirt, the stones crackling beneath his heels.
The town was too quiet for there not to be a surprise waiting for him somewhere amongst the pre-war rubble so when a glimpse of movement caught his attention and he pulled his gun.
A kid, no older than 15 held up his hands in fear.
"Please don't shoot!"
Coopers sunken eyes narrowed. "Do yourself a favour and scram. If you try anything I will shoot you. Understand?"
The kid nodded frantically in agreement and Cooper gestured with his gun for the kid to get out of there.
As the boy ran off, a large, rolled up piece of paper fell out of his backpack and unfurled face-up in the dirt.
Cooper stepped over as he re-holstered his gun, and looked down at it out of curiosity. When he saw a familiar face on it he bent down to pick it up and held it out in front of him.
"Irene Taylor," It read. "Songbird of Hollywood Hills."
On the poster was a large photograph of a glamorous woman behind a microphone, and a look of a fond, yet faded, remembrance appeared on his scarred features.
2077
"This is a little public for a meeting isn't it?" Cooper asked as he and Lee Muldaver made their way to an empty table at a local jazz club called the Bird Cage.
"My contact is meeting us here. Don't worry about being recognised, this place is used to celebrities, they mind their own business."
They took a seat and settled in and Cooper turned his attention to the band, the singer had a lovely voice and it reminded him of the band that played at his wedding. He shook the memory from his mind.
"So where is this contact?" He asked.
Muldaver smiled a little. "You're listening to her."
He looked back at the singer.
Now that he thought about it, he did recognise her. He'd seen her face on posters for jazz clubs all over the city but never gave them much thought.
"Her husband is Frank Taylor, he's an executive for Vault Tec. She feeds us any information she can get. She's one of our best."
She had wonderful stage presence, captivating the audience with a rendition of "Them There Eyes" by Billie Holiday. Her champagne coloured dress sparkled in the stage lights, and she had every person in that room wrapped around her finger, and she knew it.
When she finished the song the room roared with applause and she stepped off the stage, politely thanking patrons as they came up to her on her way over.
Muldaver rose from her seat to meet her as she reached their table.
"Lee." Irene smiled fondly as she hugged her. "Thank you for coming."
"That was wonderful as always."
"Stop it you." Irene joked.
"May I introduce Mr. Cooper Howard?"
Irene looked at him and he held out his hand, having stood up with Muldaver.
"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Howard." She smiled as she took his hand.
"The pleasure is mine." He replied with a charming grin.
She sat down at their table and waved the waiter down for a round of drinks.
"How is everything going? Is Frank well?" Muldaver asked.
Cooper noticed Irene make a subtle, nervous glance at the bar before answering. "He's fine." She replied. "You said there was something you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Yes, our new recruit."
Muldaver looked at Cooper and Irene seemed surprised, unable to reply for a few seconds.
"I apologise for seeming so shocked, but with all of your promotions with Vault Tec, you're one of the last people I'd expect."
"Don't worry about it." He replied, reassuring her. "I understand. I'm not the first I'd expect either."
"Well, I guess this proves how convincing Lee can be." She smiled again, but there was something in that smile that seemed pained somehow.
Just then, a man came up behind them with a drink in his hand and put the other on Irene's shoulder and she jumped a little.
By her reaction Cooper thought it was another random patron come to say hello and invade her space, but he kissed her on the cheek and she looked up and smiled at him.
"Hello darling." She said.
"Hi Frank, how have you been?" Muldaver smiled.
"Oh, you know, more hours and no pay rise." He joked.
It was obvious he was tipsy and the discomfort on Irene's face as her husband sat down next to her made Cooper's eyes narrow a little.
"Darling, have you met Mr. Howard?"
"No I haven't had the pleasure." Frank replied, reaching over to shake his hand. "Nice to finally meet you Mr. Howard, your advert for vault 4 was terrific, exactly what we were looking for. I was sad to hear about your resignation."
Cooper shifted in his seat and chuckled uncomfortably, trying to retain his professionalism. "Ah, well, I'm not getting any younger." He joked.
Frank laughed, a little louder than was necessary. "Aren't we all! Say, is it true that it was your real dog in A Man and His Dog?".
Cooper took a sip of his drink that had just arrived. "Yes, Roosevelt, he's a beloved member of our little family."
"Well isn't that just the cutest darn thing." He smiled.
Irene was shrinking. Frank's presence was drowning the one that was only just captivating an entire audience. Then he noticed it and his chest pulsed with distain.
"Mr. Taylor, would you mind if I stole your wife for a dance?"
Irene looked slightly worried and stuttered her reply. "U-um, I don't..." She looked at Frank, almost for permission.
He hesitated but wanted to save face in front of everyone. "Of course." He smiled.
She stood up and walked over to take Cooper's extended hand.
He lead her to the dance floor. The band was playing an instrumental of "Good Morning Heartache" and he placed a hand on her waist.
"Not too close." She said. She realised her fear had slipped out and very quickly composed herself. "Don't want Frank to get jealous." She chuckled, disguising her reaction with a joking tone.
He stayed a modest distance from her as they began swaying to the music.
"He's playing it down but Frank is a big fan of yours. He's seen almost all of your movies, even dressed as your role in The Man From Calabasas for Halloween a few years back."
"You know," he said. "There's a funny story from that set. In the scene where I had to lasso that steer, the first take it somehow managed to pull me clean off my horse. I had a terrible black eye for two weeks after that, but the makeup team covered it up so well that no one could tell. In other words, I know a cover job when I see one."
She nervously glanced at her shoulder, briefly enough that hopefully Frank wouldn't notice if he was watching her.
"I know we just met, and it's none of my business, but Lee told me you married him for the mission. If he's hurting you, you need to tell her."
"She knows." Irene replied.
"She knows? And she hasn't pulled you out?"
"I asked her not to."
"Why?"
"Because this cause means a lot to me, and whatever I'm going through is for the greater good. I'm the only one with my foot in the door this high up, at least before you showed up."
He was getting angry now, not at anyone in particular, but at the unnecessary situation.
"Forgive me, but that's about the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever heard. You don't need to be in this any more than I do."
She scoffed dismissively. "You don't understand Mr. Howard, this is my purpose, stopping Vault Tec in any way that I can, even if it's one password or document at a time."
Part 2
#fallout#fallout tv#fallout tv show#fallout tv series#cooper howard#the ghoul#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x fem reader#cooper howard x fem!reader#cooper howard x fem oc#cooper howard x fem!oc#the ghoul and reader#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x fem reader#the ghoul x fem!reader#the ghoul x oc#the ghoul x fem!oc#the ghoul x fem oc#cooper howard fic#the ghoul fic#cooper howard fanfic#the ghoul fanfic#Spotify
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
And You Know That It Takes Two
Rating: E for Explicit
Relationship(s): Copia/Dewdrop
Tags: transitional period between era iv and era v, banter, slice of life, first time, first kiss, handjobs. beta'd AND correctly translated italian!
Words: 3731
Summary: “Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”
When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.
special thanks to @miasmaghoul for beta'ing and @foxybouquet for the italian translations ♡
EDIT: now with ART from the fabulous @noahl-art. merci beaucoup, nono!! find his full artwork here
Read on AO3 or under the cut:
Caro: dear
Stai bene?: (Are) you okay?
Ti piace?: Do you like this?/Does this feel good?
Merdaccia infernale: (roughly) infernal fucking shit. Closest to "unholy shit".
Proprio così: That’s it.
“D’you think Lucifer would want us to have black mass every Saturday?” Dew pokes the wooden arm of Copia’s chair with the toe of his boot. “Shouldn’t we be exercising our sinful wiles instead of listening to you drone on about the Dark One?”
Copia tugs on a scrap of paper trapped beneath the ghoul’s thigh. “You do plenty of that on your off time, my ghoul,” he teases. He looks over his reading glasses, offering a smirk. Dew can hear the unspoken eh? at the end of his sentence, so much so he can’t help rolling his eyes and smirking back.
“How would you know, old man?” Dew fires back, flicking the hem of Copia’s trousers with his tail. He leans in closer. Elbows resting on his slightly spread knees until his face is level with the anti-pope’s. “Listening in on your free time?” The fire ghoul smiles wickedly, giving him an obvious once over. He cocks his head and bites his tongue between his teeth, waiting for an answer.
Copia’s face rosies a bit, but he returns to his chicken scratch. He jots down a few words before he mutters: “I am sure you do not fantasize your Papa spying on you, caro.”
“Maybe I don’t.” A lie. “Anyway, I think Rain’s loud enough to hear across the fuckin’ abbey. Probably have a soundtrack of water ghoul moans to lull you to sleep every other night,” Dew snickers.
Copia just shakes his head with an amused sigh and continues taking notes. Little chunks of writing in the margins of photocopies of Latin texts, scrawling in both Italian and English in a little notebook off to the side. Dew’s struck with just how patient this man is, endlessly so. He can get crabby on tour, just like any of them, restless and tired, but he really is kind to him and his pack.
The fire ghoul hums thoughtfully and returns to his upright position. Leaning back into the circles of bare desk he cleared earlier for his hands. “Do you get tired of putting up with us, Papa?” he asks casually.
“Dewdrop,” Copia says with a measured tone. He puts his pen down, and his glasses too, looking up at his lead guitarist and steepling his fingers. They’re devoid of gloves, Dew notices in passing, his nails neatly trimmed and his skin smooth and humanly wrinkly. “We have been working together for how many years now?”
Dew shrugs. “A few.”
“Si, quite a few, hm?” Copia agrees. He swivels his chair so his body faces Dew more directly and places a gentle hand on his knee. “Why then, my ghoul, would you think I am ‘putting up with you,’ as you put it?”
“Don’t tell me you actually like us,” Dew says sarcastically. But Copia’s hand is warm on his knee, and he’s trying not to focus too much on how he’s looking at him right now, all soft eyes and a worried crease in his brow.
“Well, I do. Of course I do,” he assures the ghoul. “Quite fond of you all, actually. It was, admittedly, a little rocky when we first met. But.” There’s that heh Dew was expecting just moments before. “Here we are, no?”
When Copia starts rubbing his thumb up and down the inside of his knee, Dew’s brain stops working. His gaze zeros in to the fingers splayed across the side of his thigh, so foreign, so bare, so pink against the black of his casual uniform pants. His mind is full of static and all he can hear is his own blood pumping through his head. But there’s a weird something tugging in his ribcage; something new yet old, unnamed but familiar.
He’s quiet for so long that Copia clears his throat and gives his knee a polite pat before taking his hand away. He makes to go back to his notes, but Dew mourns the loss of his hand immediately. His pen barely touches the pages before the fire ghoul sobers up and inhales sharply.
“Uh,” he blurts out stupidly, shaking his head and squinting his eyes at Copia. Unsure what to say but determined to say something. “You mean that?” Immediately he wants to crawl back into himself—back into the Pit, even—for sounding so small. Vulnerable.
“Yes, I do,” Copia says quietly, genuinely. He taps his pen against the paper, little dots of black littering the line beneath his skip this? note. Instead of resuming his annotations, he sets the pen down once more, looking up at the ghoul perched atop his desk. His white eye is suddenly piercing in the lamplight, and he’s looking at him like he can see more than just the ghoul sitting in front of him.
“Well, I guess we’re . . . fond of you too, or whatever you wanna call it,” he mocks, aiming for levity. Dew’s tail flicks, ruffling the hem of Copia’s pants again.
Copia chuckles. “Well, that is good then,” he smiles.
Dew hums. Offers a one-sided smile in return. Easy. He could leave it at that; resume the relaxed banter about sermons and his new duties as Papa while Copia gets increasingly tired and/or annoyed and shoos him away with a chocolate truffle in hand (the ones he keeps stashed in his desk drawer for evenings like this).
He could. But in the same moment, he decides he’s tired of tip-toeing around the idea of what this man is to him. He wades out into the waters, throwing a line.
“Is that . . . the only thing you feel for us?” he says at length, quieter. He scoots his thigh closer to the anti-pope’s hand. Encouraging him to touch again, if he wants. The sudden heat in his belly hoping he does. He wades a little deeper. “For me?”
Now it’s Copia’s turn to falter, fingers twitching at the fabric of Dew’s trousers. He looks down at Dew’s thigh, then back up to his face. Searching his copper eyes for something, anything, his thoughts as loud as if Dew were a quintessence ghoul.
“I . . .” he trails off, a failed start. He clears his throat. “I am, as they say, only human. So there are, perhaps, other . . . things. Si.”
Dew grabs his hand gently, placing it just above where it was moments ago, confidence building. “Fantasies, maybe?”
“Dewdrop—”
“For how bold you are on stage, you sure are fuckin’ shy in private, Papa.”
Copia huffs a laugh, moving his hand tentatively along Dew’s thigh. “Eh . . . reserved, maybe. But I don’t know about shy, my ghoul.” He shuffles his chair so he’s situated back between the fire ghoul’s dangling legs.
Dew smirks. “See? Can call me motherfucker in front of thousands of screaming girls, but it’s my ghoul in here.”
“Ah, but that is the difference. They do not get the privilege of seeing you offstage.” A beat. “Though, I imagine they would do a lot of things for that privilege,” he mutters.
Dew bites his tongue in asserting that he is, in fact, a motherfucker offstage too. Instead, he tilts his head so his ashy hair cascades over his shoulder and spreads his legs further, hooking a foot in the arm of Copia’s chair and tugging it closer. He’s baring all of himself now, literally and figuratively. Potentially risking his position, too, if this goes south.
But by the look on the anti-pope’s face, they’re both too deep to swim back now.
“And what’re you gonna do with that privilege, Papa?”
“You’re asking?” he deflects, putting the other hand on the opposite thigh.
“If you don’t touch me in the next five seconds, old man, I swear to Satan—”
“Like this?” Copia smooths his hand up the inside of Dew’s thigh, running along the seam of his pants until he reaches where the ghoul’s started to chub up. His breath hitches, head tilting back.
“Yeah,” he breathes. He looks back down at his hand, tucking chin to chest as he watches those fingers press just so, right where the tip of his dick sits already sticky in his boxers. He bites his lip with a stifled noise.
“Long time we’ve danced around each other, I think,” Copia says. Dew just nods, flexing his hips into his fingers to get more friction. Copia presses more firmly, taking the hint. Drawing a firm line down the ridge of his clothed shaft.
“Humans and ghouls, well . . .” he trails off, looking up at Dew.
“You’ve thought about it,” he replies simply.
“Of course. Of course I have, caro. I–” he laughs, shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, look at you.” He stops himself, color rising to his cheeks. He drops his gaze, focusing back on the hand on Dew’s fly.
The fire ghoul watches him trace a finger around the button before reaching down himself, popping it open. “What about me?” he asks softly, inviting. Shifting his hips again to encourage him to continue.
“Not just fishing for compliments, I hope,” Copia teases lightly, a little bit of that stage persona shining through as he drags the zipper down.
“That’s not what—hh-oh.” He cuts himself off with a stuttered breath of a moan, Copia’s hand having reached past his fly and into his pants to pet at the dot of wetness sticking his boxers to his tip. The look of pure curiosity—wonder, really—on the man’s face as he feels him up has his stomach flipping. “Fuck, keep doing that.”
“You tell me what you like, my ghoul, and I will do it,” he whispers.
Dew groans as another bead of precum blurts out into his boxers, wet at just his words. “Keep teasing it,” he breathes. “Shit, see how wet you can get it.” He twitches under Copia’s fingers as he wraps his hand around his clothed cock, thumb swiping back and forth over the head. Firm, but just light enough that it makes Dew keen for more.
Copia continues the little motions, over and over until Dew’s underwear clings to him, saturated with pre. The friction of it and the intensity of Copia’s gaze on him has him dizzy, wanting. The man’s thumb presses over his slit, and he can’t help his eyes rolling back, thighs twitching towards each other.
“F-fuck,” he stutters.
Copia rubs his other hand over Dew’s thigh, soothing. “Stai bene? Good?”
The fire ghoul nods, hair falling off his shoulders to frame his face. “More than,” he groans. He bites his lip, bucking into Copia’s hand. “Again—do it agai—yes, Satanas, yes.”
The anti-pope presses into his slit again, this time dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridge with even pressure. Humming as he works it back and forth. It’s so sensitive, so instantly overwhelming that Dew has to consciously restrain himself from gouging his claws into the wood. He lets his head drop back, facing the ceiling and biting his lip to stave off the rush of arousal that threatens to make him spill in his pants.
Below him, Copia sighs. “Beautiful, caro,” he comments.
Dew half-snorts, half-groans, bringing his chin back down to his chest. “You flatter me,” he says with an eye roll.
“They say it gets one everywhere, no?”
“If by ‘everywhere’ you mean ‘in my pants’.”
“If that is where you want me.”
Dew sucks his teeth, scoffs a little in disbelief. Eyebrows twitching upwards when Copia fingers the elastic of his boxers, blunt nails scratching at the peach fuzz on his stomach. He can’t get a grasp on the anti-pope’s tone, switching so fast between charming and soft it makes his head spin. He’s seen both moods separately, of course, fired back his own quips with a silver tongue or begrudgingly accepted praise and a head pat for a productive rehearsal. But having a cocktail of both leaves him with mental whiplash.
The hand making his dick wet probably isn’t helping in that department.
So he nods instead, helping the man shimmy down the waistband of his boxers to snuggle it under his balls, freeing his aching length. Dew hisses at the cool air of the room breezing over the slick-coated head—though, it’s replaced with a puff of hot air when Copia breathes:
“May I?”
