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#“don’t worry. this is just the beginning.
a-b-riddle · 3 days
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Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.
At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.
But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.
Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.
Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.
It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.
And boy, do you.
You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.
Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.
Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.
“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.
“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.
“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”
“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.
“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.
You took a deep breath.
“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.
The mask?
“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”
“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.
Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.
“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”
“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”
He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.
“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.
“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”
“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”
“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.
“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”
He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.
Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.
“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”
Simon rolls his eyes.
Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.
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sea-lanterns · 2 days
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BAD DOG!
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synopsis: you decide to muzzle your puppy girlfriend for the first time
featuring: jean, navia, beidou, miko
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, dog hybrid characters, muzzles, biting, possessive characters, feral women, transfem navia and transfem miko, cunni.lingus (jean), sixty nine position (jean), pet names, degradation, knotted strap ons (beidou), mating press (beidou), knots, bre.eding kink (miko), predator and prey kink (miko) do.ggy style (miko), may be ooc, not proofread.
art credits: unknown (found on pinterest)
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JEAN
“My darling please, please…I want to taste you so bad…please…” Jean whimpered and pawed at your fingers to unfasten the muzzle currently strapped to her jaw. She even growled a bit louder than usual as her floppy little tail wagged back and forth in anticipation of having your sweet pussy on her tongue. “I don’t even understand why I have to wear this…” Jean whines, her floppy ears lowering, “I don’t even have a biting problem. I’ve been more than gentle with you, my love…”
“It’s more so to satisfy a kink I have, rather than to actually punish you, Jean.” You chuckle quietly, gently stroking her sad puppy ears. “And you look so cute with the muzzle on!”
Jean whines and pushes her caged mouth closer to your face. “But I want to taste you…” she whispers into your ear, her lower body rubbing against your hips rather sensually. “I want to satisfy you. Shove my tongue inside that soft, velvety hole of yours and bury my face between your legs until— mmpf…” 
Her pupils blow back in lust when you gently rub against the crotch area of her pants, watching as a little wet spot begins to form the harder you continue to rub. “You will, but right now I want to see my puppy whine for me.”
And Jean did just that, her tail flopping submissively as she leans forward to press her muzzled face against your cheek. Her tongue pathetically darts out to try and kiss you through the metal bars of her caged head, whimpering as she could barely even reach you for a kiss. “My love…”
Oh this was torture for poor little Jean. She had spent the day working hard with only thoughts of her pretty girlfriend to keep her occupied. She was so eager to sink her thirsty little mouth into your dripping wet cunt, yet here you were, teasing her for no reason with this embarrassing toy of yours that restricted her access to tasting you! 
“At least let me kiss you…” Jean whispers softly, looking up at you with those big, pathetic puppy dog eyes that you grew oh so weak to. “I want to kiss my girlfriend, please…”
“Ohhh, Jean…” Fuck. You can’t help but instinctively reach over to unfasten the strap to her muzzle. “Fine. But only one ki— AH!” 
What a trickster! Jean has instantly torn off the muzzle and crawled down to face your clothed cunt, before tearing off your underwear with one eager claw. 
“Jean!”
“I’m sorry! I’ll buy you another pair!”
Yet she didn’t look too apologetic as she immediately drooled at the sight of your bare pussy before face planting right into your folds, moaning when she felt her tongue hit contact against your clit. Eager that she was, Jean lapped at your swollen slit like it was a treat that had been dangling above her for hours, the feeling of her drooling, messy tongue just sloppily pushing against your lips making you feel like you were in heaven.
“Ah…! Eager puppy, aren’t you?” You looked up to see her curly tail just wagging so much in excitement, the feast between your legs proving to be quite an amazing treat for your dearest puppy girl; Jean. 
“Heh, don’t worry, I’ll do the same to you. You deserve the same treatment, my love.”
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NAVIA
“Hey, why do I have to wear this?!”
Navia looked so annoyed. An angry pout on her usually friendly face, as it was rare for your girlfriend to ever get mad at you. “I just thought it’d look funny on you,” you giggled softly, covering your mouth to hide your grin. “Plus, sometimes you bite. Not very gently, either.”
“I do not!” Navia huffed and tried to get you to take it off, nuzzling her caged mouth against your cheek. “Take it off right now! I want to kiss you!” 
She growled softly and rutted her hips against your own, pinning you down with her body weight while making sure you could feel the small bulge growing underneath her skirt. She smirked when she saw you realize the stiffie, making sure to roll her hips a little more languidly in order for you to feel all of her arousal. “Come on baby…this isn’t fair to me…” Navia whispers, pouting down at you while her tail swishes rather intimidatingly. “Get the muzzle off…it’s too distracting as I can’t pleasure you properly. Please? Don’t you want me to fuck you full already…?” 
She smiled ever so innocently, never mind the fact that she had plans to completely wreck you in revenge for putting her in a muzzle in the first place! 
“Hmmmm…I don’t know if my puppy deserves to be off the muzzle tonight…” you teased, watching as your girlfriend’s face darkened and a small, irritated growl left her throat. “Perhaps she should prove to me she can control herself without restriction?” You playfully looped your finger through the loop of her collar, staring at the gold rose shaped emblem at the center and pulling her closer to face you. “My puppy has an uncontrollable biting problem after all. Bad girl.” 
Navia growled louder and her tail swished even faster, pushing your wrists above your head and lowering her caged mouth to your ears. 
“I’ll show you uncontrollable.” 
Your body involuntarily shivered at the hot breath let out from your girlfriend’s teeth. You knew Navia would never hurt you, she was always so sweet and gentle when it came to your sex life, yet it seems this time you pushed her buttons a little too far. “I’m going to take off your pants, okay? If I rip them, sorry in advance.”
Your cheeks burned red when she suddenly grabbed onto your bottoms and slid them off aggressively. It was clear that Navia was excited, the massive grin on her face proving so as she made quick work of discarding both of your undergarments. In an instant, you felt Navia’s hot, heavy cock land right on top of your aching clit. Her knot swelling at the base, ready to pump itself eagerly into you if you allowed her to. 
“Hah…muzzle or not, I think I’ve been too lenient on you. You think you can push me around, bratty girl? Hm?” Navia grinned and slowly grinded her member against your folds, chuckling at the way they seemed to glisten whenever she dragged herself a bit slower than usual. “Well, maybe it’s about time I stop pleasing my sweet owner…”
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BEIDOU
Beidou didn’t care if you muzzled her or not. She just wanted to fuck your brains out and have you a sobbing, moaning puddle under her while she railed you on her strap. Through heavy pants and labored grunts, your big, overgrown puppy woman held you down into a mating press and rammed the hefty strap on as far as she could go, growling whenever you whined and tugged on her leash, as she knew she was doing a great job.
“Like that huh? You like it when I stuff you full on this big, meaty dick?” Beidou laughed to herself at the vulgar language she just used, smothering her muzzled mouth against your neck and letting strings of saliva drip down from the caged bars. “You’re so hot…hah…so hot and tight.”
Her big, bushy tail swished from left to right as she buried her sheath deeper into your succulent, wet walls. She wanted so desperately to sink her awaiting canines into your throat and mark you jaw to collarbone in her marks, yet because of that stupid muzzle, she had to settle for drooling all over your neck through the bars of her cage. 
“I would’ve covered you in teeth marks by now…” Beidou growls, glaring down at you with wild, frenzied eyes, “But, maybe it’s for the best. Wouldn’t want to accidentally make you scream.” 
She thrusted her hips a bit sharper, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from your throat. 
“…Well, from pain.” 
Beidou chuckled and closed her eyes, lazily fucking you with greed as she wanted nothing more than to see the fake knot at the base of her strap, plug you all the way in when you eventually came. She shamelessly swiped her tongue across the metal bars of her muzzle, groaning at the metallic taste before nuzzling against your cheek. “So, princess, do you think you could take the muzzle off now?” She grinned, her tongue darting out to try and lick you through the gaps of her confines, “I’ve been such a good dog for you already…”
“You’ll…bite me all over…” you whispered breathlessly, whining when she gripped your hips tighter within her claws and thrusted her strap even rougher.
“I’d bite you eventually when this muzzle comes off…” Beidou groans, pushing the muzzle harder against your cheek as she rutted her strap at a much more feverish pace. “Though, the longer you keep this up, the more desperate I’ll be, baby…”
She gently pushed herself deeper into you, her tail beating faster against the bed when she saw the tiny tummy bulge pushing against your skin from how deep she was inside of you. “Archons, you’re so pretty…” she whispered out huskily, roaming her giant hands all around the skin of your stomach and pushing lightly on the bulge. “But, you’d definitely be even prettier once I get my canines all over you.”
It was there that Beidou finally used those giant claws of hers to disobey you, ripping the muzzle off with brute force and grinning down at you with wolfish features. The yelp you let out was adorable as Beidou suddenly pushed your legs up higher, pretty much folding you more in the mating press and moving her teeth dangerously close to your inner thighs. 
“It’s been looking a little too barren down here. Perhaps I should change that…”
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MIKO
Out of all the women to have been strapped with a muzzle, Miko was definitely the most furious. She had you bent over in front of her on the bed, doggy style as she pumped her angry red cock inside of you at a pace similar to that of when she was in a rut. The poor woman felt as if her ego had been shattered to pieces the moment you tricked her and got her to wear a muzzle. Now you are suffering the consequences of your actions, as Miko was not stopping her relentless pace and would growl in your ear whenever you tried to complain.
“M-Miko! Ah! S-Slow…down…” 
Your body moved pathetically with each harsh thrust, as Miko seemed to be trying to vent out her anger on you for making her wear such an embarrassing thing. “Cheeky brat…you really think this pathetic thing could stop me from biting you?” 
A low, husky growl emitted from her throat as she pushed her swollen member deeper into your cunt. “I could rip this muzzle off like paper. But…I’ll indulge in my little one’s silly little kinks for now.” She grinned maliciously and pushed you farther into the bed, rutting her hot and heavy cock deeper within you, as she was intent in possibly breeding you fully. 
“So tight…you like it when I go rough, hm? All muzzled and rabid like an animal?” She looked ticked off at her own words, her fox ears twitching in frenzy as she wanted to make you pay for teasing her. 
“N-No…that’s not what I meant— h-haah…” Miko grabbed your chin and forced you to look up at her, her sweet little pupils turning into slits as she took in how utterly delectable you looked underneath her. It was actually triggering her predator instincts to hold you down and claim you as her “prey.” 
“Liar. You’re such a cute little liar.” Miko grinned wolfishly through the bars of her muzzle and stuffed her knot deeper against your cunt. The base of it started to swell as she was getting ready to breed you full on her kitsune seed. “Look at you…barely able to talk even though I’m the one wearing this contraption,” she tsked and trailed one of her clawed fingers down your stomach, gently circling the growing bulge on your tummy that moved with each thrust of her dick. “Even when muzzled, you still act like a cute little bunny.” 
She licked her lips and felt the base of her knot begin to swell, her head throwing back in ecstasy as she prepared to fill you fully until her cum was leaking out of you. “Ah…you tightened a bit when I said that. You must really like being degraded, huh?” 
Miko growled and pushed her knot a bit deeper, forcing you to take a girthier bulb as she drooled a bit through the metal bars of her muzzle. 
“I can’t wait to devour this little bunny once I tear this muzzle off. Archons…that cute little pussy is mine.”
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russo-woso · 2 days
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hii i have an alessia russo request :)
basically reader is a huge fuckgirl and everyone knows this, then when she meets alessia after alessias transfer to arsenal they become really close and start sleeping together but r makes it clear it’s just casual, then lessi starts catching feelings for her and r is aware of it but she is kinda playing with alessias feelings and showing mixed signals, eventually lessi breaks down and starts yelling at r about how cruel she’s being by playing with her feelings, happy ending though please maybe there’s an explanation on why r was acting the way she was?
also please write it with a bottom!alessia :)
No strings || Alessia Russo x Bronze!reader
Warning smut 18+, ab riding, fingering, orgasm denial, bottom!alessia, top!reader
It’s a long one :)
Moving to Arsenal from Barcelona had been a hard move.
You knew it would be a hard move but you had prepared yourself for it.
The worst part of it all was the fact you were leaving your big sister, Lucy, behind.
Over the summer, you had been too focused on the World Cup to think about the dread of moving, but once you reached the airport, Lucy approached to say goodbye and that’s when it finally hit you.
You hated it.
You hated the fact you had to move.
But you had to. You had to leave.
You had to leave her.
Her being Jana Fernández.
You and Jana had been dating since you were both twenty and had dated for two years, however, when you were still madly in love with her, she came to you and said she had fallen out of love with you. She told you that you weren’t the one for her, and that killed you.
Once you’d broken up with Jana, it just became awkward and toxic to be around her.
Every training, you purposely avoided her but it became impossible to do that when you were always put at partners for training.
So you left.
You left everything behind so you could have a new beginning, and you wanted that.
You promised you wouldn’t fall in love again, not for a while at least, but that rule started to fade once you saw her, Alessia Russo.
Still being 22, you were playing with the under 23s, however, within the days prior to meeting her, you had received your call up for the World Cup.
Due to the fact you were only getting your call up then, you had never met Alessia but Lucy and Kiera had both told many stories with a certain blonde striker in them.
Alessia and you signed your contracts for Arsenal on the same day and the photographers suggested you take pictures together, which meant Arsenal got to show off their two new signings that could potentially be the future of English football.
It was only after the shoots that Alessia spoke to you.
“You’re Lucy’s sister aren’t you?” Alessia asked and you nodded in response, worried that you’d stutter if you opened your mouth. “You two look alike.” It was the truth. You and Lucy really did look alike. You both were tall, muscular, tattooed.
“Alessia, right?” You questioned, already knowing the answer and was confirmed when she nodded. “I’ve heard lots about you from Luce and Kiera. I’m guessing you’re the blonde striker that goes by Less in their stories.”
“They talk about me? What stories do they tell you?”
“There was this one story where you supposedly tripped over someone’s boot and face planted the floor.” You slightly giggled as Alessia’s face went a light shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’m clumsy too. Ask Luce. I’ve always been clumsy since I was a toddler. Running into stuff, tripping over things, everyone says they’re surprised I don’t trip over the ball when I play football.”
“No way, I get told that all the time.” You and Alessia laughed as the similarities you shared arose.
“Anyway, I best go, my plane back to Barca is in a few hours and you know what London traffic is like.” You joked and Alessia smiled. “See you in Australia?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you in Australia.” Alessia confirmed and with a small smile, you waved and left leaving a very confused Alessia.