Dew nods again, widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows as a silent duh. Copia chuckles at that, scooting a little closer. He smooths his other hand up the fire ghoul’s thigh, up, up, up until he stops at his hip and rests his palm there, forearm dropping to sit on top of his leg. Dew’s stuck watching its ascent and misses the moment the anti-pope reaches for him, wrapping his fingers gently around the base of his cock and stroking upwards.
“Lucifer,” he chokes out. He snaps his gaze to where their skin meets and watches his dick kick hard in Copia’s fist, more precum welling up in the slit.
“Ti piace?” Copia continues to stroke slowly, not immediately translating as earlier. His accent curls around Dew’s eardrums, the Italian twisting with foreignness and short-circuiting his language synapses. He shakes his head, begging the small box of Italian in his brain labeled ‘Papa’s Nonsense Words’ to make sense of the phrase.
He blinks at Copia’s expectant gaze. “Huh?” he asks eloquently, forcing the word through an embarrassing moan.
“Does this feel good?” he supplies, nodding toward his hand.
The fire ghoul stares at the man’s hand, now wet with his own slick as it glides up and down. When his brain finally catches up to him, he barks a bewildered laugh. “I’m gonna have to learn more fuckin’ Italian for this,” he mumbles.
“Oh.” Copia laughs too, realizing his little slip-up. Dew’s shoulders shake with his own renewed laughter. Giggles passing between the two as if they were twelve-year-olds who just pulled off a prank on their teacher, not a fifty-something leader of a Satanic church jerking off a near immortal hellbeast turned quasi-human.
But the shared laughter is familiar. Comforting, in a way. Something to dissolve that final layer of caution that sat like oil on water between them.
“You are an endless delight, my ghoul,” Copia sighs, huffing out a last chuckle.
“I’ll give you an endless—uuh-nholy ff–fuck.” Copia runs his thumb over the slit of Dew’s cock, and his sentence is reduced to an eye-rolling moan. He grabs hold of the anti-pope’s forearm that rests on his leg, fingers digging into the muscle as he drools out a fat roll of precum.
Copia hums and smears it around the head, pulling down the foreskin to rub at the sensitive underside. It’s all the courtesy he’s granted before the man goes back to stroking him in earnest, skirting over the head with each downward pass and tightening around the base when he pulls up.
Dew grips his forearm tighter, thighs jumping with each tease of his frenulum. “Faster,” he begs. “And tighter. Fuck, feels s’ good.”
“Merdaccia infernale, are you always so . . .” Copia shakes his head, letting the room fill with the lewd, creamy sounds of Dew’s slick-soaked cock.
“Wet?” Dew supplies as a choked-off noise. “Not al–hah–always. Not since—” his eyes roll back again, too caught in pleasure to be completely coherent. “The–shit–the—” Dew flails his hand in some nonsensical gesture.
“Si, si.” The man understands without further elaboration that he means his elemental transition. That, despite the effective evaporation of his water, the born-again fire ghoul still carries traits from his original alignment—including dribbling pre like a leaky tap.
But Copia knows, doesn’t need him to explain or elaborate. Just tightens his grip and speeds his hand, looking up at Dew with a gaze that cuts him right down to the core. Intense, yet soft and admiring. Desire flickering just behind that.
“Shit,” Dew hisses, letting his eyes close fully. Sinking into it. His hips are moving of their own accord now, little twitches that meet each downstroke, just barely fucking into Copia’s fist. It’s so much better than it has right to be, but Dew doesn’t care. All he cares about is the way Copia’s hand feels on his dick, the way his other hand grips his hip, the way his breathing grows heavier and tickles the fine hairs at the base of his dick, how it chills the wetness at the tip only to be warmed by his fingers within the same second.
“Oh, oh, ohhhh fuck, Papa, fuck.” His pleasure heightens suddenly, the backs of his thighs going pleasantly tingly and his toes curling in his boots. He can feel it starting to build, balls drawing closer to his body with every stroke.
“Close?” Copia whispers, gripping Dew’s hip tighter and shifting in his chair. He grunts a little, no doubt filled out in his slacks too. Dew can’t confirm from this angle, especially not with the way his vision blurs, doubles even. But he has to be, if his wavering voice is anything to go by.
Dew throbs at just the idea of his cock straining against his zipper, balls heavy and squished between his thighs as he watches the fire ghoul come apart. Neglecting it as he showers Dew with undivided attention. He’s assaulted with the mental image of Copia in those tight, white pants from his Cardinal days, absolutely everything on display, and he groans.
He’s shaking now, stomach jumping as his breath starts to quicken. He’s sure his eyes are wild as he looks at the man below him, whining through his teeth as his hand moves faster, faster. Dew watches Copia bite his lip and look down at the movements of his hand, and the sudden fantasy image of that mouth kissing the tip of his cock makes him grip the anti-pope’s forearm until it threatens to bruise, nearly doubling over with the swell of impending orgasm.
Dew needs him. He needs him so badly.
“Gonna cum—fuck, please,” he moans, breath quickening to shortened gasps. “Kiss me—please, m’ gonna—Papa—” Dew grasps at the man’s shirt collar, pulling at it to get him to stand. Dragging him in by the shoulders and kissing him fiercely, whining when Copia groans into his mouth and pumps him even faster. The scent on him is instantly intoxicating; notes of neroli and patchouli, dull wax from the black patches of makeup, the barest hint of incense smoke underneath. All pressed directly into his nostrils where Dew’s nose smushes against his.
“Proprio così,” Copia mumbles, encouraging. His other arm loops around to cradle him between the shoulder blades, hand threading through his hair to grasp and hold as he kisses him deeply. That little bit of tension on Dew’s scalp sends a zing of heat right to his dick, and he’s moaning like a whore as he scrabbles at Copia’s shirt, ready to fall over the edge.
“Fucking. Fu–uhh, uh, uhh—” Dew loses all sense of words as he clings to him, mouth dropping open and tongue drooling over Copia’s lips. He cums hard, spilling over his hand with a shuddering groan, bucking into that wet fist until he’s risking sliding off the edge of the desk. He doesn’t, of course, braced and embraced by Copia’s body as he is.
Dew’s head drops to his shoulder as he rides out the seemingly endless spasms. Far too many for a handy, if he’s being honest. But the anti-pope works him over until he’s milked dry, whispering more words into his hair that he doesn’t understand and rubbing a soothing hand over his back.
“Shit,” he rasps. After a few more moments he peeks down at his lap—lucid enough now to mind his horns—where his black pants are now streaked with white, Copia’s hand resting on his fly also coated in the stuff. He shakes his head softly and laughs.
“Got me good, old man.”
“Dewdrop . . .” His tone is pleading, breathless. Dew lifts his head and the hand on his back migrates to the side of his face, caressing softly. He leans into it as he looks at Copia, his face flushed and a look of pure want and adoration in his eyes. “Please, caro.”
He doesn’t need to ask what he needs, eyes flicking down to the tent in his pants and back up again. Dew nods. Moves the hands around Copia’s neck to the back of his head, pulling him in.
It’s less feverish this time. Softer and slower, but far from chaste. Idly he wonders if any of the others have had him like this: privately in his office, a mere exchange of something fleeting, or hot and heavy in a storage closet after a show, frantic and adrenaline-fueled.
If any of them have, they’ve never told. He’ll go back to the ghoul wing smelling of him, unless he runs straight to the shower. Douse himself in scalding hot water until he can barely smell himself.
But he won’t.
Dew slides into the space in front of Copia, ignoring the mess on his dick as he presses close to the man. Licking into his mouth and sliding their tongues together as Copia’s hands start to roam. The fire ghoul slots a thigh between his legs as his palms reach his waist, pressing against his crotch.
Copia whines in his throat, twisting his fingers into the fabric of Dew’s shirt. He’s hard as steel against his leg, throbbing when Dew presses harder and tugging at him like he could still get closer than he already is.
“Sit down,” Dew rumbles. He breaks the kiss and holds his gaze as he presses on his shoulders, easing him back into the desk chair. Down, down, down until Dew looms over him. He smirks slightly, confidence and ease returning to him as their positions switch. Running his thumb along the painted upper lip then dragging down to the bare one.
Wordlessly, the fire ghoul sinks to his knees. Scoots Copia to the edge of his chair so he can spread his legs. He smooths his palms up his thighs, his infernal heat seeping through the trousers. He watches Copia’s face as he pets at him, cupping and rubbing at his cock through the layers of fabric. The man’s chest heaves. Hands gripping the wooden arms of his chair. Exhaling shakily as Dew traces a claw around the button on his fly.
“Allow me,” Dew purrs.
#the band ghost#fanfic#the band ghost fanfic#ghost fanfic#dewdrop ghoul#cardinal copia#papa emeritus iv#copia x dewdrop#dewdrop x copia#papa x dewdrop#dewdrop x papa#copia/dewdrop#dewdrop/copia#papa/dewdrop#dewdrop/papa#CORRECTLY translated italian#dews gonna go back to the dorms and theyre gonna smell copia on him and then EVERYONES gonna want him
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy Lasagna Day
For @madisyn-grace 💙 Happy (belated) Birthday!
Papa Emeritus IV x Female Reader ~ Today is your birthday but as the hours pass without Copia saying anything you get more and more upset...
Warnings: a smidge of angst, Copia being a sweet dork, body worship, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 3200 words
~~ thank you @foxybouquet for the Italian help and @gothdaddyissues for the dividers ~~
You couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.
Granted he had been very busy preparing for the tour. Budget meetings, costume fittings, practicing with the ghouls…it all was very time consuming. You tried your best to keep him on schedule, that was your job after all, but it was easy for little things to slip through the cracks. A missed lunch with Imperator here, a missed phone call with Saltarian there. It happens and those were easy to reschedule. But today was different, today was supposed to be for you and despite writing it on his calendar and setting an alert on his phone Copia still hadn’t told you the words you’ve been waiting for.
He still hadn’t wished you a happy birthday.
You hadn’t been upset when he was already gone from bed that morning, there was an early budget meeting he needed to get to and he hated waking you up if you weren’t needed as well. Even when your paths had crossed mid-morning without anything more than a kiss on your cheek you were ok. He had been running late and after leaving a smear of black lipstick on you he’d taken off down the hallway, his robes swishing around his ankles. Copia and the ghouls had a dress rehearsal from lunch time through most of the afternoon and while you normally would watch today you had your own budget meeting you weren’t able to skip out on.
So after all of that you had tracked him down, finding him with his nose buried in paperwork at his desk. He was mumbling something in Italian so fiercely under his breath he didn’t even notice when you sat down in one of the chairs across from him. The growing irritation you had felt through the day was threatening to boil over as you watched him. You knew he was busy but today was supposed to be special! Copia was always the best at birthdays! He always picked out the most thoughtful gifts for you and would spend the day pampering you. At this point in the day you knew you were going to sound pissy but you couldn’t help it.
“Copia, do you know what today is?”
“Today?” He didn’t even pause in his writing as he answered. “I think today is the day I finally murder Terzo so I don’t have to suffer through reading his shit handwriting ever again.”
Normally him insulting his brother would make you laugh but instead you just gritted your teeth before you tried again.
“No, that is not what today is.”
“No?” He leaned back in his chair, rolling his neck to ease the ache he always got by the end of the day. “There’s not a Black Mass tonight is there? I swear Sister will find any excuse under the su–”
“No, Copia. There’s not a Black Mass.”
“Ah, bene. Well then I’m not sure wh–oh no. Dolcezza!” Copia shoved his chair back and walked quickly around his desk, his hands reaching out for yours. With an exaggerated groan he dropped to his knees in front of you. “Mi dispiace. I can’t believe I forgot what day it is.”
He looked so disappointed in himself you squeezed his hands, your irritation already melting away.
“Copia, It’s ok. You’ve been so busy, I underst–”
“I know how much you enjoy lasagna day in the cafeteria.”
“What?”
He grinned and dropped a few sloppy kisses into your palms before jumping up and going over to the phone on his desk.
“Lasagna day! I will call over to them and have some brought to us. That sounds perfect, no?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” It took you a moment before you realized you had said that outloud but at this point you didn’t even care. “That’s what you think today is?!”
“I thought you liked lasagna day!”
“Copia, if you say lasagna day one more time I will burn the abbey to the ground.”
“Ai, ok ok.” He placed the phone receiver back in its cradle and fidgeted for a moment, seemingly glancing around the room for ideas. “Can I have a clue?”
With a growl you jumped up from the chair and started stalking towards the door. Copia called your name and asked you to wait but you ignored him, ripping the door open and practically fleeing towards you and Copia’s quarters. Papa Emeritus or not, you’d barricade the door so he couldn’t get in. You’d have a nice, quiet birthday evening with yourself and no one else. Well, just you and Copia’s rats. Copia could sleep on the floor of his office for all you cared.
Your irritation waned as you got closer to home. You felt bad being so angry at him, especially with everything he had going on, but it stung to have him forget. To have him be so absorbed in so many different things and lose track of something important to you. When you got to the door you took a moment after slipping the key in and rested your head against the cool wood. Maybe you wouldn’t make him sleep in his office tonight, but he definitely needed to make it up to you. With a sigh you opened the door but after just a few steps inside you froze, your mouth dropping open at the sight before you.
“Oh.”
The main room was awash in the soft glow of dozens of candles. There was one practically on every available surface. Any other free space was taken over by flowers, bouquets of every shape and size scattered around the room. They were your favorite kinds, all delicately tied together with ribbon. A trail of loose petals led from the door to the coffee table in front of the couch and you slowly made your way over. In the middle of the table was a small card, your name written on the front in Copia’s delicate handwriting. With shaking fingers you picked it up, tears already forming in your eyes as you read what he had written down.
“Will you forgive me?” The sound of his voice startled you and you dropped the note as you spun around. “Can you forgive an old man like me?”
“You’re not old Copia.” When he reached a hand out for one of yours you sighed and let him have it, smiling softly when he brought it up to his lips to kiss the back. “It’s ok.”
“Ach, no. No, it’s not ok.” He was shaking his head vigorously, his salt and pepper hair bouncing out of its neat style. “I remembered while we were practicing ‘Rats’, right in the middle of Dewdrop’s solo. Made everyone stop while I panicked about it.”
You took a step closer, reaching up to brush some of the hair off his forehead.
“You could’ve called me or sent me a text when you realized.”
“I know I should have but I started thinking of how I could make it up to you and well,” He waved a hand around the room. “We ended practice early and the ghouls set all this up. I thought it would be a nice surprise but I shouldn’t have waited until the end of the day to show you.”
“It is a nice surprise, Copia. It’s beautiful.” You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “Grazie, Papa.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“Oh, I suppose so.” You stepped closer again so you were pressed against his chest, your fingers fiddling with the buttons of his robes. “You’ll have to make it up to me though.”
“Will I? What will it take?” He shrugged off his robe and let it fall to the ground. You made sure to kick it further away from the nearest candles. Despite your threat earlier you didn’t actually want to burn the abbey down. Copia was left in his favorite pants with just his frilly sleeved shirt and vest on. “How can I make it up to you?”
“A kiss. To start with.”
“Un bacio?” He slipped his arms around your waist and leaned in to brush his lips against yours. It was so soft and sweet you just wanted to melt against him. He hummed as he pulled away, reaching up to sweep a thumb across your bottom lip. “That’s a small price to pay.”
“I said to start with, Copia.”
“Ah, silly me. Should have known you’d demand more.”
He leaned in again and you met him half way, the kiss this time far less sweet. His mouth was demanding, his tongue soon pressing between your lips and flicking against your own. A deep groan echoed in his chest when you nipped at his tongue and he quickly pushed one of his hands into your hair to angle your head better. His other hand slid down your back and grabbed your ass, his fingers flexing against you through your habit. It wasn’t long before you had to break away, gasping for air and trembling against him.
“Copia. Copia, please.”
"Sì, dolcezza? What does my birthday girl want?”
“You. I want you. I need you, Copia. Please.”
Your only answer was another fierce kiss, but it was all the answer you needed. He started to walk you back towards the bedroom, his hands steady on your hips to keep you from tripping. When the back of your knees hit the bed you sat down, your breath shuddering out of you when he dropped to his knees before you.
“You deserve to be worshiped, dolcezza. Not just on this day, but every day for the rest of your life.” He gently slipped your shoes off, setting them to the side before gripping one of your stocking covered feet and beginning to massage the bottom with his thumbs. His eyes trailed up your body, from your toes to your face and he gave you one of his dirty grins before speaking again. “Will you let me worship you?”
“Whatever you want, Copia.”
“I want you. Always.” He slid his hands from your feet up your legs, only stopping when he reached the top of your stockings. Copia ran his fingers along the sensitive skin there before tugging them down. He dropped kisses along your skin as it was exposed, leaving black lipstick marks on your thighs, your knees and all the way down to the top of your feet. When he set the stockings aside he caught your eyes again, the grin coming back when he noticed how heavily you were breathing. “Beautiful, you are so beautiful covered in my kisses.”
Copia stood up then, his hands going to his vest to work on getting it off. When he was finished and it was on the floor you reached up to help him with his shirt. Desire making both of your hands a little shaky but when it was finally undone it joined everything else on the floor and your hands were on Copia’s chest, your fingers tangling in his chest hair and your mouth leaving your own kiss marks on his belly and sides. You kept going until his hand tangled in your hair and he tilted your head up to meet his gaze.
“Is this ok?”
He smiled, nodding softly before leaning down to capture your lips with his for a moment.
“It is more than ok, dolcezza. But I think tonight should be about you, eh?”
Well, you weren’t going to argue with him. You smirked and grabbed the hem of your habit, yanking it up and over your head in one quick movement. It had barely hit the floor before he had you scooting back on the bed so he could crawl on after you. He planted his knees between your legs and dropped down to kiss along the inside of one of your thighs. Copia held your other thigh, massaging your flesh as his kisses got closer and closer to your cunt.
Your panties were already soaked and Copia groaned when he was close enough to smell how aroused you were. He ran a finger up and down the wet fabric, applying more and more pressure on each pass. When his finger pressed against your entrance you cried out, hooking a leg around his waist to try to get him closer.
“Copia! Please.”
“Easy now, your Papa will take care of you.”
You let your leg fall away and he scooted down so his face hovered over your cunt. His hot breath fanned across your damp skin and you began to tremble even more than you had been. He placed a hand back on your thigh, his eyes watching as he ran it up and down your skin. His fingers digging into your flesh periodically. When his hand finally got close to your cunt again he pushed your panties out of the way and pressed his thumb between your lips, rubbing it right over your wet entrance.
“Fuck.”
“Not yet, dolcezza, but soon.”
His eyes didn’t leave your cunt as he continued to rub his thumb back and forth. Your entrance started to spasm, your body desperate for him to be inside of you. He groaned at the sight, hooking his thumb right at the rim and then pressing his mouth in. As his tongue flicked and swirled over you it felt like stars were bursting in your vision. Copia pressed closer, his tongue going as far as it could inside of you while his nose rubbed against your clit.
When your legs began to shake he moved his mouth away and ran his tongue up to your clit. He sucked it between his lips while two of his fingers pushed inside of you. They pumped back and forth, keeping a steady pace while he teased your clit with his tongue and teeth. It was starting to feel like something was going to explode inside of you, the pleasure building up to such a great height you didn’t have the strength to keep your eyes open. It wasn’t until he growled your name out that you were able to look down again, your eyes meeting his over your trembling body.
“Watch me, dolcezza.”
You obeyed, your mouth falling open as he lowered his to your flesh again. The noises he was making as he tasted you were loud in the room. Deep moans as he continued to fuck you with his fingers and lick up the moisure you were creating. As his fingers stroked across your inner walls you felt your peak hit you and with a wail you fell over the edge, gasping as wave after wave of pleasure ran over you. You had no idea how much time had passed when you finally came back to yourself, your eyes slowly blinking open to find Copia watching you, his mouth pressed against your belly.
He gave you a quick smile before pressing more kisses across your skin. His lipstick was mostly gone, but you could feel the moisture from your cunt being rubbed across your stomach. Copia moved to the side, teasing his teeth across whatever skin he could reach. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle when he was over your rib cage, the sensitive skin there jumping under his attention. The days worth of stubble wasn’t helping either and you hissed when he deliberately rubbed his cheek against your skin.
“Hey, quit that.”
Copia snorted, sitting up a bit and letting his eyes drag over your body.
“Bellissima. My beautiful birthday girl.”
You smirked, sitting up a bit yourself and placing your hands on the ties of his pants.
“That’s right Papa, I'm the birthday girl and I think I’m ready for my gift now.”
“The candles and flowers weren’t enough?”
He groaned, his head falling back when you freed his cock. It was hard and leaking at the tip, jumping in your hand when you began to stroke it.
“I think I deserve a little something extra.”
Copia laughed and quickly moved to sit on the side of the bed so he could maneuver his pants off. He was back over you in an instant when he was finally free and he went to work on your bra, his hands eagerly cupping your breasts when they were uncovered. You bit your lip when his thumbs rubbed across your nipples, the pleasure starting to build up in your body again.
“Is this enough, dolcezza?”
You couldn’t keep your moan in but you shook your head, covering his hands with your own.
“Fuck me.”
“Oh, you need my cock, do you?” You nodded frantically, gasping when he let go of your breasts and sat up between your legs. He took his cock in hand and ran it up and down your cunt, smiling each time it caught at your entrance. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes, please Copia.”
You both groaned when he pressed inside, your body stretching around his thick flesh. He hooked an arm under one of your thighs and pressed it up so he could get as deep as he could. Copia ground his hips against yours and you began to pant, desperate for him to start fucking you. He seemed to sense your desperation because he began to slowly pull out before quickly thrusting back in, a quick movement that punched the air out of your lungs.
“That’s it, dolcezza. Take it, take me.”
It wasn’t long before his movements became frantic, his thrusts becoming rough and jarring. You would definitely be feeling it in the morning but it was worth it to watch your Papa lose control. To watch him lose control because of you. It was always good, so good to be with him like this. For him to have all his attention on you, for him to kiss and touch every part of you he could reach. You used to be so self conscious but after hearing the things he’d whisper into your skin you began to believe him, you started to feel as beautiful as he claimed you to be.
“Oh, Copia! I’m close, I’m so close.”
“Bene, I want you to come for me. I want to feel you come apart on my cock.”
It didn’t take much longer before you reached your peak again and you felt his cock kick inside of you, filling you with his release. With a groan he collapsed over you, careful as always not to jar you too much. He adjusted both of your bodies enough so that he could cradle you against him, his cock still inside of you. You laid your head over his chest, listening as his racing heart slowed down just like yours was.
The room was quiet without the moans or heavy breathing and you soon heard him humming something softly against your hair. It took you a moment before you realized what it was and you lifted your head to smile at him.
“Buon compleanno, dolcezza.”
You leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. When you pulled away he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye and you couldn’t help but narrow your own, suspicious as to what was causing it.
“What is it?”
“Happy birthday and,” Copia leaned in and gave you another sweet kiss. “Happy lasagna day.”
My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar
#my fics#my writing#papa emeritus iv x female reader#copia x female reader#the band ghost fanfiction#ghost band fanfiction#copia fanfiction#papa emeritus iv fanfiction#ghost band fanfic#the band ghost fanfic#papa emeritus x reader
254 notes
·
View notes
Note
"I wish you would write a fic where Dewdrop is keeping Aether company during a stormy night in the infirmary and maybe helps him welcome a new life on earth"
The second I saw this one I knew I needed to write it. Sorry it took me so long.
2k (I got carried away, I'm SORRY) of Dewther fluff, and slice of life intimacy. No smut, not even a hint of it. Non-graphic scene of a sibling having a very normal and healthy birth (it's pretty glossed over, but it does happen and Dew and Aeth are in the room). Dew being good in a pinch. Dew's immaculate bedside manner (not sarcasm). Aether and Dew being so fucking in love it's sickening. This one is all sweet guys, I don't know what to tell you.
Dew hasn’t left Aether’s side since the tour ended. He stepped off the bus and glued himself to the bigger ghoul. Pressing his face into Aether’s broad chest and inhaling deep. Tucking himself under his arm and letting Aether lead him back into the Abbey. Held close.
That was a couple weeks ago. Dew isn’t quite as physically attached as he was for the first few days–but he’s still always in sight or earshot. Dragging Aether into his bed every night, wrapping himself around him. They shower together, and if they don’t–Dew isn’t far. Sitting in the adjoining bedroom with a book. One eye on the bathroom door–cracked just enough.
Chores haven’t started back up for the band ghouls yet. They’re on a break. So Dew takes the opportunity to follow Aether everywhere. Not that Aether minds. He’s not used to having a little shadow–but it’s kind of nice. Nice to be able to turn and talk to Dew when he wants. Nice to not spend long, endless, nights in the infirmary alone and in silence anymore. The abbey feels full again. And Dew is here, and warm, and always present.
Most nights, Dew sits himself at the nurse station while Aether makes his rounds. He fucks around on his phone, or reads a book, or flirts with whatever sibling drew the short straw and got stuck with the night shift. Aether watches him as he moves from room to room. Their eyes meeting over dimly lit hallways. Lips quirking up as they see each other. Still here. Within touching distance.
Tonight, Dew’s alone at the nurses desk. There’s a blizzard raging outside and Aether’s usual sibling had called in sick. Probably not really sick. Just reluctant to uncurl from a nice warm bed on a very stormy night. Aether doesn’t mind. Night shifts tend to be boring anyway. Emergencies are rare, and most of their beds now are filled with humans suffering from the flu or some resperatory thing that’s been going around. Both viruses unable to make the jump from human to ghoul, so Dew, unlike the human that was supposed to be here, is safe. His bedside manner leaves a little to be desired. But Aether doesn’t really care about that. All he needs is someone to put pills in cups and measure medicine and hand him something when he’s asked.
Dew does all of it without complaint. He’s more squeamish than Aether. Proclaiming, without any sort of filter, that he isn’t going to empty any bedpans, Aeth. That’s fucking gross.
Aether doesn’t have the heart to tell him that there aren’t any bedpans in play right now. It’s quiet now–rounds are done. Dew’s settled in behind the nurses station with a book. Booted feet propped up on the desk, leaning just a little too far back in the chair. Aether watches him–can’t help it. Eyes drawn to the way Dew’s lips move a little as he reads, the way they always do when he’s fully engrossed.
Aether watches the little furrow appear between his brow. He’ll smooth it away with his thumb later, when he finally gets out of here and takes Dew to bed. Pulling that overwarm body against his and pressing his cool fingers to all of the places Dew finds stuck. A clenched jaw, a creased brow, tense shoulders.
Aether stands at the end of the infirmary hallway and watches him turn page after page. He should do something else. His job isn’t to watch Dewdrop. The abbey counts on him, needs him. His work is important. But he hasn’t been able to do this for months. And Dew has been attentive ever since he got home. Always aware, always watching–the way Aether is now. Cataloging all the little things about him that he missed.
Dew turns the page again and looks up, meeting Aether’s eyes. Aether can’t hear his chuckle for the distance and the noise of a thousand medical machines around him but he sees it, and the eyeroll that accompanies it.
“What?” Dew asks, loud enough to be heard but still classifying as a whisper.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
“Can’t a guy just look?”
He expects another smartass remark, but what he gets is a little more color on Dew’s cheeks, another eye roll. Eyes darting back down into the book to avoid really looking at Aether–to avoid having to admit that he likes it when Aether looks.
Aether turns back to his job–spell not broken just interrupted. He stands in front of the big window that overlooks the wide back yard of the abbey and looks out as he counts pills into paper cups labeled with names and times. The hill that slopes down to the lake. The forest at the far edge. If it was light out he’d be able to see the ridge of Mountain’s favorite greenhouse, and the maze even further off. As it is–all he sees is white. The snow falling in big fluffy flakes–faster than seems possible. Piling high on the grass. Burying the abbey under a blanket of white they won’t be free of until late spring.
Their easy calm is broken when the infirmary door slams open. Two harried looking siblings burst in, one of them heavily pregnant. There’s sweat beading on her forehead–her habit gone, or forgotten. Auburn hair sticking to her skin in damp clumps. The other sibling holds onto her, supports her weight as best they can as they rush into the infirmary and right up to the nurses desk and a stunned Dewdrop.
Dew puts his book down. “Uh–Aeth?”
Aether is already there, coming up behind them to slot against the sister’s other side. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wild and pain filled. He knows this sister–she’s been coming to him for all of her check-ups throughout her pregnancy, no issues, entirely healthy. And, Aether calculates a week early. Nothing to worry about. He puts his hand on the small of her back.
“How far apart, Isla?”
“Five minutes just like you said,” Isla winces as another contraction hits and she bares down on the nurses station. Dew looks ready to flee. Eyes darting between Aether and the two siblings.
“Good,” Aether says, calm, low. He pulls Isla and her friend away from the nurses desk and leads them into a room just off of it–empty and freshly cleaned. He gives Isla instructions to change into a hospital gown, and leaves her in her friend’s capable hands while he darts back into the main lobby. Dew’s got his book in his hand again–and his coat slung over his arm.
“I’ll be in my room when you’re done–”
“I need your help,” Aether says without argument. Gathering things he needs from the nurses station by the arm full. He’s delivered plenty of babies alone–but it’s ill advised. And Dew is right here–he’s not getting out of this.
“Oh hell no, this is way above my pay grade.”
“There is no pay grade. Put on some gloves and help me,” Aether pauses, fully looks at Dew. There’s fear in his dilated pupils, in the rushed shallow breaths expanding his chest. Aether pins him with his gaze–allows himself this moment. “Please.”
Dew sighs, he grimaces. Uncomfortable but unable to say no to Aether–not when he really does need him. He tosses his book down on the desk. “Promise I’m not going to like, accidentally kill a baby or something?”
“You will not be going anywhere near any babies.” Aether promises, and Dew groans, but snaps on a pair of gloves and follows Aether into the room. Trailing behind him nervously. Isla is on the bed when they get there. Her friend, who introduces themself as Rae, standing up by her head. Their hand carding over Isla’s forehead, brushing sweaty hair away from her temples. Their fingers are laced together.
Aether talks them through everything he does. Every touch, every movement. It’s as for Isla and Rae as it is for Dew who is still radiationg panic despite having pulled himself together enough that the humans in the room don’t notice.
Dew, contrary to his own beliefs about hismelf, is good under pressure. Aether won’t tell him this–not yet anyway–but there is no one else he’d rather have with him. Not even the siblings who have training are as level-headed as he is when he needs to be.
When Aether asks for something, it’s in his hand before the word is all the way out of his mouth. Dew’s warm fingers brushing his.
As most birth’s go–it’s an arduous process. The snow piles up outside. Isla’s contractions get closer and closer together. Hours pass. Dew gets his shit together. He follows Aether’s orders. Not nearly as squeamish as he pretends to be. Keeping a close eye on Isla’s process as Aether flits around for IV’s and blood pressure machines, and a thousand other things.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Isla says late in the game–minutes before Aether is going to tell her to start pushing. He’s exhausted his back hurts. Rae consoles her, pets her hair and tells her that of course she can. She shakes her head, vehement.
“No. I can’t. I can’t be a mom. What am I doing?”
Aether opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out, trying to find the right words despite his exhaustion. Dew places a warm hand on Isla’s knee and cuts him off.
“Sure you can,” Dew says, soft, sure. “You’re doing this. This is fucking brutal. Being a mom can’t be worse than this.”
And though Aether knows that isn’t true–Dew probably does too–it seems to take some of the edge off. Maybe just from the surprise of Dew actually butting in. But Isla looks at him, pain morphing her face, she laughs, bitter and relieved at the same time.
“Yeah. This does suck a lot.”
“See,” Dew squeezes her knee. “Just a few more minutes and this part will be over and then it’s the good part. You’ve got this. No backing out now.”
Aether doesn’t know where those words come from. Dew who hates all children–ghoul and human alike. Who a few hours ago was about to tuck tail and run–to be out of Aether’s sight line for the first time in weeks just because this was about to happen near him. Saying shit like this? Encouragement? Enthusiasm.
Determination settles over Isla’s face, she nods at Dew once. Sharp. And then turns her eyes to Aether. “I’m ready to get to the good part.”
It’s quick after that. And before long Aether is handing Isla a screaming baby. It’s another hour before he can take a small break. The baby cleaned and swaddled, snuggled up with it’s mother. Rae resting fitfully in the chair while Isla stares at her baby. Aether leaves them to it and walks out into the lobby to find the sun rising. Pink hues casting over the floor. Blizzard over. The world outside the windows snow bright and fresh. He finds Dew at the nurses station, book in hand again, nose firmly in it. Brow creased.
Aether kisses him right between where his horns would be and Dew looks up and over at him. Looking exhausted. Eyes fighting to stay open.
“Hey,” he rasps, saving his place in the book and setting it on the desk. Aether brushes an errand strand of hair behind Dew’s ear.
“Go back to your room. I’ll meet you there as soon as I switch with Omega.”
Dew shakes his head. He leans his head against Aether’s bicep. “I’m good. I’ll wait.”
“You’re going to have to detach from me at some point you know?”
“Yeah. But not yet,” Dew shrugs. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“Leech.”
“Mmhm,” Dew nods. Eyes fluttering as he leans into Aether’s body. They’re quiet for a moment, the quiet only broken by a ragged cough from a room down the hall.
“Thanks for staying–for helping,” Aether says softly. “I know that isn’t your thing but you really–”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“You going to tell me where all that sappy shit in there came from?” Aether teases, then sobers. “You were incredible, really.”
Dew tips his head and opens his eyes, looking up at Aether with adoration that threatens to knock the breath from his lungs. He shrugs. “I mean. Just kind of thought of it like tour. Get the hard part over with. Get to the good part.”
“This is the good part?” Aether cocks an eyebrow.
“You’re the good part.”
#comet writes#ficlet#dewdrop ghoul#aether ghoul#dewther#dewdrop/aether#aether/dew#aethdew#ghost fic#ghost fanfic#ghost fanfiction#ghost band fic#ghost band fanfic#ghost band fanfiction#fluff
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
Main Three + Craig with morbid/odd reader
“I want love to change my friends to enemies and tell me how it’s all my fault.”
Stan:
He lets you draw on him but instead of doodling you take a black marker and start to meticulously draw dotted lines and arrows like you’re a surgeon prepping him for cosmetic surgery.
While helping him with farm chores you go into detail about how you can compost and break down a corpse in soil, he just kinda nods along.
You give him tarot readings every week. He thought they were fake and just did it to entertain you until his week played out exactly like you said it would. When he realized he just froze up and went non verbal.
Stan- “Hey, do you have any spells to curse my dad?”
Met him when he was in his goth era.
The two of you were having a moment in the rain when you told him that he should’ve worn shoes with rubber soles in case he gets struck by lightning.
You started writing his eulogy when you were laying in bed together, bro was trying not to freak out. Just spam texted Kyle.