Alessia had never come across a girl who made her feel the way you made her which racked her brain full of questions about you, and herself.
———————
“Luce, come on, I don’t like her. I can’t like her.” You complained as Lucy kept going on and on about you liking Alessia.
Once you’d gotten back from London, you told Lucy your encounter with Alessia and she had been teasing you for the past week.
You were currently on the way to London to meet up with the team before making your way to Australia for the World Cup.
“Yeah, but you do deep down, don’t you?” Lucy asked, desperate to get the truth from you.
“Kiera, please tell her to stop.” You begged, for the fourth time, as Kiera looked, unimpressed, at the both of you.
“Lucy, stop it.” Was all Kiera said and it was your turn to look unimpressed at her.
“Look, Luce, I get it. You’re my older sister, you want to know who I like, but I can’t like Alessia. Not after Jana.” You explained and Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. “And anyway, Alessia doesn’t even like girls.”
“Listen, kid, as your older sister, it’s not just my job to know who you like, but it’s also my job to make sure you’re happy, and if I think you’d be happy with Alessia, I say to shoot your shot.” Lucy told you and you nodded along, pretending to listen to her when actually you were blocking her voice out because you knew you wouldn’t do what she was saying.
Once Lucy had finished talking, she pressed resume on her laptop and went back to watching her film which you were grateful for because it meant that you didn’t have to continue the conversation.
———————
“Y/N, hi.” You heard a voice say before a pair of arms wrapped around you.
“Hi Alessia.” You said, taken aback at how sudden the action was.
“How are you? How was your flight from Barcelona?” Alessia questioned, you figured to try make conversation.
“It was good. A bit of turbulence and Lucy being annoying, but other than that, fine.” You replied, grabbing your suitcase before starting to walk away, hoping to end the conversation with your action but nope, Alessia grabbed hers too, walking side by side with you.
“Oh, why was Lucy being annoying?” Alessia asked and you mentally screamed.
As much as you wanted to speak to Alessia, like you really really wanted to, you couldn’t.
Could you?
“Just being herself, you know?” You lied, definitely not being able to tell Alessia the truth.
“Y/N!” You hear Georgia shout from across the terminal and you let out a small thankful sigh, not loud enough for Alessia to pick up on it though.
“I’ll see you on the plane, okay? Bye less.” You smiled at her, before walking to Georgia who enveloped you in a hug.
——————
To say you had had the best weeks of your life was an understatement.
Smashing through the group stages and winning against Nigeria, the whole team had an excited buzz around them.
The only thing that could make the summer even better, was if you could just admit your feelings to Alessia.
Over the past weeks, you and her had grown closer and closer, and you were definite that feelings were there for her but you pushed them away, also definite that your feelings were wrong.
To celebrate the win against Colombia, the whole team decided to go out after the match.
It had started with you saying you weren’t drinking much, but with constant nagging from Lucy, Mary, and a few other girls to drink, you figured you might as well.
You deserved to and it also meant you could get them off your back.
Once you had your first drink, you expected to feel a bit tipsy and then that would have been time to head home.
However, what you didn’t expect to happen, was to be drunkenly taking Alessia back to your room.
Whilst at the bar, flirty and needy touches from both, you and Alessia, had occurred and you took Alessia’s hand in yours, leading her outside before planting your lips on hers.
“Stay in my room tonight.” You whispered in her ear, breaking your lips from her jaw.
Alessia nodded almost immediately, moving to look you in your eyes before pressing her lips on yours.
From that moment, you booked a taxi and eventually ended back at the hotel, you and Alessia the only ones there.
You led Alessia upstairs, not letting your lips off her.
As you entered the room, you pinned Alessia against the wall, moving your lips down her neck whilst her hands tangled themselves in your hair.
A small sigh escaped Alessia’s mouth, her grip in your hair tightening as you continued to attack the sweet spot on her neck.
“Fuck” she murmured, whilst you licked the sensitive, fast growing mark on her neck.
You grabbed ahold of the bottom of her shirt, pulling it quickly over her head, before reconnecting your lips with her body.
This time, instead of moving to her neck, you pressed your lips to her collarbone and down to her chest, just above where her bra sat.
“Move to the bed?” You questioned, pulling away from her body.
“Please.” She whined as you grabbed the back of thighs, lifting her up, effortlessly, and carrying her to the bed.
You placed her down in the centre of the bed before climbing above her.
“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” You whispered in her ear whilst reaching beneath her to unclip her bra.
“Take this off.” Alessia told you, playing with the hem of your shirt.
You sat up, nearly ripping the shirt off you, your abs flexing at the cool air.
You watched as Alessia’s eyes trailed down your body to your abs, her eyes growing when she landed on them.
You smirked lightly before grabbing the top of her trousers, pulling down swiftly along with her underwear.
“Please hurry up.” Alessia mumbled, your mouth quickly attaching itself to her right nipple.
“Patience, pretty girl.” You told her, your voice husky which clearly affected Alessia because the moan she let out was almost pornographic.
Your tongue swirled around her nipple, your teeth often biting down gently to give her even more pleasure.
“Please, Y/N.” Alessia begged, and you lifted your head to look at her.
Her eyes were screwed shut, her head against the bed.
You locked eyes with hers once they opened, the blue that you’d fallen in love with was the only thing you could focus on.
“Are you sure you want this?” You asked, needing the confirmation before continuing.
“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time.” She revealed and you lowered yourself so you were in line with her pussy.
Planting teasing kisses to her inner thighs, you eventually thought it was time and connected your mouth with her mouth.
Alessia sucked a breath in as you made contact with her.
The whole experience was intoxicating for you.
The taste of her was intoxicating.
The smell of her was intoxicating, the perfume she wore was all you could smell.
Her laugh was intoxicating.
“You taste so good.” You moaned shamelessly into her pussy which made her buck her hips into your face.
You grabbed ahold of her thighs, keeping them in place whilst you continued to eat her out.
Your tongue took turns between going to her core and to her clit.
“I’m so close.” Alessia breathed out, her breath uneven and ragged.
You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Alessia’s body, moving her closer and closer to the edge.
The sounds escaping Alessia’s mouth made you feel like you were in heaven.
You felt Alessia’s pussy begin to clench so with a final lick you pulled away, leaving a very confused and angry Alessia.
“What? I was so close.” Alessia whined, out of breath.
“I know, pretty girl, but you’re gonna cum. I promise.”
You wiped your mouth, due to it being covered in Alessia’s juices, before leaning down to kiss her.
She moaned into the kiss due to her tasting herself.
As you deepened the kiss, you felt Alessia’s hand work its way to your abs, slowly tracing her fingers over them.
You smirked into the kiss, knowing how much she loved them.
“‘m gonna flip you, okay?” You stated and switched your positions so now, head was against the headboard and Alessia straddled your hips, more so your torso.
She bucked her hips at the contact with your abs.
You grabbed ahold of her hips, slowly guiding her up and down your abs.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” You praised her as she started to pick up the pace of her hips.
Moans escaped Alessia’s mouth and she increased her speed.
With the sensitivity from the denied orgasm, you figured Alessia would cum quickly and as you expected, she did.
It didn’t take long for her to mumble that she was close.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god — ‘m gonna cum.” Alessia nearly screamed, and at that point, you flipped her again so she was beneath you and you slipped your fingers into her.
You continuously pumped in and out of her, to push her over the edge.
Curling your fingers to a particular spot, she moaned for the final time and her legs spasmed around your arm.
“God, I love you so much. I’ve loved you for ages, Y/N. I’ve wanted your lips on mine for months.” Alessia revealed and your face turned white.
You were speechless.
You didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was just post orgasm talk. Or maybe it was the truth.
“And I’m not just saying that because you just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I really do like you, Y/N.” Alessia admitted.
Bingo. There was your answer.
Thoughts swirled through your head.
You liked her back. You know you do. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.
“I’m gonna get a clean cloth and I’ll help you clean up.” You told her, desperately trying to change the topic.
“Oh, okay.” Alessia said, the sparkle in her eyes disappearing which killed you to think that you were the reason for the action.
You promised yourself from that moment that you wouldn’t sleep with anyone, especially Alessia, until you were ready for an actual relationship.
Seeing Alessia hurt and confused killed you, and you didn’t want to experience that again.
You broke that promise though.
Following the win against Australia, the girls went drinking and Alessia ended up in your bed again.
It wasn’t planned and you didn’t intend for her to end there.
But similarly, you left her confused and hurt when you came up with an excuse for her to go.
You hated it.
You hated yourself for making her go through torture.
But most of all, you hated yourself for giving her mixed signals.
You ignore her when you walk past her, but then sleep with her.
You pretend like you don’t know her, but then sprint to her when she scores.
You show her that you don’t like her, but then show her that you love her.
You figured Alessia would snap at you at some point.
What you didn’t expect, was for her to snap at you at the worst time possible.
After the final and the loss to Spain, the team went out for a final time, hoping the drink would take away their emotions.
The night consisted of alcohol, dancing and jealousy.
The jealousy part in all the girls who were jealous of Spain for taking the win, but for you, it was a different type of jealousy.
Throughout the night, a bloke had made his way to Alessia, a flirty smirk resting on his face.
You saw Alessia smile back and within the space of a few hours, they’d gone from talking, to his hands resting on her hips as they danced.
You hadn’t realised just how jealous you were until Mary pointed it out.
“Mini Bronze, what’s with the frown and the red face? Angry are we?” Millie teased and the rest of the team agreed.
Instead of responding, you got out of your seat, stomping over to Alessia and the guy before pushing him away from Alessia.
“Get away from her.” You almost shouted as he pushed back.
“Why?” He snarled, harshly pushing you again. “Are you her girlfriend?”
“What if I was? Have a problem with that?” You squared up to him before he threw a punch.
You eyed him down, throwing a harder punch back.
You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and Lucy telling you to stop.
She separated you and the bloke before telling him to get out.
“What’s your problem?” You heard Alessia shout at you.
It took you, and the rest of the team, by shock at her shouting because she never raised her voice.
“You give me signs that you like me and then you ignore me! You fucking sleep with me, but then walk straight past me the next day. I like you Y/N! Why can’t you just tell me if you like me back? I just want an answer!” Alessia continued to shout.
You watched everyone’s jaws drop at the sudden reveal.
“I do. I do like you Alessia. I’ve liked you since Lucy and Kiera would come home talking about this climbs blonde striker. But I can’t love you. I can’t.” Your voice broke as you said the final sentence.
“Why? Why can’t you love me?”
“Because…” You were about to explain but remembered all the people who had surrounded you, including your big sister and all your teammates. “Can we go outside?”
Alessia nodded, and you both walked out the door and into the darkness that surrounded the bar.
“Why can’t you love me, Y/N, because I need to know. I need to know if you love me or not. Because I’m wasting my life waiting for you when potentially, you don’t even like me back.”
“I can’t love you because I loved Jana and she left me. I loved her and she said randomly one day that she didn’t love me anymore. I don’t want that to happen to us, because I love you too much Alessia. I think I loved you before I even met you. I don’t want to lose you and if that means staying friends, then so it stays.” You explained, Alessia’s face changing from anger to sympathy. “I wish I could love you Alessia, I really want to. But I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”
“I don’t care if I get hurt, Y/N. And I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d rather quit football than hurt you. I’d give up football in a heartbeat for you, and that’s telling you something. Please, let me love you.” Alessia said, inching closer and closer until she stated the last sentence against your lips.
“I’ll never stop loving you.” You whispered against hers before connecting them.
This time, the kiss was slow and full of love.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Less. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to confuse you.” You rambled as you pulled away from the kiss.
“It’s okay. I understand, I promise you, I understand. That’s in the past now.”
Alessia was true.
Jana and that experience was your past, Alessia was now your future.
419 notes · View notes
teeskzagain · 2 days
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Anonymous asked:
so i’ve been thinking about how people think san’s a bit scary and intimidating while he’s an absolute sweetheart on the inside. imagine dating him and everyone around you being a bit intimidated by him, thinking he’s a rough guy and even being slightly worried…
what they don’t know is that you have him wrapped around your finger, that he’d worship the floor you walk on and that he’d simply do everything just to see you smile.
i wonder how this would translate into situations in the bedroom 🙂‍↔️
also!! i hope you get account back soon 💗
no because let’s talk about it!! the duality of choi san is actually INSANE (like his twink era??) mans could go from radiating dom energy out in public but once those doors close??? oh he would be ON HIS KNEES FOR YOU 🙌 whew, i’m in lofe with this scenario
and thank you for that, you’re too sweet🤍
wc: 3k
warnings: face riding, neck kissing, praises, dry humping (san cumming in his underwear) a shit ton of dirty talk, use of nicknames: baby, sweetie, sannie, 18+ MDNI
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starting now, you make the executive decision that absolutely no one is meant to truly understand the relationship between you and your boyfriend, choi san. this is proven true at the formal get together you and him were currently attending, with your two friends making him a topic of conversation on numerous occasions.
like, at this moment.
“just look at him,” yena gawks from across the room, cup swirling in her hand, “i don’t know how you even had the balls to go up to him…”
“let alone date him.” suiji finishes as she eyes your boyfriend up and down. he’s currently standing stoically in the corner, chatting up the birthday boy, kang yeosang. your lips curl fondly at the interaction, knowing well just how excited san was about seeing yeosang this evening.
you allow their little comments to resonate in the air before giving your two friends a look and then a soft laugh, “how come you guys say this every time we go out?”
“because it’s still insane!” yena throws an arm out as if to prove her disbelief, “how can you not just shrink under his gaze?”
suiji does a dramatic shudder at the remnants of his presence, “i’m serious y/n, he’s so scary looking.”
“there’s no problems with the relationship, right? anything i need to know? are you feeling safe?” yena’s rapid fire of questions and sudden concern makes you want to roll your eyes straight out of their sockets.
it’s been four months of dating san at this point, and one would have thought that the acceptance stage surely should’ve passed by now. however, for some reason, these two just can’t fathom the idea that choi san is ‘datable’. actually. it’s not just them, but the general public appears to fear san like some sort of bad omen. from the barista at your local coffee shop, to your favorite cashier at the grocery store; somehow, this negative stigma seemed to have developed around your poor, clueless boyfriend.
they should all be ashamed of themselves, you think with a frown, almost about ready to scold the girls when the tall, broad man himself waltzes straight into your circle. the way yena and suiji immediately clasps their lips shut at his entrance, you want to laugh, but quickly are captivated by your boyfriend who’s stopping right in front of you.