You’re date idea is taking him to an abandoned house.
You guys bonded over music. Now you help him write songs since you’re so used to writing poetry.
Reader- “You’re into music?”
Stan- “Yeah, I guess so.”
Reader- “Have you heard Carnival of the Animals, R. 125: Aquarium composed by Camille Saint-Saëns and performed by Philippe Entremont, Gaby Casadesus, and Yo-Yo Ma?”
Stan- “Can’t say I have.”
Kyle:
Has veiny arms so when the two of you are just chilling you’ll put your finger on one of the veins and start talking about what would happen if you severed it. He’s lowkey interested from a scientific standpoint.
You’ll straddle his hips and pull his lips back to look at his teeth, poking around in his mouth like a dentist. You’re inches apart.
Reader- “Wow, you have beautiful teeth.”
Kyle- “Thank you?”
He’s kinda fascinated by you but also repulsed by some of the things you do/say.
He came to your house and you were butchering your own meat, left right away.
You listen to The Cure together.
When you climb trees to look for birds and squirrels he’ll climb too to help you.
Will get mad annoyed after listening to you say incredibly out of pocket things while he’s trying to focus on something.
He’ll buy you little knickknacks that remind him of you.
Before he got to know you, he talked mad shit.
Sometimes gets super freaked out by your behaviour, you straight up give him the heebie-jeebies.
Reader- “So this is my collection of human teeth.”
Kyle- “All of those are yours, right?”
Reader- “Actually, none of them are mine.” 😁
Kyle- 😨
Kenny:
Sits through horror movies and weird foreign films with you. He didn’t like it at first but he came around and started sourcing out movies he’d think you like.
You took him to a Wicca ceremony and he had the time of his life.
You taught him how to make flower crowns and now he makes them all the time. He likes to give them to Karen.
When he sees something off-putting or creepy he will immediately take a picture and send it to you.
Reader- “Hey, it’s raining. Do you want to go look for earth worms and build a worm colosseum?”
Kenny- “Hell yeah.”
He likes to go for walks in the forest with you, you guys will look for bugs and pick them up or make them houses of leaves and twigs.
He’ll help you wash the skulls/bones you find.
Never really minded that you were weird, he approached you first because he thought you were hot.
He loves when you play with his hair and tie little braids into it.
You guys tried to recreate The Blair Witch Project but failed miserably when you actually got lost in the woods.
You’ll meet up at the graveyard and just sit in the grass while you talk about ghosts and ghouls. Sometimes you’ll walk around and stop at a specific grave and guess how they died.
Reader- “Would you rather be in Cannibal Holocaust or The Poughkeepsie Tapes?”
Kenny- “Erm, I gotta pick The Poughkeepsie Tapes.”
Craig:
Generally goes along with whatever you want to do.
Reader- “Can we go down to the riverbank to pickup fish heads and then eat out their eyes?”
Craig- “Yeah, sure.”
He’ll just watch you roll around in the mud or set little twig piles on fire, he won’t join in but he also won’t interfere.
You’ll talk to Stripe, not in the baby voice that people usually use to talk to animals but your tone will be dead serious like you’re talking to a grown adult.
The two of you will watch true crime documentaries together.
He’ll fuck up anyone who calls you weird or a freak.
When you’re out in public, you’ll point someone out and predict how they’re going to die.
There’s nothing you can do that’ll shock him, he’s unfazed by everything that you say.
Sometimes gets concerned with you around Stripe.
You’ll disappear for hours at a time and he’ll get worried, sending you a million texts then you’ll randomly show up at his door soaking wet or covered in dirt with no warning.
Craig- “Where have you been? You weren’t answering my texts.”
Reader- “I was meeting with a friend of mine who is alive.”
Craig- “Oh, that’s cool.”
Requests are open! I’m working through a couple right now. Thanks to the anon who requested this.
#kyle broflovski#kyle south park#south park#eric cartman#kenny mccormick#south park x reader#south park x y/n#stan marsh#craig tucker#sp craig#craig tucker x reader#stan marsh x reader#kenny mcormick x reader#kyle broflovski x reader#sp kyle#south park hcs#south park headcanons
118 notes
·
View notes
Text
October 4th
Rimming, Rain x GN!Reader
Masterlist
Words: 871
Warnings: Rimming; established relationship; fellatio; anal fingering; spit as lube; GN!Reader; semi-public; cum eating; cumswap (terrorising @da-rulah with this lmao);
Taglist: @sodoswitchimage
Author's Note: Hello again, everyone! I just want to pop in again and say that I'm still very much overwhelmed by all the support over the last few days! It genuinely means a lot that so many of you are reading my fics, let alone liking and reblogging them! I love hearing all the kind words you have, and can't wait for you to see what the coming days have in store! I want to apologise for how short this one is... turns out the ghouls were much more difficult to write for than I orginially anticipated.
Want to give a major shout out and thank you to @da-rulah for beta reading all of these, and even helping me on some days when I wasn't feeling the writing vibes!
Without further ado, let the debauchery commence!
🔞 MDNI 🔞
Rain was looking and smelling particularly delicious today, either that or you were just exceptionally horny. You couldn’t tell if there was much distinction, though. He was busy with band practice all day, Papa IV feeling particularly anxious about the upcoming tour which meant he was being harsh to the Ghouls and frustrated at each of their little mistakes. Though Rain made the least amount, he was definitely the most effected by Papa’s stress. It made you want to wrap him in bubble wrap but his intense concentration was too much for you to bear.
During their lunch break, when you knew Rain had finished, you waited for him behind the nearest unlocked broom cupboard and ambushed him when he was alone, dragging him into the tiny room and slamming the door shut behind you. At first, he was frightened, but when he saw it was you he was just confused. Any noises of protest, however, were silenced by your lips capturing his in a messy kiss.
“What has gotten into you?” He murmured in between kisses.
“Hopefully you in a minute.” You teased. “But let me get my fill of you, first.”
He groaned when your lips moved to his neck and your hand cupped his growing bulge. “I don’t have m-much time.”
“I’ll be quick, is this okay?”
“Fast, please!”
Immediately, you dropped to your knees and pulled at the button tying his jeans closed. You made short work of freeing his almost hard cock from its confines and immediately got to work, pulling it into your mouth and sucking on it. Your head bobbed up and down as you made sure to take all of him in your mouth and down your throat as much as possible.
“Oh, fuck!” Rain exclaimed, his hands flying to your hair. When you looked up at him through your lashes, you saw that his head was thrown back and his mask was partially off, lifted by the shelving unit Rain was pushed up against.
Your hands moved up to his waistband and pulled his trousers and pants down to have better access to the rest of his body. Rain felt this and panicked a little, but you’d removed him from your mouth with a pop and replaced it with your finger, getting it wet with spit and readying it to go where you wanted it to. Once again, you took Rain into your mouth, but this time you allowed your wet finger to run over his taint and up to his rim, rubbing at the entrance before sticking a finger inside.
“Holy shit!” His voice came out as mere more than a gasp, followed by an incredibly loud whimper. Rain wasn’t much of a talker when you pleasured him, but he was exceptionally noisy. So many gasps and moans falling from his lips. And when you pushed your finger inside him, he bit his lip and released a small scream.
Soon, his hips started bucking as he began chasing his high - your finger in his hole providing him with more pleasure than he could handle. But this wasn’t how you wanted him to cum.
You removed yourself from his nicely-lubed cock and pulled your finger out of his hole, making him whine at the loss. Then, you placed your hands on his hips and turned him around so his ass was now in your face. Then, with no warning, you dove in.
Your tongue licked from his taint all the way up to his rim and you chuckled when he jumped slightly at the feel of you. When your tongue had reached his hole, you began to lick over the nerves and alternate between licking and pushing your tongue inside. You noticed somewhere between all of this, Rain’s right hand was moving in a rhythmic pattern, and when you pulled away, you saw it was wrapped around his cock stroking himself. “No!” He started. “Please don’t stop. I’m s-so close. Sathanas, please more!”
You giggled and dove back in, gripping onto his thighs for support. Your own centre was very much alive with arousal, and you were desperate to touch yourself to his little whimpers. But his pleasure was your priority at the moment.
“I’m so close! Please! I’m gonna cum!”
You began to lick his hole faster, trying to match the pace of his hand’s movements. And sure enough, Rain came hard, his left hand gripping on tightly to the shelves and his cum spilling out onto them.
His pants and groans began to die down as as he remained stood in place, recovering from his orgasm. Though, he turned slightly and saw you crawling towards the shelves. He watched your finger run through the puddle of cum and lick it clean. “Fucking hell!” He said at the sight of you.
He bent down and gave you a deep kiss, tasting himself on your tongue and feeling his own cum get passed from you to him, both of you swallowing it down when you pulled away. “Your turn.” He told you.
You shook your head and stood up, helping him pull his jeans and pants back up. “You don’t have time.” You kissed him again. “Later, okay?”
Previous Day ⛧ Next Day
#mel writes#kinktober 2023#ghost kinktober#the band ghost#ghost#ghost bc#ghost band#ghost the band#ghost fanfic#ghost fanfiction#nameless ghoul#nameless ghouls#the nameless ghouls#nameless ghoul x reader#nameless ghoul x reader smut#rain#rain ghoul#rain ghost#rain x reader#rain ghoul smut#nameless ghoul smut
279 notes
·
View notes
Note
Father hyppp i am hungy for more ficlets (of any kind) 😞😞 literally obsessed with your writing style
stawp bro you'll make my raging daddy kink turn and go the other way... (I like it) speaking of which daddy kink is exactly what you get heh
820 words of daddy aether and transmasc baby boy dew comfort cockwarming. fluffy kinda smut? i think it is
Aether was doing… nothing, really, reading yet another book by his desk in the infirmary. It was empty, but there always had to be someone there in case of emergencies. He looked over at the annoyingly ticking clock and sighed. Thirteen minutes left of his shift.
The quintessence ghoul turned the page, then another and another, until he heard the door opening. For a split second he had thought it was Omega coming to switch him a few minutes early, but before he even lifted his eyes, Dewdrop’s scent hit his nose.
Anxiety flared in him, afraid that the reason for the fire ghoul’s trip to the hospital wing was injury on his person, but all that dissipated when Dewdrop sent him a crooked smile. There was something… off about him, but he was fine. Aether guessed he’d just come for a visit.
“Hey, firefly,” he greeted him, putting the book down. “What brings you here?”
Dewdrop shrugged, coming closer with a slight slump to his posture.
“What’s wrong?” He didn’t get a reply, only the fire ghoul falling into his arms the moment he was close enough. He hid his face in the other’s chest, hands coming up to cling to his biceps. “Dewdrop, are you alright, baby?”
A whine left him at that and Aether noticed a certain switch in his scent. He was nearly sure what it was but– “Look at me, love.” With help from one of the quintessence ghoul’s hands, Dewdrop lifted his head and– there it was. His eyes all glassy and his pupils blown.
“Oh, baby,” Aether cooed. “Need me to take care of you, yeah?”
Dewdrop nodded.
The quintessence ghoul looked over at the clock again. Two minutes left. He supposed Omega wouldn’t mind if he cut off a minute off of his shift… He hummed in thought before hooking his arms under the small ghoul’s thighs and picking him up. Dewdrop immediately shoved his face into his neck and kicked up a small purr, clinging to Aether for dear life.
Not minding being seen in the corridors, Aether walked out of the infirmary, whispering softly into his mate’s ear. He didn’t know what brought this particular need of his up this time, but he didn’t care, not now. He’d find out later and possibly murder someone if someone was at fault.
“I’ve got you, baby boy. Daddy will take care of you.”
Aether had no idea which one of them enjoyed that particular dynamic more. He’d guess Dewdrop, but the way heat flooded him every single time that word would fall from the fire ghoul’s lips was implying otherwise. It was safe to say they were both incredibly down bad. Sometimes it was just for sex, sometimes it was a way of sharing comfort, sometimes both. Whatever Dewdrop would need.
Now that they finally got to their bedroom, Aether would find out what it was that his mate needed that day. He crawled onto the bed, still holding him, and sat by the headboard. “What is it, baby? What do you need from me?”
“Want your dick, daddy, but– but just– not...” Dewdrop muttered, but seemingly couldn’t spit out what it was that he wanted. Good thing Aether knew him better than he did himself.
“Want to warm me for a bit?” he asked quietly, as if someone would hear. He got a slight nod in response and rewarded Dewdrop with a kiss to the bridge of his nose. They shuffled around to take off their pants, just enough for Aether to take his half-hard cock out and for Dewdrop’s cunt to be able to take it.
The quintessence ghoul slipped his fingers into his mate, finding him slippery already, and stretched him out for just a minute, not wanting to wait any longer for Dewdrop’s sake, but also not wanting to hurt him. When he started to whine quietly against his neck, Aether took his fingers out and lifted the small ghoul up, lining his cock up with his hole.
With a huff Dewdrop sank down onto it, Aether’s dick fitting inside him perfectly, like they were made for each other. The quintessence ghoul said as much, swallowing the noise Dewdrop made at that as he kissed him deeply. “There we go, baby boy. You’ve got me, daddy’s all yours.”
The fire ghoul hummed appreciatively before nuzzling himself back against Aether’s chest, face tucked safely under his chin, nose in his neck. He wrapped his arms all around him and brought a soft blanket to truly swaddle Dewdrop. A rumbly purr sounded from him and Aether kicked up his own, raspy and loud.
Whether Dewdrop would fall asleep like that, decided he’d want to be fucked for real, or whatever else, Aether was content. He had his mate all soft and warm and close to him, and he didn’t need much else. Whatever he’d want, he’d be granted, but for now…
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
Too Sweet
Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader
Word Count: 5,138
Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie
Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table.
Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!!
Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once……
(And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)
You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for.
Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.
Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.
You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead.
One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you.
Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion.
Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.
“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?
You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you.
“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”
The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying.
You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?
The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue.
“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.
At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”
Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?
“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.
The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”
You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything.
The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this.
Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.
“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”
“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.”
You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could.
The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”
“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”
A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.
Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it.
The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.”
At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face.
Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves.
A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”
His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again.
“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face.
The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you.
“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”
His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately.
You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.
Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again.
Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.
You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.
“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”
You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.
“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.
The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.
“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.”
His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault.
The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”
So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin.
“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable.
“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants.
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”
The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen.
In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips.
The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level.
You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–
A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses.
“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you.
“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?
Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing.
“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you.
“Sweetheart, you really think I care?”
He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.
The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”
Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him.
“Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”
Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper.
It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt.
“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace.
You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin.
You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him.
The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”
The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.
Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.
“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”
His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you.
The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”
Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out.
#dark!fic#shadow writes#fallout show#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul smut#cooper howard smut#dark fic#dead dove do not eat#pls read the warnings#minors dni#also i am very scared to post this here...#so if it gets taken down at some point that's why#you can find it on ao3 tho
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE GHOUL: WHY HE'S HOT - (A SCIENCE!)
࣪⊹°˖✧ Welcome to a Powerpoint Presentation by Some Ghoul-Loving Freak ✧˖° ⊹
Why is The Ghoul hot? I think many of us who find ourselves swooning over this necrotic, murdering cowboy have been asking ourselves that very question lately. Is there something wrong with me? Do I need therapy? Will my friends ever look at me the same way again? Well my fellow ghoul lovers, you are not alone. And I am here to explain to you the exact reasons why this gun-slingin’, ass bitin’ baked potato with teeth has captured the hearts of so many... with science! (sort of) 🤠
------(Spoiler warning... lots and lots of spoilers below the cut!)------
1. Walton Goggins… just Walton Goggins
I think we can all agree that the man behind the makeup and prosthetics is a large reason as to what makes The Ghoul so attractive. Walton himself is a very nice looking fellow, and he absolutely oozes charisma, both on the set and off. And for some reason decided to amp that up to 100 while playing The Ghoul. He managed to make Ghouly Boi likable and endearing, even when he's doing murdery things. So yeah, the dude's mad talented.
"Strong enough to keep out the rads... and the reds." - Cooper Howard shooting a Vault-Tec commercial in episode 6.
2. The makeup artists knew what they were doing
Attempting to make The Ghoul “kind of hot” was absolutely intentional. There was serious discussion behind the scenes about how they could make The Ghoul attractive to viewers, despite him being… well… a ghoul. (So yeah, it is 100% the creators fault. They did this to us on purpose!) When creating The Ghoul’s design, they deliberately ghoulified features that weren’t that important for attraction and left the rest alone, or made them more accentuated.
For example, when it comes to the attractiveness of a male, specifically in the face, most people focus in on the eyes, lips, jaw and cheekbones, which they emphasized and brought out with the makeup. Things like the nose, hair and even skin can be safely tinkered with, and even with those they went pretty easy on. Many ghouls have cloudy or discolored eyes, but not Ghouly. (in fact, bro’s still got his eyelashes, lol) They also kept his ears, despite most ghouls’ tending to fall off just like the nose. His teeth are still intact, despite being rather discolored. And they even made his skin relatively smooth compared to most ghouls. (I’m willing to bet he gets made fun of in a lot of ghoul circles for being such a baby smooth smoothskin)
If the creators had made him any uglier - messed up his eyes, took away the ears, rotted out some teeth, or made his skin a lot more torn up - we might not be here right now. But the character designers and makeup artists were very intentional in his appearance, making him look rotten enough to be recognized as a ghoul, but not so nasty he’d be hard to look at. By keeping and even accentuating Walton’s eyes and bone structure, while giving the ghoulishness to other features, they managed to balance out the ‘yuk’ with the ‘hmmm… wait what?’ just right.