“baby…” his voice starts off somber and low, and he regards you with an expression that’s seemingly all too familiar, “it’s time to go.”
hmm? instinctively, your head tilts slightly as you sport confusion, “already? but, weren’t you just talking with-”
“y/n. let’s go.” he’s firmer in his tone, a hard face planted on. you blink before giving him an understanding head nod. you understood quite well what his authoritative stature indicated, essentially making it pointless to argue back with him.
when san whips around towards the girls, ready to begin your goodbyes, they seemed to have crowded together out of fright. the slender, narrow eyes that have proven to instill fear glower onto yena and suiji and you’re almost positive you see one of them trembling. oh, please.
“i’m sorry to cut the pleasantries so short, but it’s getting late for us. we’ll see you around though?” he quips off the question with an eyebrow raise, and by now you’ve huddled closer to him.
yena could only stumble out, “y-yeah, see ya later.” while suiji waved him away frantically, both trying their damndest to avoid eye contact with him.
he takes off while you offer your own smile and a curt wave. and even as you happily catch up behind the brooding man, your two friends are still left puzzled as to what exactly it is you see in him. both you and san make a few more rounds of goodbyes, some of the guests sharing their own inquisitive gaze at the impassive male in comparison to your gleeful smile. but neither of you paid attention to that.
no, the only thing present in the two of you’s minds was the anticipation of what was going to happen later tonight. like for when you step foot into your apartment approximately 10 minutes later, his eyes glossy as they tediously watch you, with yours trailing the outline of his delicious outfit.
the car ride over had been filled to the brim with unspoken thoughts, asses shifting and squirming in their seats, and a swirl of low breaths emitted by you two. san’s never been one to demand control over the relationship, him hardly every seeing the need to command anything out of you. he’s always been perfectly contempt with you taking the reigns while he sits back and enjoys.
and you were well aware of that.
but in a moment like that, a circumstance where his head became heavily engrossed with conceptions of you, well, he couldn’t help if a more stern tone slipped out of him. he just had to get you to recognize what it was he was yearning for. what it is he needs from you.
“sannie..” your head’s tilted down so you can peer up at him through your eyelashes, making a slow trek towards him as he stood idly in the living room, “are you in a mood?”
in a matter of seconds, you can physically see the changes your boyfriend has. his usual, cold face soon melting into an intense cry of plea. of course you knew the answer. you can read him like book by now.
you stop in front of his body, a hand pressing into his chest while the other raises to graze the side of his face, “oh, you poor thing. i know it must’ve been difficult at the party for you.”
as if you’re a magnet, once you let up on san, your hand dropping to his arm, his head shoots down into the exposed part of your neck. he’s feverish in the way he immediately starts to kiss on your skin, with in between pecks he starts to speak.
“fu-uck…,” he lands a rather large kiss smack dab in the middle of your throat which leads you to buzz out a soft whimper, “i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
he travels around your sternum, making sure to mark up any unclaimed spots, “couldn’t stop picturing you…” he nips at your skin this time, “us getting home tonight and me making you cum so fucking hard.”
your eyes are fluttering from a combo of both his words and his lips, your hands moving on their own to explore the brawniness that is choi san, “yeah…is that right?”
he lets out a strained groan as he begins to work his way down to your cleavage, “ah- my cock’s throbbing so bad right now.” the words topple from his lips an octave higher than you’re used to, and it’s clear just how turned on he is. which in turn makes your own panties dampen at the realization.
“sannie…” you gasp, feeling his mouth trailing down the fabric of your dress with some of his spit sopping through, “you know- you have to please me first. me first, then i’ll take of you, sweetie.”
he’s on his knees for you by now, staring up at you with the biggest doe eyes you’ve ever seen on a man. your head droops to meet his gaze right as his hands grip the hem of your dress. he lifts it up past your hips, revealing your cotton underwear which sports a wet spot clear as day.
“i know. i know, baby. i’m gonna make you feel so good. don’t you worry.” he ducks his head in between your thighs in preparation for licking your pussy through the soft material, a motion he does in a clean swoop. it only amplifies the extreme sensation you’re experiencing, “you won’t have a single thought in your head when i’m done.”
your body stirrers at the contact, “oh! oh my god.”
san is absolutely in love with your reactions, watching and hearing how horny you are because of him. it fuels him. he repeats his licking action, this time stopping at the top of your cunt to suck on your sensitive bud. you register his saliva permeating through your underwear, a squelching sound now filling the air, and your face contorts.
“mmm, sannie i’m gonna ride your face,” your eyes are crinkled, no longer able to hold his eye contact, as involuntarily your hips buck against his head, “fuck. just wanna grind my pussy deep into your perfect face.”
he squeezes his lips around your skin. it doesn’t even matter to him how your harsh rocks causes his face to rock along side with you. he’s ravenous. hungry for you. eating you out like he’s been deprived of your sweet cunt for days.
after low rumble, san guides a hand to your clothed sex and pushes away the fabric. swirling, lapping, fiending into your naked core, you’re hit with double the intensity than you had previously, and you nearly squeal. he circles his head all around your thick pussy, wanting to bury his face deeper into your skin, which makes your eyes roll back.
the direct stimulant makes you see stars, him taking in pieces of you within his mouth and supplying a great deal of pleasure to those areas. your own moans fight for dominance while san’s squishy munching competes for which noise is the loudest, yours gradually getting louder and higher the more he devours you.
“i feel close,” it comes out more breathlike as you interlock your fingers into his hair for balance, “fuck- fuck- i think i’m gonna cum soon.”
with that, san offers no mercy. he wants to see you cum, needs to feel your orgasm hit his face. he quickens his pace with his wet tongue, before moving into more swift and timely sucks. the mixture of stimulants has your eyelids glazing, and it doesn’t help how occasionally san would mewl straight into you. he finds this so incredibly arousing.
you dig your hips further into his nose, you full on grinding against him by now, and you can’t even think straight. everything is pushing you closer and closer and closer-
“shit! i’m cumming! i’m cumming!” when your boyfriend nicks that spot, that spot with his driven hunger solely focused on it, your orgasm rushes through your body and out of your cunt, you yelping aloud in the process. it spritzes and coats san in a spit/cum mix, his face becoming sickly wet as you draw out your blissful high.
not once does he move to detach himself. he eats you out all during the duration of your orgasm, and when you finally have the strength to look at san again, you see his large, puppy-esque eyes just entranced with you. he watched you cum all over his face, just like he wished to before.
at the end of it, your chest heaves up and down as you attempt a small smile for him. aside from the minor spasms, you had gained some sense of awareness again.
“i’m so proud of you. you made me feel good, just like you promised.” you speak with nothing but gratitude, your hand easing up the grip in san’s hair as you transfer it into a light stroke, “you ready to be taken care of now?”
he parts your cunt with spit strings attached, his lips and face utterly covered in your moisture. he looks about ready to combust on himself, the way his eyes are hazy and low, his breathing irregular, “i’m ready. need a release so bad, i can’t take it anymore.”
sweetly, you reach down to help him up, “i hear you. come on, let’s go to the room.”
you lead the way as he follows you back into the bedroom, you instantly ordering him to strip from his pants once inside, “since you did a such a great job, i wanna treat you to something.”
a look of relief washes over san’s face. while still in his underwear, you direct him towards the head of the bed frame as you hook your fingers on the band of your panties to slide them down and off your legs. you meet him on to the bed, and right off of the bat, you can see a noticeably large bulge, poking out the material of his dark blue briefs.
if someone were to mistaken the expanding wet spot as san just having came on himself, you wouldn’t be surprised. but your boyfriend produces large amounts of arousal on the regular, so this is nothing new for you. if anything, you can start to feel yourself get horny all over again.
when directly in front of him, you bring one knee over so you’re straddling him, your pelvis just barely hovering over his lap, “just sit back for me, okay?” you eye him sincerely, “im gonna take care of you.”
right as you start to lower yourself on to his covered length, a sharp inhale from san has you pausing briefly, “baby, i don’t know how long i’ll be able to last. feel like i’m gonna explode any second.”
with a tiny laugh, you continue downwards till you make contact with your core and his cock, “it’s okay. don’t want you holding back either, i want you to enjoy this.”
and just like that, you allow your cunt to spread flatly against his erection, then ever-so leisurely, you start to roll your hips. you purposely begin with a slow pace, wanting to build up the intensity as time progressed, and judging by the facial expressions he wears, this seems to do the trick for him as well. even through the sensitivity, you push through.
“i knew you’d like me rubbing myself against you,” your hand clashes with the headboard as you steady yourself, digging your core deeper into the hard surface, “you liked it when i grinded on your face, i just had to give your poor cock the same treatment.”
inaudible moans fall from san’s throat, him now throwing his head back on the board, “sh-shit. it feels so nice, too nice.”
“i can feel you twitching below me,” you hip, your eyes becoming more hooded by the second, “are you really that close to finishing?”
“nrgh- yes.” he groans and you can see his stomach begin to convulse, his panting growing more prominent within your ear.
at this prospect, you dish out a hushed mew yourself, fastening the thrusts into his own clothed sex. your pussy acts as a stimulant for san, sending blips of pleasure through his aching dick the more you continue your rubbing.
you make sure to work every section of his length, running and dragging your glistening pussy lips against his wet fabric. you’ve suctioned yourself so far into him, that right now, you can distinguish which is his base and which is the head of cock. your cunt does a slightly bump whenever you find yourself running against the tip.
it’s euphoric the pleasure he’s having right now. never having been this turned on before, he basks in the feeling brought upon by you. how you know just when to squeeze the right amount of pressure onto him, or when to simply grind faster and harder on to the cock that won’t make it for much longer.
leading you to a point of where you’re full blown humping san into oblivion. the creaky noises of the bed acts as evidence of your hard work, along with the not-so-subtle whimpers that he buzzes out every chance he gets. he’s lost in heaven.
“you’re gonna make me cum on myself,” he follows that up with a louder groan, “fucking- i’m so close to cumming, ’m so close.” he even tries to match your rhythm but even that prove to be difficult with just how mindless you’re about to leave him.
“let it all out, sannie. come on, i know you’re almost there.” you reply back with an equal amount of desperation in your voice.
a string of ‘please’ leaves his mouth, his eyebrows scrunched inward with his troubled face. he’s so far gone, he isn’t sure that he’ll even survive the orgasm he’s about to have. when you buck particularly hard into his sensitive head, a wave of pleasure hits him and his cock relinquishes his stored up cum.
“hmm, y/n- i’m cumming!” a guttural moan overtakes the room as san releases all over himself, and you, his underwear now soiled to a point of no return. his cum leaks through and even form to mix with your previous liquids. it awakens something within you and soon the feeling of his orgasm is causing a surprise one for yourself, your eyes vibrating and a whiny shriek spilling out.
you quiver harshly on top of your boyfriend as his body twitches sporadically, the two of you somewhat finishing in sync. a few spurts of of your juices seep down into his briefs, vice versa for you, and then next thing you know you’re both catching your breaths after the intense session.
“you’re so fucking hot.” he murmurs, eyes dazed and throat bobbing, “left me soaking in my underwear.”
“i love you,” you whisper back as your bring your forehead to his, still relishing from your second orgasm tonight, “you’re so good for me.”
“i love you too, baby.”
see, many question what it is about your boyfriend that you love so much. in their eyes, he’s nothing more than a fearsome man, threatening the innocence of a poor, girl like you.
but if there’s one thing you could never deny, was that your (in reality) sweet, puppy of a boyfriend knows just how to give you the actual best orgasms of your life. and luckily for him, you know how to give it right back to him.
your guys’ relationship is perfect as is. regardless if others can fully comprehend it or not.
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gay-dorito-dust · 1 day
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May I please request any comfort fluff with Jiyan from Wuthering Waves if you're open to those requests?🙏😔 I need bro to comfort me
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‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m sorry?’ You asked, looking up to see Jiyan stood over your seated form with conceding lacing his golden eyes.
‘Are you okay?’ He repeated, sitting down next to you, ‘you’ve been acting differently as of late and I feel as though there’s more to it than just a shift in personality.’
You chuckled humourlessly, the jig was up and you knew it but were too stubborn to accept help from anyone, especially from one who had more important matters at hand than your slight decline in mental health. ‘It’s nothing, honestly, I’m just a little-‘
‘Tired?’ Jiyan cuts you off and suddenly your throat felt drier than a desert and he must’ve known that he caught you in your one lie as he levels you with a stare, leaning slightly towards you. ‘How often have you used being tired as an excuse because people in your past have proven themselves ill equip with handling a difficult situation, despite saying false promises of being there for when life gets hard.’
‘Way too fucking often.’ You replied. ‘It’s like they were only in my life to take something from me, why? I’ll never know because they’re all gone and fucked off, like they didn’t just tore my souls to shreds snd left me to pick up the pieces.’ You concluded and it wasn’t until then did you realise that you had started to cry when Jiyan wordlessly wiped one away with his thumb.
You had let your guard slip, the one thing you’ve promised yourself to never do again in the presence of another person due to how they made it all about them; not to mention how they gone on about how suddenly they couldn’t handle your baggage before ghosting you completely whenever you tried to reach out to them again. You didn’t deserve that type of treatment and you know it, but you’ve less yourself to believe that their reaction will be how others would perceive your situation, and so you never bothered reaching out for help and instead letting it bottle up inside until you cracked.
‘I’m sorry.’ You gasped as you began to violently wipe away at your eyes when Jiyan held your wrists in his hand and brought them away from your face.
‘Don’t apologise,’ he started, ‘never apologise for your own emotions nor the people who’ve made you believe that others would turn a blind eye to your plan, for that is simply not true, but I understand that this is a hard mentality for one to unlearn after so long.’ Jiyan wasn’t well versed in comforting others, seeing as how he spent most of his life in the frontlines of the battlefield as both a medic and general, but that didn’t stop him from recognising that a misdeed had been committed against you and that he wouldn’t allow; So for you, jiyan would try his best to provide comfort that you needed.
‘Oh yeah? And who’s going to change that then you?’ You scoffed.
‘Yes.’ Jiyan answered without hesitation and a seriousness you’ve only ever seen in battle and that alone had you choke on your own words.
‘Why?’ You asked, looking into his eyes in hopes of getting the answer you wanted, you wanted to look for a lie within his eyes but his eyes only told you that he was being genuine with his words.
‘I want to prove that if there is one person who’s willing to shoulder your burdens with you, it’s me.’ He tells you. ‘I will not allow you to suffer alone during you’re in pain. So please, allow me to lend you aid in these difficult times.’
You stayed silent for a bit and Jiyan thought that he may have overstepped a boundary or two but his own worries were put to rest when you gripped onto his hand just as he was about to pull away. ‘If it’s not too much trouble for you.’
‘I wouldn’t have suggested such if it was, which it isn’t.’ Jiyan cuts you off softly.
‘Then I guess it couldn’t hurt.’ You said, slowly beginning to grow hope for this seemingly small promise.
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solarsol · 20 hours
Text
Midnight flame 🔥
Pairing: Noa x Mae
Warning: 18+ Noa x Mae. Read at the risk of being blessed :) Mature themes.
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It was late in the night, Mae lying down in her make shift bed in the cave, old heavy cloths wrapped around her for extra warmth. She couldn’t sleep, she has too much on her mind. She’s been traveling with Noa and Raka for a few days. It’s confusing, they seem like good…people. Except they aren’t people, they’re apes. Mae has to keep reminding herself no matter how good they’ve been to her, they are still apes.
She lies there seemingly forever before deciding to sit up and sit closer to the fire that’s still lit. She wraps the blue blanket noa handed her earlier around her shoulders, a slight breeze in the air making her shiver.
Mae can’t help but think about her rescue earlier in the field, she was so close to being snatched up by Proximus Caesar’s apes. She didn’t want to reveal herself to Noa yet, but she had no choice. Calling his name saved her, there was no point in hiding her voice any longer. Noa still can’t know what she intends to do when they reach their destination. She doesn’t want to hurt Noa or Raka….but she has to stop proximus.
Her heart aches thinking about her old human companions the apes killed. She hasn’t been around humans for what seemed like forever. Anger filled her heart thinking about what the apes have taken from her…from humanity. She takes in a shaky breath, no matter what, she has to get to the vault. As long as she’s alive, she’ll fight tooth and nail to keep the human fight alive!
Mae is so deep in thought she doesn’t even notice Noa walk up and come sit next to her.
“Nova…I mean Mae, why awake?” Noa innocently asked
Mae’s eyes shoot up, met by Noas. For a moment she’s lost in those green eyes. So human it scares her
“I couldn’t sleep, don’t worry about it. You should be asleep yourself.” Looking back at the fire, Mae avoids his eyes. Her heart starts beating faster, she begins to hope that Noa will leave her alone.
“Keeping watch. Keeping us safe” Noa boasts proudly. He may be new to this whole protecting thing, but he takes it seriously. He has to lead his apes when the time comes, he has to be strong now.
Maes eyes briefly look back at Noa, once again holding each other’s gaze. The way his emerald eyes lite up by the flames of the campfire keeps her attention. She wants to look away but he continues to hold eye contact. It’s like he doesn’t realize how awkward he’s making her feel right now.
Noa reaches his hand out slowly, reaching for Mae’s. She doesn’t stop him, but is confused why he is once again in her personal space. Earlier was different, she held on to him to escape, but now he is once again touching her, in such a gentle way. His fingers brushing against her skin makes goosebumps form on her arm. She doesn’t know why she feels so awkward about this, it’s not like apes don’t touch each other all the time, it’s normal to be in each other’s space. So why does her breath hitch slightly?
“What’s the matter?” Noa asked puzzled. He has no idea what is going on with her. At first he thought she was just an annoying pest that kept stealing from his village. However, the more he is around her, the more he is shocked that she acts like an ape.
He now knows she can even speak. He thought echos were silent. Yet, she has barely told him anything else about herself besides her real name, Mae. He rolls his eyes at the thought. She annoys him, but he can’t help but be curious of this echo. Raka told him apes and humans lived side by side, this is how things used to be. Raka is a bit eccentric, but Noa trusts he has the best intentions, so he wants to try and give her a chance.
“Why so silent?” Noa once again locks eyes with Mae, still unaware of how he’s confusing her.
In the darkness of night, his eyes look more and more human to her. “Im trying to clear my head, which is hard to do with you here so maybe you should go back to sleep” Mae fumed.
Why doesn’t Noa get the hint, she’s done talking for the night, she’s already let him know too much. She needs to regroup and think of what to do when they get to the vault. She moves slightly away from Noa hoping he’ll get the hint. Things were easier when he didn’t know she could talk.
Noas hand once again reaches out for Mae, but instead of brushing against her hand it brushes against her thigh. Mae instantly looked back at Noa
“Noa…” Mae whispered. She was stunned by his actions, she shivered immediately when his finger brushed against her clothed skin. She hadn’t had contact with another human in so long, she must be losing it. Because right now, Noas hand felt very much human. She felt a heat rising around her, and not just from the fire
“You can trust us, trust me Mae” Noa beamed. In the darkness of night, surrounded by flames, he felt his annoyance start to fade away for this echo. He notices Mae shivering, “Still cold? Can I help” he asked innocently.
Mae must be really tired to be feeling this way. She shouldn’t be affected by an Ape of all things, but in this moment she’s too focused on Noa. How his fingers feel just like a human man. Noa is different than the other apes.
“You don’t have to keep helping me Noa, you’re acting like your my Prince Charming or something” she snidely said. Even though if she admitted it to herself, Noa has been somewhat of her savior the last couple days.
“What’s, Prince Charming?” Noa questioned
“Just…the type of guy who wants to be the hero and save the girl, and I’m not one to need saving”
“You need me to save today!” Noa insisted. This Mae…why is she so stubborn? Do all smart echos act this way? She was clearly no match in strength compared to his fellow ape, but for an echo she is a strong one. She runs fast, for someone with such slender legs. He looks down at her thigh again, hand still next to her. He slowly reaches out again fingers spreading out across her thigh. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him with an expression he hasn’t seen before.
“Noa…I should go back to sleep”
“Mae, you smell better now…sweeter.” Noa feels himself being drawn to her. He’s long forgotten about her lying to him about being able to speak.
He’s a young ape, he’s never experienced anything like this before, but he’s not completely clueless. He’s noticed how Mae has reacted to his touch. He smells the arousal in the air. He’s not concerned about the semantics of it, human with ape, right now he’s just distracted completely by Mae. It seems like there is no space between them in the cave anymore, the fire raging on.
“Noa, what are you doing” Mae just looks at him incredulously. She thinks to herself how she has felt some attraction to Noa over the past few days, she chalks it up to being without human contact for so long. For an ape, he seems incredibly human sometimes, it scares her, but in this moment it’s turning her on. She feels on fire and not from the heat of the campfire.
“I don’t know…” Noa whispered as his hand further goes up her upper thigh, resting at the top of her thighs, watching her body react before he has even started anything. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”
Mae couldn’t take it anymore. She figures in the grand scheme of things, no one would ever know right? In this moment, she gives up her plan, focuses solely on the present. “Noa…do you know how a human male…is intimate with a woman?” She continues to look at him with an expression he’s never seen before, an expression thats starting to set his body on fire.
“No, don’t know…” Noa whispered shyly
“Well…I guess I have something’s to teach you tonight” Mae said giving in to the desire she feels for Noa. She lightly puts her hand over his in her lap “Noa” she whimpered…
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To be continued…? ✨✨✨
Welp…that’s all for now 😳. Maybe I’ll continue, this is literally my first time writing a fic, so please excuse my writing skills haha but I wanted to bless our minds with Noa and Mae. I know a lot of us think Mae would make the first move and Noa is an innocent boy, which to an extent yes. But I also see him as wanting to take on a challenge and being open to new things, wanting to prove to Mae that humans aren’t better than apes. Id love to learn that lesson myself but hey this is about Mae 😂 alright lemme stop for today, hope you all enjoyed.
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writerpetals · 2 days
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let him hear | 🔞
; optional male lead smut |  ☁️
w; semi-voyeur, semi-exhibitionist, "sleeping" roommate (have two male oc's in mind for this one lol)
The moment his hand begins toying with the hem of your shirt, you know you’re in trouble. Staying the night at his dorm seemed like a good idea. After all, neither of you are like the majority of college kids that want to go out on Friday nights to party, guessing a night in with a movie is better than that any day and only wanting peace and quiet after a week of exams.
However, as you lay in his bed with him next to you and his roommate just a few feet away, his fingers dip dangerously low and you need to bite your lip to keep from whimpering.
You warn him with a simple call of his name through clenched teeth. Your head rests on his shoulder with his opposite arm snug behind you, yet the position calls for no room to move away from him. Not that you would want to any other time, but with someone else in the room making your heart race at the thought of being caught, you can hardly focus. “What about your roommate?”
“He’s drunk and asleep,” he assures you, which you can believe after watching him stumble through the door and crash on his bed without saying so much as a hello. Still, you don’t want to risk it, even if his lingering fingers make it hard to say no. “Just relax,” he tells you, lips pressing to your temple to rid you of the  worries.
As soon as his hand dips between your thighs, caring seems out of the question. His fingers graze your slit, happy enough you decided to opt for a long enough t-shirt after your shower that you didn’t need panties, toying with your folds with gentle brushes of his fingertips. Instantly, you part your legs for him, not being able to help yourself when his touch pushes away every ounce of stress.
He loves the way you feel beneath his fingers, soft and delicate and it makes him groan as he takes his time exploring between your legs. Biting down on your bottom lip, you resist the urge to whimper, as well as beg him, wanting to feel those lovely, strong fingers inside of you, pleasing you, making you come.
He takes his time, easing his fingertips up and down your slit before finally pressing his middle finger to your clit. A shiver surges down your spine, warmth filling every inch of you from his touch and it renders you breathless the moment he begins circling your clit in the slowest of motions. A roll of your hips lets him know you want more, trying your best to stifle your moans even if his roommate is softly snoring next to the two of you.
“Do you like that, baby?” As if it wasn’t difficult enough keeping your noises of pleasure to a minimum, he begins teasing you further. “Let me hear how good it feels.” Two of his fingers begin to caress up and down your clit, so slow it nearly drives you mad but you’re determined not to become overwhelmed.
“B-But…”
“Let him hear, too.” A deep, raspy chuckle against your ear lets you know he doesn’t give a single fuck. If you’re being honest, it only makes you want this more. “What do you want, baby? Do you want my fingers inside of you?”
“Yes,” you exhale, before clamping down on your bottom lip again and clutching the thin sheets beneath you.
“Tell me, baby,” he instructs. “Say the words.”
By now you can feel yourself dripping down your slit and onto his bed, trembling with desire and need and he won’t give you what you want until he hears you beg for it. Even bucking your hips in an attempt to gain more pleasure and plead with your body only causes him to chuckle once again, continuing to tease with his two fingers gently caressing your clit.
“Ask for it, baby.” The words release in a groan. “Let me hear you.”
“Please,” you finally gasp, already so breathless with need, “I want your fingers inside of me.” There’s no way his roommate didn’t hear the desperation in the words if he’s awake, so you pray he’s still sound asleep once he lowers his fingers to your entrance.
In one thrust, he pushes two inside of you, already soaked and dripping and so ready for release as you gasp and tighten your thighs around his hand. Chuckling, he pulls his hand away to part your legs once again, tsking while giving your mound a light smack.
“Keep them parted, baby,” he warns, only once, but it’s enough for you to obey. A moment later he slips his hand between your thighs to ease his fingers within you once again. This time, you struggle to keep your legs parted while trembling next to him, earning pleased groans from him between kisses to your forehead.
“God,” you whimper, head rolling off his shoulder as your eyes close tight and the only thing you can do is grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin to leave marks.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans, “let me hear you.”
You can’t contain the whimpers and moans, hips rolling against his hand as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you, curling them, dragging them out, only to push them in all over again. Juices coat his flesh and sloppy sounds of him fingering you fill the small dorm room, but neither of you care about the risks of getting caught any longer. His pace quickens, earning every last moan and cry and whimper that leaves your lips and as the room spins and bliss fills every inch of your body, the thought of someone hearing is the furthest thing from your mind.
When he feels your walls contracting and your legs twitching, he presses his thumb to your clit, finally sending your body into an overwhelming overdrive. Circling the swollen bud earns louder releases of his name, telling him not to stop, telling him how close you are, and all he can whisper in your ear is how fucking wet you are and how fucking sexy it is to hear you moan.
His words only add fuel to the already flaming hot fire, ecstasy consuming every inch of your body and you don’t know how much longer you can last. His thumb presses to your clit harder, adding more pressure to have your mind growing numb and your entire body tingling until the warmth swells from between your thighs. You release a final gasp before holding a breath you’re not aware of, the first surge of pleasure coursing through you until you’re exhaling heavily and telling him you’re coming.
Which only encourages him to fuck you with his fingers harder, faster, drawing out every little breathy whimper and moan and curse and call of his name, until your body is going limp on the bed before you can push his hand away.
He kisses you, and you lay there and catch your breath, and neither of you realize his roommate had been awake the entire time, listening to you moan, listening to the naughty words, and wondering how he can leave the bed to clean himself up without either of you knowing.