"Sometimes a fella's gotta eat a fella." - The Ghoul to Lucy while munchin' on Roger in episode 4.
3. His charisma, charm and sense of humor
Look, Ghouly is charming as FUCK, okay? There’s no getting around it, so let’s just get that out of the way right now. He exudes confidence and beats you in the face with his overwhelming swag. He also has these… looks. Which I can only describe as “sexy” looks. I’m not really sure how to explain, but if you’re reading this, you probably know what I mean.
As mentioned before, a lot of this is just Goggins being Goggins, but the writing is brilliant as well. He definitely embodies that sort of hot badboy/outlaw/pirate sort of archetype that is often found in romantic settings/stories, so yeah. And also, who doesn't love a man with a great sense of humor? He's got all the best lines in the show and is just a joy to watch, even if it's just for the funny. Really, whoever wrote for Ghouly was a comedic genius, a gentleman, and a scholar. They should be commended.
"I'd offer you one a' these cherreh tomaydas, but you got a hole on yo neck." - The Ghoul to some guy he just shot in episode 2.
4. He loves dogs
Okay, so yes, we all know he stabs Dogmeat in order to keep her from ripping his face off, which ALMOST ruined his character for me, but then he brought her back with a Stimpak and all was forgiven. I’m willing to bet he probably also tried to stab her in a place that he knew wouldn’t be fatal, and also his choice to stab instead when he could have easily just shot her, letting her get right up on top of him before doing anything to defend himself, shows his hesitation in harming a dog.
It’s clear that Coop has a lot of affection for dogs, especially when we see the flashbacks of him with his OG dog and how pissed he gets about not being able to bring him into the vaults. The way he handles Dogmeat with such loving care, and smiles with genuine joy as she leaps up off the table was one of the first moments to show that, underneath that hardened exterior, he’s still got a soft, squishy, gooey center (other than the rotting flesh, I mean).
"Who decided that there were no dogs in the vault?" - Cooper to his wife upon finding out their dog Roosevelt wouldn't be able to go to the vault with them in episode 6.
5. He's a genuinely good person, deep down...
Not only does he save the dog (twice), but Ghouly also did other things that were surprisingly unselfish and not awful. Does that make up for the bad shit he did? Well, no. But again, it shows that he’s at least not ALL bad, and that the man he use to be is still in there somewhere.
For example, he could have easily ratted out Lucy for busting up the Super Duper Mart, but he took the heat for it instead. And despite the fact that he shoots (and eats) Roger, he does seem to have genuine empathy for the turning ghoul. So his choice to kill him wasn’t completely selfish, but also an act of mercy. Roger was essentially dying anyway, and Cooper saved him from an arguably worse fate than death. He even took a moment to remind Roger of a happy memory before doing the deed, a scenario reminiscent of the book Of Mice And Men, when George shoots Lenny at the end after reminding him of their dream in order to save him from a worse fate as well.
And let's not forget that before the bombs dropped, Cooper struggled to even fake kill a man on screen while shooting a film, not wanting his character to go down such a dark path. This shows that he was once a man who lived by a code of morals and principals, so much so that just the idea of stepping outside of that made him deeply uncomfortable, even if it was just pretend. This is why Cooper gives Lucy the line, "Oh, I'm you, sweetie. Just... give it a little time." Because he sees himself in her, or rather the person he used to be.
One of the things I love about how Cooper’s story is told is that we get to see his present and past self right away, juxtaposed against each other. His backstory isn’t revealed as a surprise later on. Instead we really get to see up front the complexities of his character that make him so compelling. He’s not just some heartless killer. He’s like this because he’s been through so much pain, and pushed to the point where he was forced to become something he's not in order to survive and carry on. Because of this, it makes The Ghoul a lot more likable and relatable than he would have been otherwise. It also kinda lets you put yourself in his shoes and ask yourself what you would do if you found yourself in his position. Actually brilliant writing, in my opinion.
"Do I have to kill him?" - Cooper to the director of the film he's shooting in Episode 3.
6. That tragic backstory
This is where the character of Cooper Howard really got me in the feels. Not only does Ghouly love dogs, but he loves his family too. And it’s revealed at the end of the season that even after 200+ years, they are still on his mind. He’s spent over two centuries looking for them, and putting himself through absolute hell, because he loves them that much. And not just his daughter, but his wife as well. Even though they had gotten divorced, presumably because of what he learned at the end of the season. Maybe he’s even hoping his old dog is still alive somehow, although that’s admittedly very unlikely...
So... you know what that means... Although he’s done horrible things, Cooper is a man driven by LOVE. He's stayed alive because of LOVE. He does these bad things because of LOVE. He’s become a monster IN THE NAME OF LOVE!!! It’s all about the power of LOVE, you guys. Call it cliché, but if that isn’t romantic as hell, I donno what the fuck is, ladies.
"Now, I've waited over 200 years to ask somebody one question... Where's my fuckin' family?" - Cooper to Hank in Episode 8
In Conclusion
So yes. He's ugly. He's mean. He's murdery. Kinda toxic AF. But that doesn't mean he can't also be a sexy motherfucker as well. 👍
He's a fictional character. It's a fantasy, and fantasies are allowed to be kinda fucked up. 😃 Hey, don't ask me why humans human the way we do. I didn't make us, so I don't know. It's all in good fun though, so let's just enjoy ourselves and try not to think too hard about it, eh? 😆 (So says the person who literally just wrote a fucking essay on the subject)
Alright, well... I guess that's about it. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk. I hope this helped anyone who was feeling their sanity slip a little bit (like me 😃). Refreshments and resources are at the back. Exits to your left. Have a lovely evening and please excuse me while I drop my mic and go find myself a fuckin' gin martini. Team Ghoul Forever, baby! 🤠
#i did the meme fr y'all#i have no fucking life lol#ghoul lovers unite#this has been an essay about stupid shit#but thanks for reading#hope it helps xD#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout prime#fallout amazon#fallout series#fallout tv series#meta#just had to get this out of my system bc i overanalyze everything lol#also bc people who think he's just a one dimensional baddie they don't get it#ok now i can go to bed k thx byeeee#my posts#ghouly-boi
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay. I've been playing Tokyo Debunker today, since the release happened to catch me on a day when all I'd planned to do was write fanfiction. I just finished reading the game story prologue (it was longer than expected!), so here's a review type post. If you're reading this post not having seen a single thing about this game: it's a story-based joseimuke gacha mobile game that just released globally today. It's about a girl who suddenly finds herself attending a magic school and mingling with elite, superhuman students known as ghouls. If you look in the tumblr tag for the game you'll see what appears to be a completely different game from 2019 or so: they retooled it completely midway through development, changing just about everything about it due to "escalating competition within the gaming industry."
I'll talk about how this looks like a blatant twst clone at the end.
Starting with the positive: The story is charming. I enjoyed it thoroughly the entire time and am excited to read more. The mix between visual novel segments and motion comics was really nice--it broke things up and added a lot of oomph to the action or atmospheric scenes that visual novels generally lack. I like the art in the comic parts a lot. the live2d in the visual novel parts is... passable. Tone-wise, I think the story was a little bit all over the place and would like to see more of the horror that it opened on, but I didn't mind the comedic direction it went in either. The translation is completely seamless. The characters so far all have unique voices and are just super fun and cute. Of the ones who've had larger roles in the story so far, there's not a single one I dislike. It's all fully voiced in Japanese and the acting is solid. (I don't recognize any voices, and can't seem to find any seiyuu credits, so it seems they're not big names, but they deliver nonetheless.) Kaito in particular I found I was laughing at his lines a ton, both the voicing and the writing.
He's looking for a girlfriend btw. Spreading the word.
The problem is like. The gameplay is the worst dark-pattern microtransaction-riddled bullshit I've ever seen. Hundred passive timers going at all times. Fifty different item-currencies. Trying to get you to spend absurd amounts of real world money at every turn. There's like five different indicators that take you to various real-money shop items that I don't know how to dismiss the indicator, I guess you just have to spend money, wtaf. Bajillion different interlocking systems mean you have zero sense of relative value of all the different item-currencies. I did over the course of the day get enough diamonds for one ten-pull, which I haven't used yet. Buying enough diamonds for a ten-pull costs a bit under $60 (presumably USD, but there's a chance the interface is automatically making that CAD for me--not gonna spend the money to check lmfao), with an SSR rate of 1%. BULLSHIIIIIT.
There's like a goddamn thousand-word essay explaining the dozen different types of character upgrades and equippables and equippables for the equippables!! Bad! Bad game design! That's just overcomplicating bullshit to trick people into thinking they're doing something other than clicking button to make number go up! That is not gameplay!
In terms of the actual gameplay, there is none. The battle system is full auto. There might be teambuilding, but from what I've seen so far, most of that consists of hoping you pull good cards from gacha and then clicking button to make number go up. There's occasional rhythm segments but there's no original music, it's just remixes of public domain classical music lmao. I'd describe the rhythm gameplay as "at least more engaging than twisted wonderland's," which is not a high bar
At least there's a cat in the rhythm bit.
And like, ok, I gotta remark on how derivative it is. Like I mentioned in my post earlier, this game is unabashedly aping twisted wonderland's setting and aesthetic. (That said, most of the stuff it steals from twst is magic school stuff that twst also basically stole from Harry Potter, so...?) However, it isn't exactly like twst: in this one, the characters say fuck a lot and bleed all over the place and do violence. Basically, the tone is a fair bit more adult than twst's kid-friendly vibe. (Not, like, adult adult, and I probably wouldn't even call it dark--it's still rated Teen lol. Just more adult than twst.)
Rather than just being students at magic school, the ghouls also go out into the mundane world to go on missions where they fight and investigate monsters and cryptids. Honestly, the magic school setting feels pretty tacked-on. The things that are enjoyable about this would've been just as enjoyable in about any other setting--you can tell this whole aspect was a late trend-chasing addition, lmao. So, yeah, it's blatantly copying twst to try to steal some players, but... Eh, I found myself not caring that much. Someone more (or less) into twst than me may find it grating.
Character-wise, eh, sure, yeah, they're a bit derivative in that aspect too, but it's a joseimuke game, the characters are always derivative. Thus far the writing & execution has been solid enough that I didn't care if they were tropey. If I were to compare it to something else, I'd say the relationship between the protagonist and the ghouls feels more like that of the sage and wizards in mahoyaku than anything from twst. There's some mystery in exactly what "ghouls" are and their place in this world that has me intrigued and wanting to know more about this setting and how each of the characters feels about it. I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up for stories that put big ideas on the table and then being disappointed when they don't follow through in a way that lives up to my expectations, though.
So, my final verdict: I kind of just hope someone uploads all the story segments right onto youtube so nobody has to deal with the dogshit predatory game to get the genuinely decent story lol. Give it a play just for the story if you have faith in your ability to resist dark patterns. Avoid at all costs if you know you're vulnerable to gacha, microtransactions, or timesinks.
#suchobabbles#Tokyo Debunker#it's a global simultaneous release so I'm curious to see how it ends up doing in Japan#it's gonna be competing directly with stellarium of the fragile star which releases in a few days lmao. and is about a magic alchemy school#looks like the two games twt accounts have a similar number of followers#and then theyre competing with bremai releasing in may...#also adding this at the very end since i cant confirm anything:#but i found out abt this game bc it was rt'd by the former localization director/translator of A3en#i dont know if she worked on it or maybe her friend or maybe shes just hype! who knows! but i think her word (or rt) is worth something
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
COPIA'S SEWER RAT RECOMMENDATIONS PT.2
Second part of this recommendations thingy! This time, I tried to expand the recommendations to other areas and platforms. Please go check everyone out! They deserve the best!
previous part | my masterpost
📝WRITING
As always, check the tags and if you are a minor do not interact with +18 fics. All these writers are amazing and deserve so much more recognition, please go read their stuff and follow them!
@ghulehunknown follow also on Ao3 please go read Caught by Papa, Punished by Papa, Cardi Confessions and everything she has written because it is so fucking hot damn!!!!
@dewymorningstar I leave you with their masterlist, please go read their scenarios with the ghouls, they are absolutely adorable.
@youwouldntlietopapa Ao3 CannedBread: Fiore ???!!!! PEEPAW PEEMO WE LOVE YOU!! And all the Secondo ones... oof!! (My Secondo) go read them all pls.
@fishwithtitz I also leave you with their masterlist and Ao3, but please go read The Five Times I Hooked Up with Mary Goore (and the One Time I Couldn't) because I WANT TO EAT THAT FIC like *nom nom* it is so good.
@angellayercake Ao3 Angellayercake GO READ Banchetto, When True Love's Kiss AND The Diary of Cardinal Terzo I ASSURE YOU THEY ARE SOME OF THE BEST THINGS YOU ARE GOING TO READ. (Especially if you love Terzo).
(needed break so Tumblr doesn't freak out on me)
@m0rbidmacabre I leave your with their masterlist BUT PLEASE GO READ THEIR KINKTOBER STUFF and ongoing series, heck, read it all, it is all so good! Check her out!
@themratts I followed them for their art until I realised they had an Ao3???? And I instantly started reading and I fell hard for their OC Alena *gently holds*. Please go read Dear Red Biretta and the rest of the fics for their oc, it is absolutely fueling my days.
@portaltothevoid YOU ARE LOOSING ME? AMAZING FIC THAT YOU SHOULD BE READING?? GO!!!
@deetz-ghuleh is a mastermind???? No Lies is one of my fav fics ever? Secondo yes please? and Reverence??????? *screams so hard she goes to the moon*
@sweatandwoe I found them on Ao3 first and they have so many amazing spicy fics, my personal favs: Blasphemy, Life Eternal and Forever Yours.
@mastercopia I needed to add her because That Little Coffee Shop was the first Ghost fic I ever read and I remember it with such love... But please, go read anything of hers, she is so skilled and talented, you won't be disappointed.
Other platforms (please if these people have a Tumblr or any other social media, please, let me know.)
@/CardenalPlushia on Ao3 and x, lovely ghestie, so creative, go read her Who's Your Daddy? oneshot, please, red-haired freckled CC has my fucking heart.
@/casstayinmyass I found them on Ao3 as well, and there is a user on Tumblr with that name, I am not sure if it is the same because they don't have their Ao3 linked or anything (if anyone knows please let me know and I will edit this). I was recommended one of their fics a while back and I wanted to reread it, I still love it lol: When In Rome (but they have SO MANY GHOST FICS it is insane).
@/SoleraLove on Ao3 also has a fic I wanted to reread: Since Eden in need of hurt/comfort? Go read it asap.
@/Keggy_Chaos on Ao3, if you want a lengthy Ghost fic, go read Stay and Burn, you'll love it.
@/luciferscowgirl on x and Wattpad, another dear ghestie that has amazing Copia nsfw fics, go check her out!
🎨ART
I am in love with all these beautiful artists, please go follow them all and support them with likes and reblogs, they all deserve it!)
@sillyandquiteawkward
@kiselwp
@kamonart (I LOVE THEIR ART SO MUCH OMG THE LIGHT? SHADES? THE FACES??? MMMMMMMMM LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE)
@tasty-ribz
@starbats13
@bazlk
@here-under-blasphemy
@ryuzatodraws-backup
@caturrday
@lorocomonkey
@vannpz
@kai-andrew-art
@lemonemlyn
@spengsart
@cogslys
@ghestie-nun
@brihemoth
@swedish-meatballs
@caelo-jpg
@themratts (again because I love their OC art so very much)
@samdunn aka the amazingly talented artist behind so many official ghirts designs (insane stuff, so talented!!!)
lastly, a mention to my dearest ghestie @/lilchopin1 on x because I adore her and her art is so cute and nice and I love her so very much, go check her out! (AND HER COVERS ARE ALSO BEAUTIFUL PLEASE I ADORE HER)
* COMICS
@panthermouthh please go read The Descent, it is incredible!
@quaildoodle LAST TIME I FORGOR TO MENTION HER COMIC IN WHICH SHE INTRODUCED HER OC SISTER KATYA (she can step on me pls I beg)
👻OTHERS
* GIFs - Do you want to see your favourite Papas/ghouls moving, shaking their ass and being horny on main? Follow these lovely creators who us such beautiful gifts (pun intended)
@xpapaemeritus
@copias-juicebox
@inghostveritas
@cardi-c
@conjuring-ghouls
@ghoulymadge
* MORE RECOMMENDATIONS
@ghuleh-recs you want more fics to read? Go follow! GO GO GO GO GO GO!!!
@sergeantangel EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS!! A LOT OF THEM ACTUALLY! GO FOLLOW!
@resin-popia - an amazing project of our dear cardi, the dedication that goes into it is insane, be sure to follow because it is insane and gorgeous!
@/conclaviconterzo or CnClaviCnTerzo; another of my dear x ghesties she posts there and on tiktok and she is SO FUNNY, please check her out for unhinged Ghost content!
THAT'S IT FOR NOW, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU KNOW OF MORE CREATORS THAT DESERVE MORE RECOGNITION OR IF YOU WOULD LIKE FOR ME TO CHECK YOUR STUFF FOR FUTURE ENTRIES! (I am planning on expanding this to more areas such as cosplayers and interesting profiles on other platforms, so please let me know your fav Ghost related content creators!)
#gonst#the band ghost#ghost#the band ghost bc#ghost bc band#recommendation post#sewer rat recommends#amazing creators#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#ghost bc#ghost band#papa emeritus iii#papa terzo#papa secondo
140 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jack Jeanne Complete Collection - Interview with Ishida Sui and Towada Shin Translation
This interview is from the Jack Jeanne Complete Collection art book, it’s available on CDJapan and Amazon jp. You can also purchase a digital only version on bookwalker jp. I encourage anyone reading to purchase the game (if you haven't already) or the art book itself to support Ishida and Towada directly. 💕
This is a VERY long interview so I apologise for any typos or errors I may have missed.