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inevesgf · 2 days
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SKI TRIP .. part two ⠀,⠀ chrismd.
synopsis ✩ you and chris hate each other, but a ski trip and some forced proximity changes everything. after waking up in his arms, the hatred seems to simmer as the tension begins to grow.
warnings: gn!reader, in detail injury, series
authors note: guess who’s back??!? i’m back with the HIGHLY requested part two of the skip trip series! after graduating, i now have some time of my hands to feed the chris girlies. part three in the making, I PROMISE. for you @imredjack xx
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the day ahead called for an awkward one — the air seemingly more tense than before. the room was quiet as you two got ready for the day. the only sound filling the room one of hoziers voice as music played faintly over the speaker you had brought with. chris had taken his time getting ready and didn't open his mouth to rush you when you did the same. it felt weird; chris not being at your throat. you couldn’t help but miss his attitude — to you, it was much better than the painful silence. instead of feeling small in chris’ presence, you now felt awkward. the thought of his warm arms tangled around your body as you slept haunted you at the back of your mind. you wondered if it bothered chris the same — the silence being the only way he could cope with his anxiousness. you knew it was better to pretend it didnt happen as you attempted to shove the thoughts away. "d'you want to go get breakfast?" his jersey accent spoke over the music, breaking the silence, which made you jump a little. "uh," you hummed, setting the brush down you used to comb your hair, "yeah, that would be nice." chris flashed you a half smile which you assumed to be fake; half - assed.
as you finished getting dressed, you still tried your hardest to shake the thoughts away. it wasn’t only you that felt that awkward feeling, though — you could sense it from chris as he fixed his hair in the mirror next to you. “are you ready?” he spoke softly before turning to face you. you examined his face for a bit, searching to find what emotion he was feeling. the air around you felt tense, but not with distaste like it was before; this time it felt more calm. you searched his green eyes for some form of discomfort in his position, but you couldn’t seem to read them. “you okay?” he asked; he had noticed you had been starring at him blankly for a few, long seconds. “i, uh— sorry. yeah, i’m all set.” you flashed a smile at him, the awkwardness you had created setting in. chris grabbed his hoodie, slipping it over his head before he made his way over to the door. you followed shortly behind him, slipping out the exit of your hotel room as he held the door open for you.
it had seemed the others were utterly hungover today. not showing up to breakfast, you had assumed george, the two arthur’s and harry had a more exciting night than you did. you and chris went through the breakfast line, you only grabbing a small scoop of eggs and a piece of toast — the haunting memory of this morning taking away your appetite. you felt more uncomfortable in chris presence now; you knew he did in yours as well. you assumed chris was just trying to be nice to you, but you disliked this version of him. you missed when he had left you alone, and even if that was days ago, it felt like it had been long gone now.
you sat down at the table, grabbing your fork as you put some eggs onto the prongs. after chewing your bite, you groaned as you noticed you had forgotten some water to wash it down. chris made his way over to the table, two filled cups in hand that you didn’t take note of. you stood up, “i forgot some—“ “water, yeah? don’t worry, i got you some.” chris sat the glass down next to your plate before he sat himself on the chair across from you. you smiled at chris for what you felt like was the first time ever. “thank you — i appreciate it.” and surprisingly chris returned to smile to you. “it’s not a problem.”
after george had taken meds to deal with his hangover, he decided it was another beautiful day to go out. fastening your skis to your ski boots, you pulled down the goggles in front of your eyes. “you think you’re going to be better today?” arthur(tv) teased, tapping you softly with his elbow. you huffed, rolling your eyes at him even if he couldn’t see them. “better than you — yeah.” you jabbed back, knowing arthur wasn’t the best at skiing either. “i think with all those legs, you’re better off snow boarding — you look like a giraffe on skis.” “you are so mean!” arthur seemed to whine, to which chris overheard as he laughed. “they aren’t wrong —“ chris added in, a smile on his face as he found the enjoyment of teasing arthur. arthur found this gesture strange — he used to notice chris had barely ever put himself into a conversation when it involved you. “i am uncomfortable right now.” he stated, looking in between the two of you. “what?” you questioned, confused. “oh, you know.” he spoke, being vague as he fastened his boots. “no, seriously.” part of you pretended not to notice what he meant, but the other part of you wanted to know his opinion on it. arthur eyed chris, giving him a sort of glare that hinted of confusion. all chris did in response was shrug, pretending as if he did not have a clue at what arthur was hinting about. “it’s not big deal, really—“ arthur spoke as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “alright then—“ you responded. you couldn’t help but itch for an answer, wanting to dig deeper into his thoughts; pulling attention to yourself in that way would be stupid, though. “you know, i think you’re right,” arthur began again, seemingly changing the conversation, “maybe i ought to try and snowboard today, i might be better at it.” his words gained a chuckle from george who had began to pull his goggles over his eyes. “i like your attitude — you’re so positive!” george teased, making arthur slap him on the shoulder. “what?!?” george spoke defensively, “you really think you’d be able to stand up?” “you two fight like married couple — you sure you aren’t gay, george, even a little bit?” chris now spoke, a smile on his face as he made pitty banter with george. “now i’ve got no time for your ‘gay accusations’ — the snow awaits us, king of the north.” george pretended to salute, his words making you laugh as chris pulled his gaze over to you. that stupid smile still remained on his face, and again, you couldn’t help but just smile back.
you hadn’t skied so much since this trip; still trying to gain back your semi-good abilities you had gained last winter. you were able to stand up well, stop yourself when you needed to, and even do small jumps; nothing quite impressive. you spent your time skiing alongside arthur, picking up small talk now and then as chris followed shortly behind, chatting harry up about football. at this point you had lost george — being the better one at snow sports than the rest of you, he was way ahead. “should we try the jumps?” arthur suggested to you, which made you laugh a little at him. “i mean — i can do the jumps — you suggesting you can do it frightens me a little.” a small chuckle escaped your lips as you laughed, letting yourself slowdown with your skis a little, allowing arthur to catch up as he now slowly trailed behind. “you’re so mean to me,” arthur pretended to be hurt, not being able to help himself as he laughed at your words. “we can always try — just don’t want you getting hurt, you know?” you spoke, almost reaching the bottom of the ski slope, chris and harry still following behind. “what is it; do you love me or do you hate me?” he teased, a playful tone in his voice. “it’s a love-hate relationship, mate.” reaching the end of the slope, harry and chris came to a stop with you, “where to next?” harry questioned, pulling his goggles on top of his helmet. “well — arthur wanted to go to the jump path,” chris and harry both laughed at your words, “‘maybe we can just try it out?” harry nodded at your proposal, smiling. “doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea.” he spoke, moving his way along to get back on the ski lift to head back to the top of the hill. you all followed, avoiding other skiers as you made your way to the lift.
the ski resort thankfully had different levels of hills: ones for newer skiers and more experienced ones. wanting to be safe, you, chris and arthur chose the easier one — harry swearing he could do the one for more experienced skiers. “alright, arthur — since this was your idea, why don’t you go first?” chris proposed, arthur looking irritated at his words. “what if i get hurt?” he asked, a bit timid in his words. “oh cmon — it’ll be fine, you weren’t worried about that earlier.” chris responded, giving the boy a little bit of encouragement. with a sigh, arthur decided to go, propelling himself forward with his ski sticks. you watched him as he went down the hill, slowing himself when he got too close to people. choosing the smallest little bump, arthur went over it successfully — you and chris cheering like proud parents. “they grow up so fast.” you laughed, chris returning it. “you think you can do better than him?” he asked, now teasing you once more, this time more friendly than it was days previous. his sudden change in demeanor still made you uncomfortable. shaking off your thoughts, you responded to him. “i mean — i don’t want to brag.” you spoke jokingly, chris raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “i’m sure i can make it over a bigger jump than he can.” chris smirked over at you, pulling his goggles over his helmet to get a better view. “go on then.”
if you could have looked seconds into the future, you would not have taken chris’ words of encouragement. of course, it was your fault in the end; for some reason, you wanted to show off to chris — and it sure would have been impressive if you could have landed on both feet instead of landing your whole body on one. the crunch of your bones was almost audible as your body smacked down onto the snow. you thought it would catch you like a soft pillow, but the surface was almost as hard as rocks. “fuck, fuck, fuck—“ was all you could mumble out, ripping at your gloves to get them off as you cradled your knee like a baby. george, who had seemed to come to the top of the slope after snowboarding down, was the first to come to you. he was worried, his instincts to help you being those of a brother figure. “jesus, are you okay?” he asked a bit panicked, chris now joining his side. chris kneeled down next to you, placing a hand on your back as you shuttered at the sudden touch. “what hurts, hun?” his words made you feel warm: a feeling you never felt around chris, but that was the least of your worries at that moment. “my knee — oh my god.” you winced as george started to slowly roll your snow pant leg up. the area around you knee was red, mimicking your cold, rosy cheeks. it hurt to straighten, and as george helped you, you couldn’t help but start to cry a bit.
you were embarrassed; the thought of crying in front of you friends made you cry more due to discomfort. at this point, george had flagged down one of the guards at the resort, whom of which had brought a gurney to help carry you up the hill. “i can walk — its fine.” your embarrassment started to talk even though you knew walking would have been too painful. “no no — it’s okay. you need help, you can’t walk up by yourself. we need to make sure you’re okay.” chris spoke as you turned your gaze over to him. you couldn’t help but study the nervous and worried expression on his face. to you, chris was hard to read, but in this moment, his emotions acted as a open book.
the rest of the night was filled with unsettled eyes watching over you after the group had brought you to a nearby hospital. the news that you had fractured your knee bothered you. a trip that was supposed to be fun was now interrupted by a poor decision you had made to impress your friends. you couldn’t stop apologizing, but chris and george who had stayed to watch you had told you it was fine. deep down, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed. “alright, we’re discharging you. stay off of your knee as much as you can, and as unfortunate as it may sound, please spend the rest of your time here relaxing.” the doctor spoke, making you sigh. “thank you, i will.” you muttered, a defeated tone in your voice.
the whole way home, chris couldn’t stop berating you with questions. he kept asking if you were okay, if you needed anything, and as nice as it was — it confused you. you tried to rationalize with yourself that chris was just trying to convince himself that you were okay and he didn’t have anything to worry about; you didn’t know why he was worried so much.
the day had exhausted you, so when you got back to the hotel you decided to skip dinner and relax. chris had decided to stay with you, even though you practically begged him to go and have fun. “i just want to make sure you’re alright.” “or you just want to take care of me like a baby.” your tone came out more snippy than it was supposed to, but your irritation with yourself flooded your words. “you think im babying you?” chris sounded offended, defeated even, as he glanced down at you. “no—“ you pushed out, gathering your words as you examined the perfectly wrapped bandage around your knee and the crutches next to the bedside. “i just want you to have fun. you don’t need to take care of me. i thought you hated me.” it was a conversation you needed to have, even if you didn’t want to have it now; something in your body just nagged at you for an answer. you couldn’t help but be confused as to why someone who hated you so much a few days ago had now done a complete 180. “i never hated you.” he breathed out; you could tell he started to worry. “well it seemed like it. why did you act like that towards me?” chris couldn’t seem to come up with an answer, it was like you were speaking a different language and he couldn’t understand. “i’m sorry, i don’t know.” you could hear the remorse in his voice, but it didn’t satisfy your want for answers. “you don’t know? surely theres something: some reason you were such an asshole to me and now you’re all different.”
before he could answer, before words could come out of his mouth, he leaned down and kissed you. it was a spur of the moment action, you knew it was, but you couldn’t help but sink into his lips as he did. it didn’t last long and when he pulled away, you oddly found yourself wanting more. a small, shocked expression was plastered on your face that was easy for chris to read. “does that say anything to you? is that enough?” he now seemed upset like he didn’t want to kiss you, like all of a sudden he didn’t want to be near you again. “yeah.” you spoke, irritated at his tone. “good, because that’s why.” before you could get another word out, chris grabbed his bag and disappeared out of the hotel room door, now leaving you alone. in silence, as the dim light of the moon slipped through the blinds, you reflected on everything. the silence and the moment spoke so loud to you, and you muted it like an alarm as you found yourself falling asleep.
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Six: Cuts Like a Knife
Bucky is determined to find you when he and Steve begin making headway in the search across the Pacific. Meanwhile, after days of peace lead to your shelter finally being finished, your truce is broken when Loki insults you for the final time.
CHAPTER WARNINGS: Loki is a bastard again, very brief descriptions of blood/injury
MASTERLIST
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“Oh, fuck it,” you muttered under your breath ruefully, staring at the littered chaos that was your camp on the beach. 
Loki had been right about the storm only being a squall. It was just after sunrise when you emerged from the cavern to the typical pink-and-orange sky. You insisted that you could make the swim back without Loki’s voluntary discomfort, and you did. A part of you was still convinced that he had turned into a dolphin more for your impression than your overall well being. 
Whether the rain runoff had moved everything when it made the sand wet, or if the tides just came in that much higher due to the swell, the camp was destroyed regardless. Three of the bamboo beams Loki had placed around the thick palm trunk were washed away, and the rest were either uprooted entirely or askew. The completed floor panel was, thankfully salvageable, but the frame of the second was also gone for good. None of the clay pots Loki had made were in sight. 
“I don't think it’s that bad. Look, the parachute made it!” Loki pointed to the sopping, limp white fabric spread out like a net some yards away. 
“Ugh, that’s going to take a week to dry,” you moaned. 
Loki shrugged. “We could be rescued by then.”
“I hope so.”
You looked at Loki in silence, trading looks of tense worry. “I guess we rebuild before another storm comes?” you suggested weakly. “Maybe we reinforce the support beams or choose a trunk further into the forest this time?”
He smiled back. “As you wish.” 
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A rogue tropical swell had moved across the sector Steve and Bucky were searching, forcing them to land in New Zealand to refuel after a day’s fruitless effort. As they waited at the hangar under Stark’s company’s control, Bucky was asking everyone in the vicinity if they’d received any signs of life in the area. No one had, of course. 
Steve was having a hard time reining in his friend. “Buck, don’t you think if they did hear something they’d say so?”
“She’s out there with that…that predator,” he muttered frantically under his breath. 
“Loki is a lot of things, but I don't think he’s that, not anymore.”
“He’s UNSUPERVISED!” Bucky snapped. “He can be whatever he wants now, including a killer, a rapist, a--”
“--Bucky, you’ll trigger The Soldier!” Steve warned. “You know you’re still vulnerable!” 
Bucky looked at his confidante and took a deep breath out. Steve was right: his deprogramming was never finished, because even in Wakanda the technology wasn’t complete enough. The team there did what they could, but by the end, Bucky became a sort of proto-Hulk. His madness was now only triggered under stress, which could be both a blessing and a curse. 
“It doesn’t hurt that the world is now on the hunt for him,” Steve reminded Bucky, patting his shoulder firmly in manly comfort. “They’ll be found.”
“But will she be found ALIVE?” Bucky added.
 Steve nodded with a reassuring smile that unrolled gracefully across his chiseled face. “Absolutely, if we have any say in it.” 
A man in beige khakis tapped the Cap on his shoulder. “Team Stark has checked in. They’re refueling in Manila, no signs.”
“Shit,” Bucky exclaimed. 
“Ahem?” 
A second, much smaller man stepped out from behind the first, dressed identically and holding a small clipboard. Everyone looked at him curiously. “What is it, Mr. Smithers?” asked the larger soldier. 
“We…we just got a call from a small Coast Guard station in the Marshall Islands,” said the nervous boy. They reported a Mayday signal four days ago before being dropped at about 11:30pm. It may have been them.”
“WHERE?” asked Bucky at a shout. 
“About a thousand-or-so miles off this coast, probably due north.” 
“And why didn’t they scan that area already?” asked Steve, keeping a hand on his friend’s shoulder to quell his anger. 
The larger man interjected to answer Steve before Mr. Smithers could. “It’s not an easy area to scout once you leave Micronesia. Some islands out there are too small to spot, others are in prime typhoon paths, the winds and currents can be too strong to stay on course.”
“This region has the most isolated islands on Earth. Planes can’t get to some of them without extra fuel onboard,” Mr. Smithers added. “It’s very possible no wreckage will be found.”
“I’m not looking for the goddamn wreckage, I’m looking for her,” Bucky grunted aggressively. 
“Buck,” Steve said authoritatively. “It’s fine. This is our first lead, we’re already ahead of the others.” He turned to Mr. Smithers, who was now all but cowering behind the taller man. ”Can we get exact coordinates?”
“Probably,” said the unnamed taller man. “We can go through the log, and if we find it, you can be airbourne again within the hour.”
“Excellent, thank you!” said Steve, slowly bringing Bucky away, encouraging deep, calming breaths. “We’re gonna find them, Buck. I promise.”
“He’s such a piece of shit,” Bucky replied, Loki’s smarmy face in the back of his mind. “The things he could be doing to her right now if they’re even alive!”
Steve shook his head with a frown. “She’s tough as nails, she’s always been able to keep Loki at arm’s length. You have nothing to worry about.”
He wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, but Bucky was fully prepared to take Loki out if he got wind of the Asgardian putting a single finger on you. He looked up into the air, his nerves not yet settled, but at least he was breathing normally and at a lesser risk of becoming The Soldier. 
When I find you, Y/N, I’m gonna get down on one knee in front of everyone, I swear! No more keeping it a secret. 
“You really have nothing to fret over,” Steve assured him, “Even if they’re walking on some warm deserted beach, Y/N has never entertained feelings for him. Hell. she has never enjoyed being around Loki!”
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 You’d never admit it (even to yourself), but for the first time in your life, you were enjoying being around Loki. 
Aside from the parachute and surviving floor panel, everything else was useless or missing. You suggested spending a few hours scouting further down the beach. After all, you were beginning to wear a footpath through the trees, but neither you nor your companion had bothered looking on the western or southern sides of the island for more opportunities for shelter. 
There was still an awkwardness to your cordiality, but for now it would have to do. Your strategy for keeping things to small talk that anyone could relate to was working out well. The pair of you walked along the beach for much of the afternoon as the sand dried under your feet, sharing the occasional laugh or witty remark as you talked about the little things too keep you both calm and amicable.
“Top three fears,” Loki suggested as a prompt. “And keep it to the physical. I don't want to ruin this lovely afternoon by talking philosophy.’ 
You twisted your lip in thought before replying with, “Spiders, clowns, and Pauly Shore movies.” 
His reaction was a standard ‘hmm.’ 
“Hmm? You aren’t even going to ask for more?” you teased. “There is a VERY specific reason for why I’m afraid of Pauly Shore that I’m sure you would just die to mock.” 
“The more time I spend with you, the more I learn to be satisfied with what you give me,” Loki sighed. “I suppose that’s not a bad thing.” 
“No? Must mean I’m boring to you.”
The God strode a step ahead of you, turned around, and began walking backwards with remarkable grace, so that he could face you while he spoke. “It means you don’t waste anyone’s time. As someone who once had to spend seven hours listening to his father kiss the rear of the King of Vanaheim while standing knee-deep in a mound of snow, I can certainly appreciate that.”
You followed Loki down the beach, your feet tracing his step at an even pace, while continuing to expand on this newfound pattern of stability. Eventually, you came upon a dry dune that was piled higher up on the beach, just in front of two large palms bending out toward the shore. If the mound of sand weren’t bone-dry, you could’ve almost burrowed into it and created a hobbit-hole for yourself in the cool shade. 
“This piece of real estate comes with a guard wall,” you suggested lightly. “Still in the shade, but looks a bit more protected from the elements.” You turned to Loki with a genuine smile. “What do you say?”
Loki wanted to say how good it felt that you were asking for his input, but he only matched your grin. “Let’s begin anew, then, shall we?” 
The passing storm temporarily brought the humidity down in the morning, but by late afternoon the moisture in the air had built back up. Loki started by re-forming a few clay pots in order to replenish your drinking water while you started ripping vines off the trees again. Loki cut more bamboo, and with a quiet, cordial working environment that put you both at ease, you were able to make substantial progress by nightfall. 
Once the sun set, you went to make a bed in the sand as you had the previous few nights, but as you settled, Loki set his green fire ablaze and looked in your direction. “All the way over there?” he faked a whine. 
“You…you want me to sit with you?” you asked him with disbelief. 
“Well, don't then, if it pleases you,” he said, suddenly grouchy, turning his back to you. 
It took a moment for your sore, overworked body to get up again once you settled down a bit in the dune, but once you did, you re-positioned yourself at Loki’s side as he used a stick to prod at the emerald coals. 
Apparently, you both were talked out, as you merely sat next to the fire in silence for a long while. You caught glimpses of his face, and he did of you. You’d been noticing his physical appearance a bit more since he began walking around in front of you wearing an improvised kilt, but something about the gentle green fireglow casting shadows across his face turned him into a work of art. It was as if the scars of his past, the arrogance of his present, and the worries of his future were highlighted in his glistening eyes. His hair was now crusted with the salt of the sea, yet it did nothing to hinder the graceful way it fell over his shoulders. 
You’d always held a secret fondness for long-haired men. It made being around the Avengers a little more pleasurable. 
Every time you caught him eyeing you, you felt exposed. You wondered if he was beginning to long for carnal company, perhaps one of his pretty little reporters or those models he encountered at public events. I’d never fit the bill, you thought sadly. Maybe I should put these ideas out of my head and not even entertain them. 
Loki’s chin turned to the sky. He whistled a phrase from some old song with casual skill. “We haven’t seen a single plane fly overhead since we’ve landed here, have we?”
“I haven’t seen one,” you said. “It gets so quiet at night I would’ve heard one.” 
“If a green fire at night doesn’t attract an airplane, nothing will,” said Loki. 
“We can’t give up,” you insisted, “We’ll finish the shelter. This spot is better. Once we do, we can make a beacon to light at night.” 
Loki was quiet for a moment. You saw a row of pearls unroll across his face when he grinned after a second. “You never give up on anything. You’re so much like my brother.” 
“I’m sorry?” you asked.
Loki licked his lip and took a swig of boiled water from a clay bowl. “It’s arguably your best trait,” he said nonchalantly, “Your persistence. It’s not something you see amongst the human race every day.” 
“How do you know that?” you asked, your voice raising. “You never bothered to get to know me or how persistent I am.”
“You never noticed?”
“Noticed what?”
Loki shifted a little closer to you, until your thighs were touching. “Noticed how I was always in the room with you whenever you argued your way through some PR issue, or whenever you stood up to some shouting reporter on my behalf, as begrudgingly as you did so.” 
“I always knew you were around!” you said defensively, not wanting to sound ignorant. “It was my job to have you around.”
The god shook his head. “But you never noticed that I was watching you. I was always watching you fight those battles. Your strength…it has a way of commanding the attention of a room, whether or not you’re aware of it. There’s something attractive about it.”
Your heart began to speed up as you looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but a genuine compliment in them. “I…that’s so kind of you. I never really thought anyone noticed me, especially because I was always standing next to you.”
Loki dismissed you with a hand wave. “When you aren’t squawking like a chicken hawk, anyway.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess I do it because I feel like it's the only way to get you to listen.” 
He leaned in. “Well, maybe if you ever asked me to listen, I would have. I don't recall you ever assuming everything but the worst of me.”
You looked away, embarrassed. “I…ugh…” 
The heat of shame crawled into your face. Loki was right. For all of his insults, taunts, and harassments, you never checked in on him with sincerity. You always assumed he was out to make your day worse. His harassment was not justified, but it wasn’t as if you took active steps to solve the rift that divided your personalities. 
Loki tapped your cheek, drawing your face back to meet his. He was practically leaning over you now. “If you admit it, perhaps I’d be willing to start over with you. Here and now.” 
“Admit to what?”
“That you’ve always had it in for me, and that you’ve been wrong,” Loki requested. 
You jerked your head away from him. “I’ve been the wrong one?”
Loki gritted his teeth. “Yes--”
“--when you’re the one who pranked me the day we met and every single day after?! You’re the one who always teased me without prompting! How is this my fault when you never gave me a break! You….oh, you!”
The peaceful spell was over as anger flooded your mind again. Loki’s sweet words from minutes ago were eclipsed by the new animosity he instigated. You got up and went back to the dune, furiously kicking at the sand until you were tired enough to lie down and let exhaustion take you away. 
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You slept poorly. The following morning, you were up before the sun, managing to put together an entire floorboard by the time Loki woke up. Your mind raced between Loki’s stubborn idea that the rift between you was purely your fault, and the fact that even as you yelled at him last night, his words pricked at your heart. Part of his accusations were true: you never asked him how he was feeling, or perhaps why he acted out. If only you had…
No, Loki was wrong. You were his PR assistant, not his therapist. It was never on you to cater to his heart, only to make sure the surface of him was appropriate for when the UN was looking. In that aspect, you never once failed at your job. 
Did Loki ever want there to be more between you? Did he ever want to tell you what was on his mind? How could you tell, when every other time you saw him he was shoving his tongue down some blonde’s throat? 
Were you…jealous? Was that it?
No, you told yourself, you’ve never wanted that from Loki. His arrogance is such a turnoff! 
How could Loki gaslight you so, when he wasn’t even around? That bastard’s powers! Maybe planting the seed of jealousy or guilt in your mind was part of another mind game of his. 
You were tying up the frame of your next floor piece, hoping Loki would wake up soon to cut more bamboo, when he snuck up behind you, holding a coconut shell and digging slowly at the meat with a fingernail, plucking a chunk and gently laying it in his mouth before addressing you. “How long have you been up?” 
“Hours, and I need more bamboo,” you said coldly. 
That was the only exchange you had for most of the day. 
While it was much less comfortable to work around him that day, the renewed animosity between you meant you both could focus on your tasks. Your shelter advanced even more than it had before. All of the support poles were firmly in the ground, and three out of the four floorboard panels were finished. Loki configured everything as a sort of bridge between the two leaning palms, the parachute would hang above.
“We’ll be able to finish by this time tomorrow,” Loki said, bringing two more bamboo stalks out from the jungle, one in each fist.
You were silent, his words from yesterday still buzzing like a mosquito in your ear. You were just finishing the third panel, and Loki’s sticks were the last ones you needed to complete them. You quietly reached out for one, but he withdrew them and stepped back. 
“You’re being especially frigid today,” he said with suspicion. “Did something I said last night stick with you?”
“You mean nothing to me, Loki, now give me those!” 
“Not until you admit that I am, in fact, right!” Loki insisted. 
“For fuck’s sake Loki, sometimes I wish--”
“--wish for what?” he challenged. You grabbed onto one of the stalks and began pulling back on it. Loki’s Asgardian strength would eventually win out, but you put all of your body weight into your struggle regardless. 
Suddenly, every ounce of what you’d been suppressing for the past year and a half came exploding from every cell of your body all at once in one impressive shockwave. 
“--LOKI, I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!” 
You both flew backwards. Somebody had given, but you weren’t quite sure if it were you or him. All you did know was while you fell onto soft sand, Loki had stumbled back into the forest and fallen over a stone. He shouted, stumbling to his feet. 
“NORNS!” he hissed in pain, his hand flying down to his shins. Your eyes flew to the blossoming spot of blood that grew along his ankle. 
“It’s just a cut,” you mumbled. “If you’re going to whine about it, I’ll be over by the fire so I don't have to hear it.” 
High and Mighty Loki of Asgard is upset over a scrape! 
Leaving the bamboo at his feet as Loki winced and examined his wound, you turned your back to him. You could hear him mutter a single word under his breath as you walked away. 
“Bitch.” 
You’d heard many terrible, malignant words come from Loki’s mouth. For some reason, this was the first one that stung. 
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TAGLIST: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtuffff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki
@soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14 @lokidokieokie @littlegodslut
@casifer391 @free-llama-arcade @alucardsdaddyissues @pest-ill-ence @elviswifesworld @mynameiskelly @xxinvisiblexx @luphelia @hyunsuksswife
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irlvelvette · 21 hours
Note
u should doooo bunny!reader x vox 🤭🔮
🔮anon is coming for everyone atp but i have the most perfect idea for this one !!
warnings: bunny!reader is sensitive, vox . . . is not the most reliable with being nice 24/7, not proofread, vox refers to reader as baby, valentino is his own warning, bunny is short as hell
“i’m just saying that the little conejita would make a ton of money” vox just blinked at valentino after that sentence. you were sitting on vox’s lap during one of the vee’s meetings. you didn’t much care for the conversations and you didn’t really pay attention to half the things they said. then again vox also distracted you anyway he could especially because when velvette was late, like today, valentino’s attention always was turned to you.
“you’re not making my girlfriend a porn star val.” your boyfriend sighed, you barely were able to be within a couple feet of valentino let alone be able to work with him. especially due to the fact that if you weren’t currently sitting on your boyfriends lap you would probably be freaking out over the fact you’re even in the same room as valentino.
valentino got up and moved from his seat on the other side of the board room table to one next to you and vox. he leaned over so he could be eye level with you, taking your attention away from whatever movie vox put on your phone to entertain you. “conejita, wouldn’t you like to be a star?” you just stared back at the moth before turning your gaze to vox which caused valentino to let out a sigh.
“see! she won’t even answer me she’s too worried about what her little boyfriend wants to answer” vox let out a sigh at this. “val. i don’t control her.” valentino thought for a moment before sitting back up and smirking at vox. “then hand her over. she obviously won’t answer without your opinion if she’s still with you.” vox rolled his eyes before sighing again. “val-” the moth immediately cut him off. “vox you know i’m right.”
vox made eye contact with you as you were still staring at him before picking you up and putting you on valentino’s lap which immediately caused you to reach back out for vox. valentino used one set of hands to move you so you looked at him and another set to hold your hips. “look at me little conejita.”
you looked at valentino, but not for long as your vision started to get blurry due to tears welling up in your eyes. valentino sighed “i forgot how much of a cry baby this little conejita is.” he picked you up and set u down on your feet right in front of vox. who expected you to immediately climb back onto his lap for comfort. but to his surprise when he reached out to you he was met with the sound of a thump.
vox did research on bunnies when he first started going out with you. one of the main things he learned is that when a bunny thumps it’s basically a big “fuck you”. he was glad you never did it to him before so you can imagine his surprise when you thump at him for the first time.