~ ~ ~
An interview with Ishida Sui and Towada Shin, who both worked on writing the story of Jack Jeanne. In this interview they reveal what went on behind the scenes during production, rejected story ideas and much more. This interview was conducted remotely on the 9th of February 2021.
Interviewer: Yui Kashima
How did Ishida Sui end up making an otome game?
—How did the production of Jack Jeanne begin?
Ishida: It was sometime around Autumn 2015 I think… On an old personal site that I used to run, I received an email from the company Broccoli to an email address that I no longer use. It was a commission request for character designs.
—In 2015 Tokyo Ghoul was still being serialised wasn’t it?
Ishida: Yes. Usually job offers like that go through Shueisha first, so I contacted my editor asking why this one was sent to my private email… At the time, in addition to working on Tokyo Ghoul, I was also drawing illustrations for a tear-off calendar and very busy with various other things, so when my editorial department heard about the offer they seemed very shocked like "What!?".
—Why did you decide to accept the offer even though you were so busy?
Ishida: I would often receive offers asking for me to draw manga or illustrations, so I figured that this one was a similar case. However, some words in the email caught my eye. Like ‘Gender Swap’, ‘Takarazuka’ and ‘All Boys Opera'. When I saw these concept ideas, a dream began to swell in my chest and I felt like giving it a try.
I think if it had just been a normal character design job, I would have turned it down. However just from reading the short brief in the email my interest was piqued. While in discussions with the Young Jump editorial department, I also casually mentioned the kind of offer I’d received to Towada-san.
Towada: Yeah, Ishida-san asked me for some advice. I was also drawn to the ‘Gender Swap’ and ‘Opera’ concepts. I could easily visualise the setting of the story. Additionally, it seemed like it would be a story that included many different themes such as gender. When I thought about that, I figured that Ishida-san would be a good fit, since I knew he would be able to draw something that went beyond all genders.
Ishida: I’ve been drawing androgynous characters for a long time, so Towada-san and I talked and wondered if that's what they must be looking for. After that, I created my own proposal and submitted it to Broccoli.
—You created your own proposal, Ishida-san?
Ishida: When I looked at the original proposal that Broccoli had sent me, a lot of it differed from my personal tastes. It was a very upbeat and dazzling story. It would’ve been hard for me to match my art style to that, so in my proposal I noted things like ‘if it were me, I’d do something more like this’. I was interested in this unpolished gem of a story, so I thought it would be a waste to turn it down altogether. I wanted to at least try throwing my own ideas into the ring, so I spent a week creating the six main characters and sent them in.
—At that time, I heard that the game wasn’t titled ‘Jack Jeanne’ yet, but was instead called ‘Jiemarie’.
Ishida: At first, I wanted to try creating a word that doesn’t exist. So using French as a base, I came up with ‘Jiemarie’ as the game's provisional title. But then a month later when I was reconsidering the title, I looked at it again and thought, damn this looks lame. So I hurriedly called Towada-san on Skype and we entered a discussion that lasted about ten hours over what the title should be.
That’s when we decided on ‘Jack Jeanne’. The male roles take the name from the knight, or the ‘Jack’ in a deck of playing cards. And the female roles ‘Jeanne’ take from the word parisienne and Jeanne d’Arc. When these two terms are put together, I feel like you can comprehend what the game is about with a bit of nuance. Plus you can shorten it to ‘JJ’… That’s also the title of a magazine though (lol).
—Taking on another job whilst your manga was being serialised sounds like it would be tough on you both physically and mentally.
Ishida: I think I must’ve been a bit unwell (lol). My body was fine, but being able to work on something other than a serialised manga was a lot easier on me mentally. I may have seen it as a way to escape, so I didn’t feel that working on two projects at the same time was difficult. When it comes to game development, I can only create what I’m capable of, and there was no set release date yet. Of course, I would work on and submit things whenever I could though.
—What kind of things would you submit?
Ishida: I would sketch character designs, discuss and create story elements with Towada-san and try to put Univeils history into chronological order. Then I would share the progress with Broccoli and have meetings and such with them. In the beginning, rather than having to draw anything yet, it was mostly just brainstorming and planning. That’s why I think I was able to do it all concurrently with the serialisation of my manga.
~ ~ ~
How Ishida Sui and Towada Shin know each other
—Do you chat with Towada-san often?
Ishida: Well yeah, she is my older sister after all.
Towada: We talk a lot. When we both have the time we chat over Skype.
Ishida: Once we start the conversation can last up to five or six hours. We mostly talk about things that happened throughout our day. When I’m talking to someone I often bring up something that’s happened to me and ask their opinion on it. She became someone that I could chat with whilst working on my manga. Ever since my student days we’d talk until early morning, I usually told her about storyboards I’d drawn.
—At the Ishida Sui exhibition it was revealed that Towada-san had even given you advice on some of your earliest works.
Ishida: Yeah that’s right. It was a work I’d prepared for a 'bring your own work along' induction course in Tokyo that I attended back in my student days. It was a manga about two characters who eventually became the prototypes for Tsukiyama and Hori Chie in Tokyo Ghoul. It was only about 30 pages long, however when I showed it to Towada-san the day before the presentation, she told me that she thought my linework was too thin.
Towada: Yeah, the overall linework of the manga was thinly drawn. Once I told Ishida-san this thought, he began tracing over his linework and making it thicker. And then when he looked at it again, he said “Yep, I need to redraw the whole thing”.
The linework being too thin was only my personal opinion and the presentation was in Tokyo the next day, so in horror, I began hastily telling him, “You won’t make it in time, stop, stop!”
Ishida: All I could think about was that the lines really were too thin, so I wanted to redraw it. All of the screentones had already been affixed to the panels, but I didn’t want to bring something along with me whilst knowing it wasn’t the best that it could be.
Towada: Ishida-san handled the linework and I helped with redoing the screentones. We worked throughout the night and finished redrawing the whole manuscript. Once it was done, it wasn’t even comparable to the previous version, the lines were powerful and the characters' expressions conveyed a lot. I was seriously worried though (lol), I didn’t know if we’d complete it in time.
Ishida: I couldn’t think about anything other than the lines being too thin, so I wasn’t even worried about whether I had enough time or not.
Towada: I fell asleep halfway through, but you continued and boarded that Tokyo bound flight without having slept a wink, didn’t you?
Ishida: Yeah. I let Towada-san sleep and continued applying the screentones myself right up until the very last minute. I was still applying them whilst on the plane and also after my arrival in Tokyo. I used screentone number 10 a lot, so I remember the scenery around me gradually began to look grainy like the screentone. It felt as though I was hallucinating.
—Sounds like it was a tough manuscript to complete. Towada-san was also the author for the Tokyo Ghoul novels, has your relationship always been one akin to work partners?
Ishida: When it was decided that Tokyo Ghoul would be getting a novelisation, I was given other authors' works to look at. However, none of their styles really clicked with me, and they didn’t seem right for the series. I knew that Towada-san wrote, so I tried reaching out to her.
Although back in the days of Tokyo Ghoul’s serialisation, Towada-san and I didn’t talk as much as we do now. If I had any concerns I would just try and sort them out by myself. We’d always gotten along as brother and sister, however we didn’t really start to have a ‘work partners’ kind of relationship until we started working on Jack Jeanne together.
Towada: That’s true. Back then, we only occasionally conversed regarding the novelisation of Tokyo Ghoul. Before :re we only spoke once every few months over Skype. As Ishida-san said, it wasn’t until I started working on Jack Jeanne that we really started properly talking to one another.
—How often would you contact each other?
Towada: Depending on what stage we were at, we would bounce ideas off each other once every three or so days. Ishida-san would make a request like “I’d be happy if this part of the script was done within the next two weeks.” And then I’d present what I’d written and we’d discuss it and then I’d return to writing again. This process was repeated until Jack Jeanne reached its completion.
—Was Ishida-san the one that reached out to Towada-san to write the script of Jack Janne?
Towada: He didn’t ask me specifically to write the script, early in development he’d ask me to help with some research like “I’d like you to look up some information on this, could you help me?”. I’ve always liked ikusei games and within that genre I also enjoy romance and otome games. So I think that’s why it was easy for Ishida-san to consult me about it. We’ve had a common interest in games ever since we were kids.
Ishida: Back then I played games like ‘Pinnochia no Miru Yume’ and ‘Angelique’. I wanted to try and conquer Marcel in Angelique but it was one difficult game, so it was a tough task. Before I could even raise any flags with him, the training aspect of the game was so hard that no matter how many times I played I never got any good at it.
Towada: I’m the type that loves playing games, so after talking with Ishida-san, I went on to play every popular otome game that had been released around 2015, as well as every Broccoli published otoge. I completed every single character route in those games. I began analysing otome game trends and Broccoli’s brand identity and relayed my findings to Ishida-san. After that, I went along with the Jack Jeanne production team and Makasano Chuuji-san from Shueisha, who was the scriptwriter of the Tokyo Ghoul anime. We all visited the city of Takarazuka for research.
Ishida: I was also supposed to be there for the Takarazuka trip but since I had my manga to worry about, I had Towada-san go and take in the atmosphere in my place.
Towada: I did have to gather material but I think I visited Takarazuka a total of five or six times. From morning I would watch the Takarazuka theatre from afar and simply watch the guests move about, soaking in the atmosphere of the city.
Along with the Takarazuka plays, I also watched student plays, in total I probably went and watched one hundred shows. Theatre shows that are performed by professionals are fully realised and flawless. So getting to see the contrast to student plays, where they progress and improve until the show is complete was a very helpful reference.
I’ve always enjoyed watching plays, so everything I had to research overlapped with my own hobbies. I still shared my own input with Ishida-san though.
Ishida: I’d never formally been asked to write a script before… I felt like a fraud (lol). I think it’s because I’m not very good at being considerate of other people. I don’t think I’d be able to work with anyone other than Towada-san on something.
—Why is that?
Ishida: Well, for one I don’t want to talk to anyone for long periods of time (lol). Because Towada-san understands what aspects of a story are important to me, she’s also able to comprehend what I mean when I talk in abstract concepts. We could save time by not needing to have any pointless discussions.
Towada: Back then Ishida-san was still very busy publishing his manga, so bringing in all sorts of new people to work on the project probably would’ve put quite the burden on him. That’s why I wanted to help him out in some way.
After researching all sorts of things, I ended up participating in a production meeting for Jack Jeanne, but I was not expecting that I myself would end up being in charge of writing the script. Rather, I was more just looking forward to getting to play a game made by Ishida-san. As things progressed though, I was asked to try plotting things out, or to write part of the script to be used temporarily. Eventually I came to think, why don’t I just write the scenario myself?
I’d never written the script for a game before though, so that’s what had been holding me back. Unlike novels, it’s commonplace to not have to write descriptively. Novels are made up of dialogue and descriptions, like describing the setting and characters' expressions or emotions. So I had to spend a lot of time working out how to write to properly convey a story through dialogue alone.
When I first started getting the hang of it, I tried writing a script that still included descriptions but I quickly stopped. Jack Jeanne is about theatre, so I figured that it would be easier to convey the presence and narrative of the story through conversation. I usually write novels, so I was uncertain, but since Jack Jeanne has sprites of the characters on screen, I thought that I could do it. I suppose it’s closer to writing for a manga rather than a novel.
~ ~ ~
The rejected character routes
—Before Tokyo Ghoul was completed, what kind of things did you work on?
Ishida: The first two years were mostly spent creating the game’s world and mechanics. Like deciding how many performances there would be, how the plays would be presented. Would it be a dialogue drama? Would there be mini games? Things like that. We also had to decide whether summer break would be included or not, how raising affection would work and how the choices would be presented. Those are the sort of things that were talked about first.
—You got to watch over the entire game’s development then.
Ishida: At first, I got carried away and envisioned a stage play game full of skill mechanics that I personally enjoyed. A busy game full of specs you can raise and improve in mini games, however when I explained these details to a friend of mine, they were like “You’re just imagining a game that you would like, right?”.
They asked me if that’s what the eventual players of Jack Jeanne would be looking for. That same friend said that since it’s a story that deals with the theme of theatre, it would be better if the player could witness the performances themselves. So I took that advice and the prototype of the current Jack Jeanne was created. I told all of this to Towada-san and had her handle the script.
Towada: You can’t write a script without knowing how the game’s system works after all.
Ishida: Now that I think about it, before Tokyo Ghoul was finished, rather than build the game's foundation, all I was really doing was scattering the sand to prepare for said foundation.
When Tokyo Ghoul entered its endgame especially, I really had to concentrate on it, so I took a six month break from Jack Jeanne. Ending a story requires a lot of energy and attention, so I left the practical work of Jack Jeanne to Towada-san and only supervised the music production and attended any important meetings.
—So during serialisation you were making preparations to jump right into it afterwards?
Ishida: Yes exactly. I wasn’t able to do much practical work, so I had Towada-san prepare the script in advance for me. And for the time being, create one character route.
—Which character was it?
Towada: It was Shirota. I wrote about the equivalent length of a short book and it was more or less complete. In the end, we scrapped the entire thing though… Because the atmosphere in the beginning was quite dark.
Ishida: It was dark because I was too used to Tokyo Ghoul. It included issues like a troubled household and severe bullying. Reading something like that wouldn’t put the player in a happy mood.
Despite it being a story about the theatre, my attention drifted to other topics which didn’t fit. And it was me who had asked Towada-san to write something like that… A couple months after the Shirota route had been completed, I read over what Towada-san had written for me once again and realised that it was a bit too gloomy. I’d forgotten what prompt I’d even given to her in the first place (lol).
The first character portraits and CGs that I created were for Shirota too. The reason being that Shirota is the only second year student and he was already a complete individual, so he was easy to create for. As for the third year students, there’s three of them, Fumi, Kai and Neji. Along with Kisa, Suzu and Yonoga are also first years, so continuity and character relationships need to be taken into account in order to create them, so they were a little more complex.
—How did the other characters come to be?
Ishida: At the proposal stage, the first character that I created was Kai. It’s a game where characters will be falling in love and confessing to one another, so first off I wanted a character that was handsome. Then I made Fumi who would be Kai’s partner. After that, I think Shirota was next.
Towada: At first you created the characters by basing them on plays didn’t you?
Ishida: I’m a fan of Yamamoto Shugoro’s work ‘Kikuchiyosho’ so Shirota was created using that as a base. In Shirota's case the genders are swapped, but Kikuchiyosho is a story about a girl who is born into a samurai family and raised as a boy. It has an element of androgyny and portrays the confusion and anger concerning gender quite well.
—How did you select the plays to base the characters on?
Ishida: I chose plays that lots of people are familiar with and would be easy to assign characters to. Kai is ‘The Phantom of the Opera’, Fumi is ‘Salome’, Neji is ‘Faust’ and Yonoga is ‘Shintokumaru’. Kisa and her classmate Ootori are ‘Don Quixote’. Ootori ended up becoming a side character though.
—So Ootori was originally meant to be a main character?
Ishida: Yeah. If I were to compare it to Tokyo Ghoul, Ootori is in the same position as Tsukiyama. I wanted a pompous character like that in Quartz. However I may have made him a little too unique (lol).
I received feedback from Broccoli that they want the main six characters to be an elite group, so a more easy to approach character would be better. So I moved the bright and cheerful character that I had originally made as Onyx’s Jack Ace over. That character was Suzu.
Making the characters personifications of plays started to become difficult to stick with though, so I abandoned the idea entirely halfway through.
—Despite appearing glamorous, the characters are all dealing with their own issues, like certain complexes and family troubles. I think that they’re all conflicts that are easy to sympathise with, how did you decide what the backbone of each character's conflict would be?
Ishida: First I created the character's appearance and then decided what personality would match them. Like with Fumi, when I began to think about making his story about the unique struggles that come with being born into a respected family, if becoming a successor was going to come into question, then he needed to have a brother.
In this way, I worked backwards from the vibe of his appearance and created his home life. I did the same with the other characters too, thinking things like ‘to have a personality like this they must not have parents, or they must struggle with expressing themselves’.
I think that if you let your characters do human-like things, then aspects of them that are easy to sympathise with will be born.
Jealousy, setbacks due to failure, inferiority complexes… Each and every character naturally ended up having some form of theme attached to them.
—I feel as though Kisa had a different sort of personality than that of a typical heroine.
Ishida: To put it simply, I want my protagonists to be fighting something. If they’re not giving it their all, then it’s no good. If they’re just standing around, then you can’t empathise with them.
—There’s times where she draws others towards her or supports those around her. She also has some masculine aspects to her.
Ishida: I think that I’m moved by characters who make me think “This kid’s really admirable”. That’s why I made Kisa a girl who works hard no matter the difficult situation that she’s in. I like Kisa and I’m sure Towada-san feels the same way.
Towada: She’s the result of both of our preferences. While due to the game’s setting, she of course has struggles related to being a girl, but I was careful to write the main thread of her story in a way that transcended gender and instead simply showed her charm as a human being.
—Regarding gender, I was impressed by how neutrally it was portrayed.
Ishida: Yes. Originally, I was going to make Shirota a character with a feminine personality, but I ended up scrapping the idea. In the end, he ended up having more of a masculine mentality. The premise of Jack Jeanne is that boys also play the female roles on stage, but it’s not a metaphor for anything and I didn’t want it to raise any questions. I simply wanted to give it my all creating plays with that setting and create something new and refreshing.