“baby.” your boyfriend said lowly. valentino pissed him off half the time to begin with, but now you thumping at him too? he tried to remain calm but his patience was thinning. “the little conejita has never thumped at me.” he was right, you never would dare thump at valentino, he scared you too much. vox scared you at times too, but you were still upset about him just giving you to valentino that you thumped at him again.
vox didn’t know what to do at this point, you were usually his well behaved little bunny that usually never caused trouble, he’s only needed to punish you once and that’s because he had caught you chatting with the radio demon. so he was quite surprised to see his baby bunny thumping at him. especially when he’s trying to calm down the crying that was still coming from you.
he took a deep breath before picking up your much smaller figure and bringing you back onto his lap. “hey.” he said in a stern but still comforting tone, it wasn’t until he noticed you not paying any attention to him that he got a little louder. “hey!” you immediately looked up at him sniffling.
he sighed before looking over at his business partner and signaling him to leave. “i’m trying to be nice to you here baby, but you’re making it hard when you’re not even paying attention to me.” he said it in his more comforting tone trying not to work you up more as he hates the sight of you crying. “what’s with the thumping? you don’t do that with me i thought?”
you shook your head trying to wipe away your tears but more just came flooding down afterwards “you gave me to valentino. i don’t like valentino.” he let out another sigh before kissing your forehead and pulling you into him. “i know baby, but the thumping is not okay. not with me okay? you wanna thump you can thump at valentino all you want.”
you shook your head again, why couldn’t he understand you were scared and he gave you to the reason you were so scared? vox stood up and set you down next to his chair. you looked up at him confused before you heard a thump. which caused you to just stand there confused.
“see baby? it’s not so fun to be thumped at hmm?” you shook your head at his comment immediately moving to try and get comfort again. grabbing onto his waist as it was level to your chest due to the height difference. vox sat back down and pulled you back onto his lap. “we done thumping now?” you nodded and vox immediately pulled you closer so that your head laid against his chest. “good because i have to deal with valentino being pissy all the time i don’t need my baby thumping at me all the time to add onto that.”
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frenchkisstheabyss · 19 hours
Text
♡ Sympathy for the Devil ♡
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♡ Pairings: mobster!boyfriend!jimin x chubby!fem!reader
♡ Genre: mafia au/angst/smut
♡ Summary: After an arguement with your boyfriend, you set out to get back at him by bringing a date to the restaurant he frequents on a night you know he'll be there. It's a dangerous game, toying with another human life to get your way, but you do love danger, don't you? You wouldn't be looking to make a killer jealous if you didn't.
♡ Word Count: 3.2k
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♡ Warnings: appearance of other members (non romantic), dom Jimin w/ switch vibes sprinkled in, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, clit teasing, marking (hickeys), pet names (baby), you're feral for each other, fingering (f receiving), spanking, you give him a lil slap, choking, bathroom sex, possessiveness, jealousy, you're both kinda psychotic, implied murder, & that's it for the list of wholesome things in this fic.
♡ A/N: I'm such a sucker for mafia movies so I have the biggest soft spot for mafia fics. I want to thank @anyamaris for reading this first and encouraging me along the way when I was struggling with writer's block. Idk what I'd do without my #1 cheerleader for my dom Jimin agenda ❤️
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Some of the prettiest animals in nature are simultaneously the deadliest. Park Jimin is no exception...
It’s impossible not to be enchanted by him. His face is a heavenly mixture of handsomeness and beauty. The cadence of his voice is like a song you can’t quite get out of your head and just when you think you have it’s back again. It’s all enough to make a girl blind to the blood on his hands.
Falling in love with him made the rest of the world all fuzzy. It blurred out everything. Not just the money laundering or the drug trafficking. To love him, to be loved by him, makes everything else feel like background noise. You've never touched a hard drug in your life but, the way he makes you feel, he must qualify as one. 
That’s why you’re here doing the dumbest shit you’ve ever done in your life.
Arguments are inevitable in relationships. But arguments when you’re dating a mob guy? They’re different beasts entirely and it’s a bitch to tame them. Your last argument with Jimin led to you packing a bag and running off to your best friend’s place. In the beginning you never had to question if you came before everything else. You were special to him—at least you thought you were—and he’d stop anything to be with you.
But lately that hasn’t been the case. He’s been replacing his presence in your life with gifts, thinking he can make up for missed dates and lonely nights with designer bags. Maybe the other girlfriends are content with cuddling up to some ugly mink coat in place of their man but you aren’t one of them. 
He just can’t seem to get that through his thick skull so you’ve set out to make him. If the death stare he’s giving you across this bustling restaurant is any indication of how your plan’s going, it’s working like a charm. You spent hours styling your hair just the way he likes it. Elegant and sleek, marrying beautifully with the softness of your face.
Your manicured nails are painted a translucent blue that deepens the slightest bit when the light hits it a certain way. The dress you’re wearing accentuates your curves in all the places he loves which, let’s be honest, is everywhere. And your heels, the heels, somehow makes your ass look more perfect than it already is. All of this and you’re sitting at a table having dinner with another man. 
You spot Namjoon throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, no doubt leaning in to give him one of his infamous pep talks. "Don’t worry about her” he’s surely saying, “It’s not worth it, man. See, sometimes love is just…” Joon goes on, doing his best to keep his younger brother from doing something stupid but Jimin’s hardly listening. How can he when his blood’s boiling hot enough to eat its way through his flesh?
Every Sunday night the brothers and their girlfriends come here for dinner. The owners, a sweet elderly couple, love them as if they were their own and give them the biggest table no matter how packed it is. This is the one night they get to pretend they’re a normal family. It’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition. Everyone knows that. You know that. 
“The thing a lot of women don’t understand is that men by nature aren’t monogamous” your date rambles between messy bites of dinner. The man’s not ugly by any means but god is he a pig, in more ways than one. Not that you’re complaining. It’s why you had your best friend set you up with him. Whoever you bought here was no doubt being led to slaughter. Who better than a pig?
A chill runs through you at the ruthlessness of your own thoughts, wiping the smile from your face. Looking up, Jimin captures you in his gaze, the death glare replaced with a look of childlike amusement. It’s as if the smile had fled from your face to find its new home on his, taunting you from afar. What’s he smiling for? You’re not foolish enough to think it’s for anything good. 
“I was thinking, it’s kinda loud in here. Wanna go to my place?” your date asks, his poor attempt at getting laid tonight falling on deaf ears.
Jimin stands up, slipping out of his suit jacket as he does so. Rolling up the sleeves of his pressed dress shirt, he leans to whisper something in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pours him a shot and he knocks it back like it’s nothing. The rest of the table watches on, concerned but doing their best to carry on dinner as usual. Their collective heart rate increases but none more than yours.
Maybe you hadn’t really thought this one out. Noticing the color drain from your face, your date reaches out to touch your hand. “Don’t!” you snap, jumping up from your seat. “I’m sorry. I just need a second.”  Jimin’s halfway across the dining room when you flee toward the bathroom, nearly knocking into some poor innocent waiter in the process. 
Navigating your way through the halls, you scramble to find a way out. You’ll tell the guy you’re sick. That’s it. Say you’re not feeling too well, must be the food or something, and send him on his way. Pretend this never happened.
“Beautiful dress, darling” an older woman smiles as she leaves the bathroom. You dash in before the door closes behind her, peeking your head back out to avoid being rude. “Thank you!” you shout after her, quickly shutting the door and hurrying to the sink to splash some water on your face.
“Snap out of it” you whisper, flicking specks of icy water at the makeup you worked tirelessly to apply. “Maybe…maybe he won’t do anything, right? We’re in public. He wouldn’t—” You force a weak, pained smile at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. “Who are you kidding?” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “He’s gonna kill him.”
“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” sighs a voice that is distinctively not yours. Your hands drop from your face and there Jimin is, standing in the doorway with that same smile on. The one he’d so brutally ripped from your face. And here you are, shivering like a child too afraid of the monster under the bed to make a run for it. 
In all your panic you could’ve sworn you locked the door when, in fact, you’d done no such thing. If he’d knocked you would’ve had to open it anyway—you’ve never been great at saying no to him—but at least you would’ve given yourself a fighting chance. Nothing to stress your pretty little head about. Jimin steps in, easing the door closed, and you hear a sharp click. It’s locked now.
The heels of his black Louboutin shoes tap against the polished tile as he approaches the sink. Your heart jumps with each tap, the sound growing unbearably louder the closer he gets. Jimin brings his arms around your waist, holding you as only lovers do, “You want me to hurt him, don’t you? Want me to break every bone in his body to show you how much I love you?” His full lips brush against your neck, soft tongue running along the surface of your skin like the head of a match ready to light up with dazzling flames.
Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching helplessly as his hands skate up and down your body, fingertips ghosting your most sensitive areas. His touch is a truth serum, forcing you to betray yourself and lay your motives bare. “You protect the things you love, Jimin. I only wanted to know if I was still one of them. Even if that meant…” you shudder at the thought. “We get what we want by any means. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?” 
Jimin grins, locking eyes with your reflection as he inches your dress up to reveal your pillowy thighs. “Aah but you already have me. I let you throw your little tantrum but I’ll never let you go. You know that.” His fingers dip between the warmth of your thighs, teasing your clit through your panties.
“So why?” he whispers, his other hand coming up to lovingly stroke your neck, “Why would you try to embarrass me?”
You part your lips to speak but your words are forced back down by the sudden pressure applied to your windpipe by his hand. All that escapes are broken words and hushed gasps for air. The light abandons his eyes, that boyish charm he so effortlessly wields burning to ash as you squirm in his grip. You kick your legs to get free but it only serves to give him the room he needs to tear your panties to the side, the pads of his fingertips dripping with your arousal as they glide through your folds.
He loosens his grip on your neck and you manage to rasp out “Mmm…sorry…didn’t mean” before you’re plunged back into silence. Curling his fingers against your entrance, he sinks one into your core. A single digit pumping into needy walls that are already clenching in anticipation of the next one. Snatching your head back, he kisses you like he hates you. Hates you so much that he loves you. Loves you so much that he hates you. A cycle, endless and all consuming, that neither of you can break from.
“Prove it to me” he demands between your lips, plunging another finger into you, “Bend over and show me how sorry you are.” Your back arches, bringing your soft ass flush against his bulge. You press back into him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass each time his fingers slam into your core. Jimin sneaks a glimpse at the mirror to watch the way your body jiggles from the motion. Thighs trembling, tits rocking in sync with the harsh movements of his wrist.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” Jimin slips his hand away from your neck, drenched fingers abandoning your pussy to apply sharp, wet slaps to your ass.
Spinning around to face him, you land an equally sharp slap across his face, “Choke me like that again and I’ll rip your head off.”
If the burning of your palm is any indication, you know you hit him hard but he’s unphased. He's actually smiling, licking his lips at you like you’re the most delicious thing in this restaurant. He sweeps you off of your feet, setting you down on the sink, “So. Fucking. Pretty.”
The marble’s even colder against your bottom than it was your hands but you don’t give a shit. Jimin’s tongue’s down your throat as he pushes your dress up, ripping away what was left of your panties. That’s the only thing you give a shit about. 
“Jimin!” you giggle, tugging at the zipper on his pants, “You’re gonna make me fall.”
Hooking his arms behind your knees, he spreads your legs, pushing them to your chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you fall.”
“Promise?” you pout, fingertips tracing the veins along his length.
They pulse and twitch as he raises his hips, dragging the underside of his cock between your folds. “I promise. I won’t—aah, shit, baby” he moans, his cock glazed in your arousal without having even been inside of you yet. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.” 
You grab onto his shirt, the cotton knotted in your fists as you bask in the feeling of the head brushing your clit. “I did. Missed you so much” you mewl, guiding him to your entrance. Jimin peppers your cheeks with kisses, pushing into you. Filling you. Claiming you.  “I, mmphh, missed, fuck, missed you too” he confesses, each word emphasized by thrusts that have you wanting to climb every wall in this bathroom.
When it comes to women Jimin’s told more lies than he can remember but never with you. He misses you and he means it, misses you so much that it hurts. Not just because you take his cock so well, somehow managing to look majestic when you’re being fucked up against this mirror. But because he feels incomplete without you.
Before you all he knew was violence and greed, constantly chasing power that would never be enough. Always needing more. He often wondered how much money it would take, how many buried enemies, to fill the emptiness that’s haunted him for as long as he can remember. And then you came along—the girl whose eyes twinkle as she stares up at him, your entire body calling out his name—and he had his answer.
All he needed to cure that emptiness, rid him of the nagging feeling that something’s missing, was you. But men like him have an image to maintain. In this world people come to know you for things, fear you for them, and you can’t let them think you’re soft. Not for a second. Not if you want to get what you want. “We get what we want by any means”. That is what he told you but nothing’s worth having if it’s by way of losing you. 
Dragging you to the edge of the sink, heart thumping out of his chest from how tightly you’re clenching, he whispers into your open mouth, “Come home. I’m in hell without you. Everything’s so…so empty. Just say you’ll come back to me. Say it.”
“I-I’ll come back home. Fuck, I’ll go the moon if you want me to” you pant, watery eyes sending mascara streaming down your cheeks. You tug harder at his shirt, sending a button or two clinking into the mirror. He’s in you so deep, hitting every spot like only he knows how, that you’re ready to explode. Implode? One or the other. Maybe both.
Jimin laughs, his tongue grazing yours, “You wanna go to the moon, baby? Hold onto me. I’ll take you.”
Knowing better than to doubt him, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hold on like your life depends on it. The sink creaks beneath you as he fucks harder into a pussy that just won’t stop leaking for him. You lose control of your body. All of it belongs to him, as it should. You make no attempts at denying yourself the ultimate satisfaction when it hits. Your lips crash together as you climax, your moans, bordering on screams, pouring onto his tongue.
He eagerly devours them, returning some of his own as your walls spasm wildly, milking the cum from his swollen tip. Your cunt wants every drop of it and he’s determined to give it to you. Fill you up until it’s dripping out of you, making your thighs warm and sticky with his seed. Your body gives out and he tucks an arm behind you, sticking to his promise not to let you fall.
Staring up at the ceiling, you’re sure you see space, stars twinkling before your eyes as you float there, completely weightless. Jimin’s lips meet your heaving chest, suckling at your silky skin to leave hickeys along your collarbone.
“Mine. All mine” he repeats, “Love you so much.” 
You run your fingers through his hair as he marks you, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I love you too.” 