I don’t struggle with any gender related issues myself, so it’s not like I can fully understand what it’s like, but in general I’ve never considered gender to be a very big deal. If someone born male were to tell me “I have the heart of a woman” then I’d just think ‘ok cool’.
To me it feels strange to place so much weight on such an issue. I don't see why others need to be bothered by someone else's gender, I'm not since I myself am not able to speak for such experiences.
Towada: At first, it was possible to take that direction with Shirota but as I continued to write, I came to realise that there was no need to exaggerate any emphasis on his gender identity.
To those looking from an outside perspective, it may seem like a unique identity such as that is a person's defining trait, when in reality it's only just a portion of their whole self. If you consider it to be all they are, then you end up denying the other aspects of that person.
Whilst considering the individually of each character, I kept in mind to write them in a way that seemed natural for them.
—The side character, Tanakamigi Chui of Amber, had a very striking presence. How did you go about creating him?
Ishida: I wanted someone that’s easily understood to be the antagonist, so I went ahead and tried to draw someone who looked like an unstoppable genius. Despite being a second year, it’s as if he controls the school. I wanted an enigmatic and intriguing character like that. Once I named him Tanakamigi Chui I felt as though he was complete and his inclusion in the story was quickly decided on.
—On the flip side, were there any characters that you had a hard time creating?
Ishida: I had to think a little harder about the other members of Amber. They needed to have the aura of the enemy but since they’re only villains in the context of the stage, they’re not actually bad people. So it was hard to find that balance between them.
Visually they’re edgy and have a talented vibe, but they also have their own individual quirks, they’re not all homogeneous. I struggled with Kamiya Utsuri especially, I wanted him to visually look like he could be a Jeanne while also still looking like a boy, so it was difficult to get him right. I didn’t have to do many redesigns though and all the other characters came to be without much trouble.
What I actually had more trouble with, was the fact I made the cast too large. I initially created almost double the amount of first year characters, but when I looked back over the script that Towada-san created, I told her “There’s way too many characters, please cut some of them out.” To which Towada-san replied, “Ishida-san, you’re the one who created them in the first place.” (lol).
Towada: That’s because the cut characters had already appeared in the script (lol).
Ishida: I feel that when there’s too many characters a lot of them get wasted, so just like that I end up creating and scrapping a lot of my characters. I think even Broccoli were surprised by the amount of times I’d suddenly tell them “Oh that character doesn’t exist anymore.”
—Apart from characters, were there any other aspects of the game that were abruptly discarded?
Ishida: The performances I suppose… Originally I had wanted there to be a larger variety of shows, but if you were to put all of them in the script it probably would’ve ended up being three million characters long.
In the beginning of development, I had originally planned for each character's route to have a different final performance. There’s six main characters, and including Kisa’s route, that would total to seven unique shows.
Before that there’s the newcomers, summer, autumn and winter performances, so I arranged to have a script written for each. Basically I wanted to include more shows and increase the amount of sub stories, but that would be confusing to play through and development would never end. The game engine has its limits too, so I decided to keep it simple.
Towada: It would’ve been difficult to play through all that as well (lol). For the final performance, we settled on it being one show and letting the player enjoy it from each character’s perspective instead. And even then, there’s still over 20 different endings to the game, so it still took a long time until everything was fully complete.
—Newcomers, summer, autumn, winter and the final performance, were these five show’s scripts all original?
Towada: Yes. However at first, like the characters, we had planned to base them on famous productions. Like Shakespeare or fairy tales. We figured that players would find it easy to get immersed in plays that they were already familiar with.
Ishida: For the newcomers' performance, I thought we could have a show called ‘House of Biscuits and Candy’ based on Hansel and Gretel. I had also originally planned to use each character's motif to base the plays on.
Towada: Like Shintokumaru, right?
Ishida: Yeah yeah. I even went as far as getting permission to use it, but if the show were to be following a story that already exists, then the script would be bound to it. Once I understood that it would make it difficult to relate the stories to Univeil, we decided to create the plays ourselves.
Since I acquired the permission to adapt Shintokumaru though, maybe I’ll have to make a manga about it someday…
By the way, the one who was saying “Let’s do this” and then changing it to “Nevermind let’s not” was all me. I’ll start on something wholeheartedly thinking that it’s the right choice before realising halfway through that I can’t actually take it anywhere and stop. Jack Jeanne’s development was full of trial and error.
Whenever I’m about to start something, Towada-san will express her concerns with my ideas but I always end up pushing on with them only to ultimately scrap it.
I probably have at least ten books worth of scrapped drafts alone. I had no real knowledge of how to properly craft a story. I hadn’t drawn anything other than Tokyo Ghoul, so even though I had no idea what the fundamentals of storytelling were, I misunderstood that I could write other kinds of stories too. This time around I studied and revised each time… I really learnt a lot.
Towada: You learn things by doing them, so I think I just got used to it (lol). Also, you don’t commonly see stories presented within stories, I thought that it was a rare case for a game especially.
~ ~ ~
The story behind ‘Lyrics: Ishida Sui’
—You also wrote the lyrics for each of the songs used in the performances didn’t you, Ishida-san?
Ishida: Yes, that’s how things ended up. It goes without saying, but no one, including myself, thought that I’d be the one writing the lyrics.
Originally Broccoli brought in several professional lyricists and had me look over what they’d written. However I couldn’t help but feel that they were lyrics I’d heard somewhere before, or they at least didn’t leave a unique impression on me. I did feel the finesse of a professional, and they were beautiful lyrics that fit the story in one way or another… But the words used didn’t touch on the core of the story.
The songs in Jack Jeanne are stage songs that Neji wrote for the members of Quartz. So unless you’re familiar with the setting and understand how the characters are feeling, then you won’t be able to write lyrics that perfectly fit the scenario.
While I knew that my lyric writing technique would be far from that of a professionals, I thought that no one understands and loves these characters more than me, so I approached Broccoli about it. I’d poured my heart into not only the character designs, but also the story and system of the game, so I didn’t want to compromise on the lyrics and have them pale in comparison.
So, to the best of my ability, I wanted to at least try my hand at writing them. I had Broccoli check whether or not what I’d written was viable and asked them “If there are no problems, then please let me write the lyrics.”
—Did you sing the temporary vocals for the songs too?
Ishida: When I submitted the lyrics to Broccoli, I got the normal response of “Thank you, we’ll leave the temporary vocals to you.” Along with this message they also wrote “You can hire a professional vocalist if you’d like, or you could record the temporary vocals yourself.”
Because of this I started thinking that maybe I should record them myself. Similar to how one wouldn’t be able to write lyrics for the songs without a deep understanding of the story, if you weren’t the one who wrote the lyrics, you wouldn’t know how they’re supposed to be sung either.
So, after deciding that I had to be the one to do it, I made preparations to acquire some audio recording equipment and downloaded some editing software. I divided up the parts and harmonised with myself and over the course of three days, I finished recording the temporary vocals. That’s more or less how I did it.
—When recording yourself singing, being self conscious about it can interfere, can’t it?
Ishida: I don’t think I was possessed by him or anything, but… When I tried to go all out, as expected I felt a bit hesitant, so I began recording whilst imagining I was Neji.
In the game, Neji is the one who writes the scripts, so surely he would also write the lyrics and subdivide the song and do everything himself. So I got through it thinking like that. In that pumped up mental state, I sent in the temporarily recorded songs but all Broccoli said back was “Alright, let us know your upcoming schedule”, I got so carried away that I was somewhat bewildered by the cold response (lol).
~ ~ ~
Recruiting via DM, gathering specifically selected creators
—It appears the creators you gathered to handle things such as the concept art and music are all people whose work you enjoy.
Ishida: Yes. Almost everyone was sent a targeted offer. For example, I’ve always loved the concept artist Lownine-san’s work ever since I was a student. I suppose you could say I was jealous of how high quality their artwork is… They’re someone who I thought I'd never be able to beat in my entire life. Lownine-san is an amazing artist who is especially good at blending characters into their backgrounds.
When we were creating Jack Jeanne, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to pull something like that off, so I definitely wanted to recruit Lownine-san for the job. After getting permission from Broccoli, I reached out to Lownine-san myself through Twitter DM’s. I had only appreciated Lownine-san’s work from afar, and we’d never actually interacted before, but we did both follow each other. I received a reply that Lownine-san was fully on board to accept the job.
Towards the end of Jack Jeanne’s development, I got the chance to speak with Lownine-san, so I asked them “Could you teach me how to draw?” They gladly accepted this request and taught me how to draw whilst screen sharing over Skype. However, in about 10 minutes, they’d already drawn such an amazing piece that I felt I should just put my pen down (lol).
Towada: You were a little down after that, weren’t you?
—Had you been a fan of Kosemura-san, who was in charge of music, since you were a student as well?
Ishida: Yes, I’ve listened to Kosemura-san’s music a lot since I was a student. When I was brainstorming what kind of music would fit Jack Jeanne, Kosemura-san’s ‘Light Dance’ immediately came to mind, since it fit perfectly. Because I didn’t have any personal connections to Kosemura-san however, I didn’t know how to get in contact with him, so I made the request through Broccoli. I only found out about this recently, but apparently Kosemura-san almost turned the offer down*, I was quite shocked to hear that (lol).
*When the initial request was sent, it was under wraps that the game was being made by Ishida Sui, and since Kosemura-san didn’t have much experience in writing game music, he wasn’t optimistic about the offer. However, later, when he learned that it was a game being made by Ishida Sui, he readily accepted the offer.
—How did Seishiro-san, who was in charge of the choreography, get chosen for the job?
Ishida: A very long time ago I saw the group Tokyo Gegegay appear on a program called DANCE @ HERO JAPAN and I remember thinking ‘this group is crazy good’ and I was immediately charmed by them. After that, whilst I was looking through more videos of Tokyo Gegegay on YouTube, I happened upon a studio workshop video and discovered Seishiro-san.
—What about him caught your eye?
Ishida: Whilst first and foremost his dancing was super sexy, it also had a certain strength to it. I remember thinking that he danced in a way that embraced the best elements of both masculinity and femininity. And that had stayed in my memory ever since. When Seishiro-san was recording motion capture for the game, he allowed me to interrupt and even taught me some of the choreography.
(note: you can watch Seishiro dance here, he is also the choreographer behind this RADWIMPS music video!)
—I hear you’ve known Gyudon-san, who was in charge of making the movies, since your Tokyo Ghoul days.
Ishida: Yes. Around the time volume 13 of Tokyo Ghoul was set to be released, we held a still image MAD (Music Anime Douga) contest. The grand prize winner of said contest was Gyudon-san, who at the time was still only a student. The way they made a video by manipulating the manga panels to move so fluidly was really cool and stood out from the rest.
Around when Tokyo Ghoul had ended and :re was about to start, I had Gyudon-san make a minute long video for me. After that, Gyudon-san grew in popularity and became someone whose work is in high demand, so they seemed very busy.
However when Jack Jeanne was announced, we were able to have them create a promotional video for us. Since I’ve known them since Tokyo Ghoul, I figured I couldn’t go wrong entrusting the job to Gyudon-san. They didn’t just deliver their finished work without a word either, Gyudon-san also made a variety of suggestions and worked on the project with a positive attitude. For the videos used in the performances, I was asked to provide materials and became very involved in the process. I think it took about two weeks… Despite the really tight deadline, Gyudon-san allowed me to catch up and was super helpful.
I was also the one who reached out to Touyama Maki-san, who was in charge of creating the in-game chibi characters and the 4koma manga used for promotional purposes. During Tokyo Ghoul’s publication, Touyama-san would draw short comics for the series as a hobby, I thought they were a nice person for doing so. Their art was great too and I was very thankful. So when it was decided that we’d be displaying chibi characters during the game’s lesson segments, I wanted to leave it to Touyama-san and sent them the offer.
(note: this is the MAD that gyudon won the contest with, they now regularly make moving manga CM's for jump titles, they make the Choujin X ones too!)
~ ~ ~
The winter performance moves into Quartz’s ending, and the divergence in the story since the beginning of the year drastically branches off
—The performances, packed full of each of the character’s skills, continue for a year and pass by in the blink of an eye. Once the new year breaks, it feels as though the atmosphere of the game drastically changes. What were your intentions behind this?
Towada: That’s when the character route specific endings begin. So we packed all the needed material to set them up into the winter performance.
Ishida: The winter performance is like an ending for Quartz as a whole, so we packed it full of good lines and scenes without holding back. I may have used up all of my cards but by using them all without compromise, we were able to make the story reach a nice peak. After that, the story switches to focusing on each character's individual ending.
Towada: We used a lot of great material in the winter performance, which meant the final performance would have to be even better still. In a good way, it gave us a higher hurdle that we now needed to overcome.
—So you needed to create even more anticipation heading into March?
Towada: From January to March, each character’s route is completely different. From the new year onwards I needed to create seven different scripts, so it was very challenging. The amount of text for the last three months of the game alone just about eclipses the amount of text from up until the winter performance. There was so much to write that I began to fear I wouldn’t even be able to finish it.
Ishida: Having more choices that drastically change the ending of the game makes the player feel more involved. So, despite it making things tougher on ourselves, around the time we were working on the autumn performance is when we began thinking about how the game’s big branches should work. Along with the main routes, we also planned for there to be the option to deepen your bonds with the side characters.
—How did you go about creating the confession scenes?
Towada: Before the winter performance, to some extent each character has already grown closer to Kisa, so I kept in mind not to disrupt that flow. Since if I didn’t make it a confession that respected both Kisa and her suitor’s feelings, then I felt it would spoil the fun.
—Is that how you approached the ‘realising Kisa’s a girl’ scenes as well?
Towada: Yes, I suppose so. As I was writing the script, I knew that a point was going to come where Kisa would have no choice but to acknowledge the fact that she’s a girl. There’s characters that realise her true gender once their bond deepens and on the flip side, there are some who don’t realise it at all. There’s also the case of Yonaga, who knew Kisa’s situation from the beginning. I guess you could say each reveal followed one of these three patterns. Those who came to realise it, those who didn’t notice anything and those who knew from the start. I think they ended up being nice variations and I put careful consideration into writing them to make sure none of the realisations felt forced.
Also, the beginning half of the story is akin to that of a sports drama about teenagers putting on shows together, so the room for romance to be added is limited. That’s why, when I first started adding romantic elements to the character routes, it felt strange to me, so I discussed it with Ishida-san. I wasn’t able to effortlessly soak the story in romance. I think I had to rewrite Shirota’s ending at least three times…
Ishida: Shirota was who you tried writing an ending for first after all.
Towada: Shirota and Kisa aren’t the sort of people who’d be all flirty, and Shirota’s initial route was already muddy, so it was difficult to pull everything together. However, once I stopped trying to write in a way that forced romance on them and instead wrote them becoming closer as partners, things went more smoothly.
It may not be a stereotypical sort of love, but it was a human love. I thought that the natural way these two would be drawn together wouldn’t be through whispering sweet nothings to one another, but instead by coming to understand one another without having to exchange words at all. Once I’d completed Shirota’s route, to some extent, I continued writing the other routes in a similar way.
Ishida: While it’s true Shirota acts like that, the other characters all act differently. To the point some aren’t even comparable. In contrast to Shirota, Suzu’s route ended up being more of your stereotypical kind of romance. I thought that it would be nice for each character to have their own unique form of love.
Towada-san’s strong suit is writing a love story with your more classic otome guys like Suzu and Kai. I have no idea about that kind of thing, so I left Towada-san to pour her own ideas into their routes. On the flip side, characters like Fumi and Neji were dyed more with my own ideas. Neji’s way of flirting especially were mostly lines that I requested.
Towada: He’d say “Make him say something like ‘Try seduce me!’ Because I want this CG to appear.” (lol).
Neji especially plays with his words a lot, so unless Ishida-san told me what wordplay to write, I wouldn’t have been able to expand on it. Ishida-san has a very unique way of phrasing things, so I asked him for advice a lot to make sure I was making Neji speak in a Neji-like way. I then arranged the lines and created events in order to reach the intended goal. I constructed the route in a way that wouldn’t disrupt the flow of the story. As for Fumi, Ishida-san wrote his route himself.
Ishida: Yes, I wrote it all myself.
—Well isn’t this quite the exciting plot twist?
Ishida: I turned into quite the young maiden myself (lol). Even though I’m clumsy at it… I began wondering why I ended up loving writing it so much. I added some lines that have more of an adult and deeper meaning to them, so when I played the route myself I was like “Woah!”.
Towada: It’s more interesting if at least one character is that way. From the early days of production, I’d quietly wanted Ishida-san to write a character himself, so I was happy. I was unsure how to deal with Fumi too, so it was a big help that Ishida-san took him on. His route ended up being a lot sweeter than I’d been expecting though, it got my heart racing (lol).
Ishida: I was also the main writer for Kisa’s solo route. There’s no romance in it, but it’s an ending where long lasting friendships are born and it ended up being the kind of story you’d see in an uplifting shoujo manga.
Towada: It’s full of Ishida-san’s flair, I loved it.
Ishida: If love is a lie, then how do you face that lie? That’s the sort of thing I thought about. Kisa is lying about her gender and pretending to be a boy, but Neji, Suzu, Fumi, Yonaga and so on, are also hiding lies within themselves.
The fact they’re all hiding their true motives is something that they have in common with Kisa. Whilst hiding, the two grow closer. I think that a confession is a scene where all these lies intersect and burst open. Everyone is lying, and I thought that was like a play, without realising it I think that slowly became the theme of the work.
As people, we meet others whilst lacking something and some people end up becoming a necessary part for someone else. I wanted to see a drama like that. Despite it being a game with confession scenes, I wanted it to be a story that both women and men alike are able to identify with.
~ ~ ~
From thorns to rounded edges, how the style of work transformed
—If there was a small novels worth of rejected material, then how many books worth of words made it into the final game?
Towada: In terms of paperback books, probably about twenty volumes worth.
—Because as well as the main scenario, there’s also the sub scenarios and the stage plays?
Ishida: As much as time allowed, I put my all into creating the game. However there was a deadline for things like the voiceline recordings, so I was working both day and night to get things done in time.
Towada: I was only getting around three hours of sleep. I feel like at one point Ishida-san didn’t sleep for four days.
Ishida: I was in a serious pinch so I don’t remember it well, but when I was writing the script I would hole myself up in a manga cafe for around thirty hours at a time. Multiple times a month. Once I felt as though I’d written to a good point, I’d go home only to return to the manga cafe again. Why? Because I was sleeping in the manga cafe. I mays well have been living there…
Towada: Once Ishida-san had finished writing his part of the script, he’d have me check it. So at the same time, I’d have Ishida-san check what I’d written.
Ishida: For a period of time it seemed like Towada-san was always awake. Whenever I would send a check request she always responded right away regardless of the time, so I figured she must not be sleeping.
So that my productivity wouldn’t be affected, I made sure to sleep at a regular time, however I’d be awake for like 30~40 hours at a time and then sleep for 10 and then be awake again for another 40. My sleeping patterns would repeat in this cycle. During Tokyo Ghoul’s serialisation my sleeping patterns were similar, so to some extent I might’ve gotten used to it.
—That’s just like Neji-senpai, isn’t it?
Ishida: Yeah yeah, I worked in a similar way to him. However in Neji’s case, he can complete a script just one day after coming up with the idea for it, so he works way faster than us. It took us around two months to write parts of the script, so Neji really is a genius isn’t he? I was writing whilst wishing I could be like Neji.
After experiencing writing a script, I’ve come to have a lot of respect for authors. Writing is completely different from drawing. When writing I need to really concentrate on it, I can’t multi-task or think about anything else. Whereas with drawing, there are some things that can be done as long as you can move your hand, so I can talk to someone whilst drawing or watch a movie in the background or work whilst thinking about other things. I can’t do that when I’m writing though, I was starting to wonder if I really had to think so deeply about everything I wrote.
—During the production of Jack Jeanne, as you worked on the script or the lyrics etc, did you notice any changes in how you worked?
Ishida: For Tokyo Ghoul, I was always consciously adding things, meaning I would draw everything that I came up with. I thought that it was fine to only put 20% of my output into the characters and dialogue. However, when I was working on Jack Jeanne, I began to think that my method of just adding things was incorrect and that I should also consciously remove things. It’s ok to just be left with what’s necessary. My way of thinking ended up being the exact opposite to before.
—What brought about this change in thinking?
Ishida: It was early in production, when I had asked Towada-san to write Shirota’s route for me, I got concerned about the ‘sharpness’ of the story. As I mentioned earlier, I ordered Towada-san to add this and that and sent her walking on a long journey. Except, what lay completed at the end of that road was such a painful story that even I myself was shocked by it. When I looked down at the world I had created it was as if I’d received a psychological shock. I think I even smelt the faint scent of blood.
—From thorns to rounded edges. I still remember the comment you made during a press conference saying, “I was careful to not kill off any characters”.
Ishida: Stories where characters die are usually fast paced with high stakes, however, the kids at univeil are living a different kind of story. I had to consider the best way to create drama in that kind of setting. I thought about it a lot and it may have only ended up being possible because of the fact it was a game.
—Why is that?
Ishida: Because of the flow of the dialogue, backed by Kosemura-san’s music while it's being read out by all of the voice actors. It all comes together as one… That’s what I think at least. Writing and illustrating are Towada-san and I’s main domain of expertise, but I think that it was thanks to all of the other various creators involved that we were able to create something new.
—Do you think anything about yourself changed, Towada-san?
Towada: It came down to the fact I wanted to create something for Ishida-san whilst there were also things that I wanted to add myself. This dilemma caused me trouble at times, however when I started to consider what components I should add, or which ones I should remove, I began to discover what elements I liked and what my own skillset was.
The way that Ishida-san and I go about creating stories is different. I came to understand that Ishida-san’s strong point is creating impactful scenes, whilst mine is plotting and world building. Ishida-san being in charge of the pivotal scenes would make things more exciting, so I concentrated on writing everything else whilst keeping the balance in mind. Through working on Jack Jeanne, I’ve become able to say that my strong suit is being able to create a story that flows well.
It may be true that by working with other people, you come to understand more about yourself. Starting with Ishida-san, I also looked at what the other creators were doing and thought ‘so this is how they interpret the story.’ Seeing what they came up with made me notice different approaches that I hadn’t thought of.
I’d write whilst listening to Kosemura-san’s music and decide which way to take a scene. Or I’d watch Seishiro-san dance and think about how I could make the performances more exciting. We were all connected in some way. Novels are usually written alone by one person, so I came to learn the thrill of working on something in a team.
—The way you all came together as gears to create a single work sounds similar to the story of Univeil.
Towada: True. I never thought I’d experience something straight out of my youth again at this age. Being helped by other team members or being supported by them, being motivated by simple phrases like “It was great” or “I like this idea”.
For example, when I was working on the final phases of the story, I was just writing and writing with no end in sight, I couldn’t take it anymore and my pen just stopped moving. During this dire moment so close to the end, my proofreader messaged me saying, “You’re almost done.” And with that simple message alone, it was as if a burst of light appeared before my eyes. Everything had gone pitch black, but they lit everything back up again. Ishida-san also wrote some of the script, so I didn’t feel as alone.
Ishida: At that time I left all my drawings alone and decided to solely focus on the scenario.
Towada: Yeah, because I hit a point where I wasn’t able to write it on my own anymore… When Ishida-san sent me the script he’d written, it was interesting and I let out a breath of relief. I felt the joy of being able to see someone else's work. I was the same as the Univeil students who find joy in performing with others. I definitely wouldn’t have been able to do it if I was alone.
Ishida: You’ve got that right. I think that if anyone was missing from the team, it wouldn’t have worked out. Not to mention that in my case, everyone’s contributions were directed to me, and they were all people that I’d personally gathered.
With manga, even if it comes to the worst case scenario, at the very least it would all just fall on me. However this game isn’t just something I made on my own, I need to contribute as much as I can or the efforts of everyone around me will go to waste as well. There was a moment where I felt afraid of having such a heavy responsibility placed on me. However, if I had tried to do it all on my own, I think I would have given up.
By listening to wonderful music, reading interesting scripts and moving forward together with everyone, I was inspired. Coming together with fellow creators to make one work came with a lot of challenges, but it was fun. It was refreshing being in an environment working alongside other people, and because of it I was able to experience something new.
—Has working alongside other people changed the way you work at all?
Ishida: Right now I’m still in the state immediately after being swept away by the raging waves of a storm, so I’m not sure how I really feel yet. I’m in the phase of just watching what becomes of Jack Jeanne as the waves subside.
Even though the script and illustrations were done, like bonus stages lots and lots of new tasks kept popping up. So I was still busy with work up until the beginning of October last year. When I looked at some of the thoughts people had on the demo version of the game, it felt as though what we’d all been working so hard on had finally taken shape, and I was relieved.
Working on this project I’ve come to learn both the hardships and the fulfilment that comes with creating something with others. So, I suppose I’ve started considering working on something by myself again… I’m not trying to say that it’s in my nature to want to work alone, I think I’m just experiencing some kind of aftershock. I think the waves are returning.
Towada: I’m still working overtime and supervising Jack Jeanne (lol). Like checking content that will be posted on social media, as well as the 4koma manga. Content is still being released and there have been bug reports from some people who played the demo… Meaning that my journey is still not over yet. I think that things should calm down once the game has been released for a while.
Ishida: Yeah, probably after around five months (lol).
—After their final performance, the members of Quartz all threw a party to celebrate. Did you and the rest of the creators do the same upon the game's completion?
Towada: I celebrated with Ishida-san as siblings. And then afterwards we got swamped with work again (lol).
Ishida: Yeah, we didn’t end up meeting with the other developers or the voice cast. Big project after parties aren’t as common these days, but I do want to hear everyone’s stories of any struggles they had.
Towada: There were way too many people involved in total for me to be able to speak with them all, but I’d still love to convey my impressions to them. Like letting them know what I thought was good, or letting them know that a certain thing really helped me out.
Ishida: Ideally I would like to gather everyone and really have it feel that ‘this is the team of people that created Jack Jeanne’ and I’d like to express my gratitude to them all in person. I hope that an opportunity like that will come one day.
~ ~ ~
#jack jeanne#sui ishida#towada shin#translation#jack jeanne translation#jack jeanne interview#sui ishida translation#otome game#jack jeanne art book
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
stay with me - swiss ghoul x reader
masterlist.
Author’s note: Hey ghesties I was in the mood to write some heart-wrenching angst because I love it sm, also this is my first ghost fic I’ve ever written so yeah hope you like it and requests are always open :) also any ghouls I write for are to be read as the characters, not the people behind the masks. Enjoy!!
Other things to note: reader’s gender is not mentioned, reader and swiss are in an established relationship, reader’s mental health is not the greatest, reader has a black cat named Jiji, reader is in the 3rd year of college.
Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST, slightly suggestive towards the end, hurt/comfort, no pronouns used for reader (swiss calls reader 'baby')
Word count: 1569 words
You had secluded yourself in your room, fuming. You and Swiss had just had a massive argument, the whole time you just felt arguing with him was pointless; but he wouldn’t give up. This time he had really hurt you, saying that if you weren’t going to support him, maybe you two should break up. Jiji, your teeny ball of adorable darkness, trotted over to you and rubbed its head on your leg. You sighed and picked him up, holding him close to your chest. You gave him a few kisses and he mewed as you sat down on your bed.
“..Jiji.. what am I gonna do.. he won’t listen to me..” You whispered softly as you pet him. He mewed again in response, softly purring on your arms. You chuckled lightly, then felt a few tears welling in your eyes.
“This whole thing just feels like…” you trailed off, mostly talking to yourself. You sniffed as tears started to fall. “..Maybe he’s right.. y’know?.. Maybe I am destined to be alone forever…” You held Jiji a bit tighter, trying not to cry.
Suddenly, as if he had a sixth sense, Swiss barged into your room. “Baby.. baby, I’m so sorry.. please don’t cry.. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it..” He said quickly, rushing over to hug you. Jiji leapt from your arms and laid on the bed, right on your pillow.
You stood up as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You sobbed into his chest, your hands holding onto his shirt tightly.
“Shh.. I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry.. I didn’t mean to say what I said, I’m so sorry..” Swiss whispered, rubbing your back soothingly as you continued to cry.
After a few minutes of crying, you had calmed down a bit and started to speak. “..S-Swiss, I-“
He cut you off by placing a soft kiss to your lips. You stood in shock for a few seconds, another tear falling down your cheek. You kissed him back gently.
“Shh.. ‘m so sorry, baby.. I never meant to make you feel alone..” He apologized over and over as he pulled away briefly to look into your eyes.
“…if I’m being honest.. maybe you’re right..” You started, looking down. “..you know I don’t have enough money to follow you everywhere for your tours.. and then there’s my schooling..” Your voice catches in your throat as it hurt to say those words aloud.
“…Wait.. What? What- what are you saying, love?” Swiss stared at you in shock and confusion. He had never thought that you would’ve actually thought of ending your relationship with him.
“…y’know.. maybe we should take a break.. you’re always gone and.. and I need someone to be here for me, physically, for when I need hugs.. you know what I mean..?” You whispered, still looking down. It broke your heart to say those words, but maybe it really was for the best.
He froze, his heart shattering inside his chest. His eyes got wide as he just looked at you.
“A.. A break…?” He stuttered, as if not believing what you said.
“What do you mean? You want to... You want to... Be... Be away from me.. When I’m here..?” He asked, his voice sounding scared and he felt his eyes welling up.
It broke your heart to see how badly your words had hurt him.
“Take a break…” he repeated to himself, as if the words had just registered into his brain.
“But that means... That means... No more... No more... Kisses? No more... hugs... No more... Cuddling...? No more Jiji..?” His voice cracks towards the end of the sentence, now starting to cry. “Why…?” He asked, trying to stop you.
“Please... Please don’t do this..“He looked at you as if he was begging and his eyes were filled with desperate tears... He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to let you go.
You looked back up at him as you heard him start to cry.
“..I- I’m sorry, Swiss… b-but if you think that might be best-“
“No! No, I don’t think that’s the best!” Swiss exclaimed immediately. “Look, I- I let my temper get to the best of me, okay? I’m sorry I said that.. I didn’t mean it. Please, baby, don’t go.. I need you..“ He pleaded desperately, now starting to sob as well.
You just stared at him longingly, feeling very guilty as you watched him cry. You started to cry as well, bringing a hand to your moth to try and stifle your sobs.
“Please... I'm sorry... I'll do... I'll do anything... Please…” He begged again, holding you tighter. You sniffed. “..’m sorry, Swiss.. I’m so sorry..” You pulled away, wiping your tears. He stared at you in shock, deeply hurt.
“..W-What do you mean..? You’re not… you’re not breaking up with me.. are you..?” He whispered.
“I…” You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t bring yourself to actually break up with him. He was too perfect. You felt so terrible for doing this.
“..Please.. don’t look at me like that..” You silently begged. He smiled sadly, caressing your cheeks with both his hands. He looked at you for a moment, then he leaned closer and he started kissing you tenderly, his lips meeting yours passionately and softly. He wasn't trying to be too quick, he just wanted to feel your body against him. He wanted to feel safe and loved by you again.
You let out a soft whimper as you felt him kiss you. You stepped back a bit, but kissed him back softly. You pulled away briefly. “…Swiss.. I…”
He stayed quiet for a few moments, but he kept kissing you. He was slowly picking up the pace, feeling you against him as his lips went down to your neck. “You're so beautiful... I missed your skin... I missed everything about you…” He whispered. He put his arm around your waist and he smiled, his eyes closed. For a few moments he felt safe and he felt free, he felt like nothing bad could happen now that he was with you again.
“Mm… S-Swiss.. please..” You put your hand on top of one of his to pull his arm off your waist, but instead it lingers. He looked at you, not believing you were still trying to end it. He was hurt so much that he didn't know how to answer you for a moment, he stayed silent. He started to open his mouth to say something, but then he closed it. He couldn't say anything... He felt like his words were trapped inside his throat.
“Why…?” He asked softly. “Why do you want to... Break... U-us…?” He paused and his voice started to break now. He was about to cry again.
“Please, baby... Please... I love... I love you, I…”
He choked on his words and he covered his face to muffle his cry. “I can't... I can't do this... I can’t… I need you, baby..”
In that moment you regretted everything. You hated hurting him, and it just broke your heart to pieces to see him like this.
“I’m so sorry, Swiss.. I’m so sorry.. I didn’t mean to hurt you..” You said in a quiet voice, hugging him tightly as you sobbed. He was held you as tight as he could without hurting you, his voice sounding broken and almost whispering.
“I love you…”
He kept looking at your face as he kissed you and he tried to make you happy, to make you stay.
“I.. I need you... Please, don't... Don't leave me...
He was caressed your face, and he kissed you again, a little more passionately than before.
“Please... Please... Baby…” He mumbled between kisses, and you felt his tears fall as well as yours. He was desperate and he didn't want you to go.
You kissed him back with the same passion, feeling terrible. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him in closer as you two continued to kiss each other, both still crying.
“I love you.. I’m so sorry, Swiss.. I’m so sorry..” You repeated every time in between kisses.
“I love you... I love you…” He repeated his words, his voice breaking again as he continued to kiss you.
Eventually he backed you up to the bed and you both sat down, still giving each other short but passionate kisses. You pulled away, sobbing.
“..I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to hurt you… I feel terrible..” Your voice cracks, and he wipes your tears, disregarding his own. He smiled sadly.
“..No, no… Don’t be sorry.. I’m the one that should be sorry.. I made you feel like I didn’t want you anymore.. I should’ve controlled my temper.. I’m so sorry.. Will you ever forgive me..?” He pulled you into his arms again, having you sit on his lap. You buried your face into his neck, holding onto his shirt tightly, letting a few last quiet sobs out. He rubbed your back soothingly, not caring that you got his shirt wet. “Shh… it’ll be okay..” He whispered. “..Will you ever forgive me…?”
You nodded. “Yes.. yes, of course.. of course I forgive you. I love you.” You whispered with a smile.
He smiled contently, resting his head on yours gently. “Thank you…” he whispered, continuing to rub your back and humming softly soon after, lulling you to sleep.
#the band ghost#swiss ghoul#swiss ghost#swiss ghoul x reader#ghost bc#ghost#ghost band#ghost the band#nameless ghouls#ghost band x reader#angst#pure angst#hurt/comfort#good ending#gender neutral reader#no pronouns used for reader#idk how to tag this#swiss x reader#nameless ghouls x reader#multi ghoul#swiss army ghoul
251 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
fuckyeahrhodgilbert
Fuck Yeah Rhod Gilbert
sky45
Untitled
wtfkamazon-blog
I like to
roy20222
PecintaPekTek
fiftyshadesofmetal
Tab's Transformers Dump