“Excuse me, sir. You’re holding up the bathroom” a comically high pitched voice says, tapping at the bathroom door. Jimin drags himself upright, knowing the voice too well. “You okay?” he asks, shuffling to make you both look presentable. He tries to fix your dress but there’s no use, he’s stretched it out more than he has you.
“Baby, it’s fine” you giggle, shooing him away, “I got it.” 
Jimin unlocks the door, snatching it open to reveal precisely who you both expected. “Thank god!” Jungkook cheers, rushing into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Whose idea was it to have one bathroom here, man? I’ve had to piss for like—” Reading the look on Jimin’s face, he follows his gaze over to the sink where you sit buzzed off of the afterglow with your tattered panties at your feet.
Jungkook grins, looking you both up and down, “Safe to say you two are having a good night, huh?”
Jimin hits Jungkook in the back of the head, walking over to help you down from the sink. He holds you close to him, kissing you as he steers you towards the door. “Is it done?” Jimin asks over his shoulder but you don’t hear Jungkook’s response. It’s drowned out by the symphony of sounds that assault you as you venture back out into the restaurant, Jimin’s arms still holding you tight. Scanning the restaurant you spot the table you were at with your date but now there’s another couple there. 
“Long time no see!” Jin says, jumping up to hug you. His girlfriend follows behind, hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in years. “Come sit with me” she insists, noticing your disheveled appearance, “I’ll fix you right up. I have everything in my purse.” You settle into the chair beside her and she goes straight to work cleaning the mascara from your face.
Jimin sits beside you, an arm draped over the back of your chair, and watches attentively as you get your makeup done. “Nice to have you back” Taehyung smiles, pulling something from under the table and passing it to you. Jimin sets them down before you—your jacket and your purse. You’d forgotten them at the table when you fled to the bathroom.
“Uh, thanks, I—” you stutter, cut off by Hoseok’s sudden reappearance at the end of the table. You’d seen him earlier but hadn’t noticed his seat was empty when you returned. He tries to play it off, hide it behind a smile, but he’s out of breath, utterly exhausted from something. The men glance around the table at each other. It’s a silent conversation you know you shouldn’t be in on. 
“Jimin” you whisper, when you’re sure you aren’t interrupting, “Where’s…” 
Jimin casually pours you both a drink, presenting you with a glass of wine. “Where’s who?” 
“The guy that I was…”
“The guy that you were what, baby?” he asks, brow crinkling as he feigns ignorance. “You’ve been here with me all night, haven’t you?” He turns to the rest of the table who all seem to share his collective memory loss. “Hasn’t she?” 
“Absolutely.”
“Yeah.”
“Been here all night.”
“See? Now enjoy your drink and finish getting your makeup done” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.
Just like that, everyone resumes their conversations like it’s any other Sunday night dinner. You take a sip of your wine, the post-orgasm haze finally lifts from your brain, and all of the pieces come together in your mind. You shake the truth away, opting instead for the constructed reality necessary to pretend you just didn’t get a man killed.
What date? What guy? You’ve been here all night with Jimin. The man you came here with. The man you’ll leave here with. The man you love too much to ever run away from again. Unless, of course, you want to raise the homicide rate.
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“c’mere princess peepee pants! let mommy check your diapey!”
you waddle over, face on fire as you present your pamper to mommy.
a few months ago, you agreed to just give diapers a try. now, you call your girlfriend mommy and get 24/7 baby treatment at home.
it was so much fun at first! the sensation of making humpies in a warm, wet, squishy diaper on mommy’s leg? better than any sex a man’s ever given you.
messing was a little hard at first. lots of blushing, a few tears, and tons of cuddles and reassurance from mommy made it all better though. she was just so gentle and caring, never making you feel bad for your “stinkies”.
but then came the edging. mommy sat you down one day and explained how you’re far too little to have big girl sex anymore. you seriously can’t expect her to give head to an adult who’s not even potty trained? you went from sex twice a day, to being brought to the brink every diaper change.
after a few weeks, you got desperate. resorting to humping anything you could while out of mommy’s eyesight. the couch, stuffies, blankets, even just the countertop once. of course she caught you, if the stifled moans didn’t give you away, it was definitely the loud crinkling of your diapers.
mommy’s not cruel, so seeing how badly you needed release, she gave you a new rule. you can cum whenever you want to, as long as it’s in a wet diaper.
sure, it’s humiliating sticking your hand down or humping a pissy diaper, but you could care less, you get to cum whenever you want! who cares if it’s embarrassing and infantile?
“hm, you seem pretty soaked honey, but no messies for mommy yet…”
she gropes the seat of your diaper. it’s true, you’ve been trying to hold off messing until you can get some more free time to make cummies.
“mommy’s going to give you a new rule, okay little girl?”
you nod, always wanting to obey mommy, even if oblivious to her intentions.
“from now on, you can only make cummies in wet and messy diapeys! i’m worried about your poor little tummy sweetheart, you haven’t given mommy a present in your pampies in days! you know it’s bad to hold it in princess, you could hurt yourself!”
you shake your head, beginning to whine and protest.
“nuh-uh baby, i won’t hear it! it’s for your own good darling! let’s get you changed okay?”
you whimper as mommy leads you over to your changing mat.
it’s already embarrassing enough to hump a wet diaper, but a messy one? it’s so gross and smelly, and it gets everywhere! even your princess parts!
mommy quickly disposes of your soggy padding. you watch, a little forlorn, as she dumps it into your diaper pail. that was supposed to be your next orgasm!
she pats your bum, and you lift it for her, sliding a nice clean diaper underneath you. you automatically lift your legs so she can start powdering your pussy.
instead of the nice soft power puff though, you feel something tiny and slick go into your bumhole. before you can even react.
looking over to mommy, in shock, you see her closing up the suppository jar.
“just a little something to help you along princess! don’t you wanna make cummies soon?”
she rubs the powder puff against your clit teasingly, as you stifle a moan.
as mommy finishes taping your diaper and sitting you up, you feel your bowels start to churn. you definitely don’t have long before your pristine padding sags and turns brown. at least you get to cum soon…
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Hancock x F!Reader [ A03 ]
Summary: You are important to John Hancock; there is a radstorm brewing. As a skilled and reformed scavver, you’re after a part for a decommissioned lounger—it belongs to Doc Amari’s famed Memory Den.
Hancock's tense; he should have gone with you, but it’s not too late to search you out. He would be glad to have you home safe in his arms, only things don’t always go as planned, nor do you go unpunished for your negligence.
Explicit: NSFW / 18+ for PWP, PiV sex, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, whump / hurt and comfort, angst, gun violence, light bondage, praise, light sub/dom undertones, edging, use of chems, alcohol, foul language, and canon-typical violence and behavior. Other worthy mentions include fluff, romance, a worried and protective Hancock, and love confessions.
Notes: I am normally a Star Wars writer. This is my first time writing for Hancock, and my first fic for the Fallout fandom. I see Hancock as multifaceted, which I am having fun exploring. I have many ideas, but one fic can only contain so much! I used a few lines of dialogue from the game because they stuck with me T__T. I will also most likely try my hand at Nick Valentine at some point, (and maybe even Coop), but this ghoul stole my heart.
6.8k+
Feedback appreciated. Like? Reblog! <3 Requests accepted!
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Eyes as black as tar pits searched the ground at his feet, though no answers would present themselves, the cold, grimy filth of the Commonwealth something he could relate to on an atomic level. Flecks of barren soil and bits of detritus vaulted upward in a stagnate aggregate of dust, cavalier leather boots—having seen better days—leaving a swirl of varied particulates in their wake.
Hancock paced, the Mayor of Goodneighbor impatient as a hungry mole rat, the man left to stalk before the door that led to the Financial District. A dreary, dark green pall signaled to anyone with brains that there was a storm looming on the horizon, and yet you had not returned.
“Where the hell is she?” a raspy voice asked its sparse audience, two ghouls dedicated to his cause doubling as bodyguards, though if he felt safe anywhere, it was here among his brethren.  Besides, it wasn’t his safety he was worried about, it was yours, and he wasn’t afraid to convey his feelings to the whole of town.
“Startin’ to get antsy. Gotta hand it to her, she’s got me sweatin’ like a whore in church over this. Hope she’s havin’ fun at my expense.”
Scavenging was lucrative, or it could be if you managed to score the right loot. You had to know where to look, or where not to look; danger was always in the cards. It was a game Hancock didn’t like to play, and especially not now, not when lightning streaked the sky, rain clouds pregnant with radiation threatening to burst open like a feral’s head looking down the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun.
He knew what it was like to be forced to scour the bare bones of buildings, filching anything that was ripe for the picking. A single find could feed a man for weeks, and places like Goodneighbor just didn’t just build themselves. People needed things. Lucky for them, Hancock was able to provide. It was his one claim to fame—his rep was solid—but he didn’t look down on you for being one to scout for buried treasure.
“She’ll turn up,” one of his companions offered. It was a piteous attempt to console him, Hancock all but ignoring his dismissive comment. He felt his concern was obvious, yet his bedfellows were none of their business. Either way, he brushed it off like a decent man instead of snapping like he wanted to—the guy’d done nothing wrong.
Thunderclaps echoed through town, the first of many droplets pelting his marred face, the ghoul’s faithful tricorn not doing much in the way of shielding him from the dirtied water that had begun to trickle down onto its weathered surface.
He rued allowing you to go out on this wild-mongrel chase to begin with, not to say that you weren’t capable. What he might say is that you’re too good for this world, too good for him, but that hadn’t stopped him from falling head over heels.
You weren’t anti-social like most of your kind; you had a good heart, gave paying customers fair deals, and somehow you had kept the ruins from tarnishing your cheerful outlook; you sported a chipper disposition even at the worst of times.
In other words, you were his little ray of sunshine; Hancock had no qualms with telling you that to your face. And things as precious as you were to him? They needed protecting. It was becoming more obvious by the minute that he should have done the job himself.
“If this is her definition of ‘fast,’ we’re going to need to have a little chat to clear a few things up. Should have fucking gone with her, don’t know what I was thinking,” fried vocal cords scratched out, words tinged with worry as he made his way to the reinforced slab of steel that was Goodneighbor’s single entry point, not counting the alley behind Rexford.
“Maybe you weren’t thinkin’ at all, John…” that little voice inside his head nagged at him, reminding himself at every turn of the ways he’d failed, this on the verge of being one of them.
“Want us to look?” the other rejoined, aware you had been sent out on a job to find a replacement circuit board for Doctor Amari, as one of the memory lounger’s had been marked out of service. The doc would pay you well; everyone’s gotta eke a living somehow. Hers was made by sellin’ a man’s own memories back to him, and yours was made by sellin’ spare parts.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t have skipped out on his Mayoral duties for one evening, Hancock mentally scolding himself, his sentiments leading him toward the need to kick his own ass.
Quick, adept and clever, he had no doubt you could pull it off, but you were used to traveling in a group, used to back up and a lookout. You had willingly ditched your crew and settled here for him, making Goodneighbor more or less your permanent home. He couldn’t help but feel like he was ultimately responsible for you and your well-being—so far, so good. He’d be damned if anything happened to you on his watch.
The coming radstorm was starting to sound like a stampede of angry Brahmin. Not even those of his ilk should be out in this mess. Technically immortal, sure, but not immune to accumulating all that bad stuff brewing in the atmosphere; he was comfy right where he was, but not without his lady by his side.
Their self-elected leader ignored the question, reaching into the confines of his red frock coat to unveil the firepower hidden just out of sight. His break-action, double-barreled 12-gauge had most of its stock removed for easy concealment; he knew better than to step foot outside Goodneighbor without packing heat.
“No, you might say this is a personal problem. Not to say she wouldn’t make a damn fine Ghoul,” he stated with deadly calm, kicking the door open with reckless abandon despite his unflappable demeanor, not caring what awaited him on the other side.
“I’m going with you, ain’t safe,” words spoken over harsh winds, a breeze not in the least bit refreshing having descended upon the Commonwealth as Hancock slipped out into the mounting tumult, both men following close behind. Truthfully, he was grateful for their loyalty.  
“Suit yourself, but don’t go gettin’ yourself killed. Would defeat the purpose of a search and rescue, ya feel me?”
A question not needing a response, he ventured forward, running headfirst into the growing tempest, chaos reigning overhead in the form of a blinding light show.
Hancock called out for you, yelling your name over the deafening commotion that was going to get worse before it got better, not about to go home empty-handed, even if it took the whole damn rest of the night. He hoped you were smart enough to know when to quit, or that you’d taken those Mentats he’d stuffed in your pocket on the way out.
“Get back here, scavver!”
Footfalls echoed in the dark, brisk in pace, inky, depthless eyes narrowing as the ghoul searched out the source. He had taken no more than half a dozen steps before he was forced to witness you at a full-fledged run, two burly raiders belting out insults and expletives hot on your trail.
It all seemed to happen in slow motion, but he was stone-cold sober, time standing still as you dove into Hancock’s open arms.
“There’s my girl,” the scoundrel purred into your ear, sinewy limbs enshrouding you as the sound of gunfire and discarded ammo casings nearly went unnoticed. Hancock let his own weapon fall to the ground to accommodate you, your pursuers dispatched like the trash they were. The members of the Neighborhood Watch who had accompanied him outside the walls made short work of both men; they deserved a drink and some chems on his dime.
“John,” you breathed out, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling with mirth as you held up that piece of scrap you were so proud of. His name off your tongue was musical, a warm sensation spreading through him like wildfire, better than drugs—it was a high he would never come down from.
“I—I got the part,” you spoke softly, your tepid breath tickling the remnants of a disfigured ear.
Hancock almost shivered.
But oh, no. He wasn’t about to let you off that easy, not when he’d felt that pang of anxiety and the sickening feeling in his gut like someone had shanked him with his own knife. He held you back by the shoulders, breaking your embrace, his face taking on a displeased, stern shade.
“What’s wrong with you, huh? Makin' me all kinds of nervous. Scarin’ me half to death. And some might say I don’t look too far off.” He breathed in nice and slow, exhaling through exposed nasal cavities, Hancock emitting a sigh to emphasize his disappointment. “Can’t be doin’ things like that, or you’re liable to give this old ghoul a—”
“—Sunshine?” His heart sank, as if the universe was out to prove he had every right to worry, Hancock’s attention inexplicably drawn to the red staining your fingers—it neared the color of his coat. You only now seemed to notice, that radiant light swept from your beaming face as you acknowledged the presence of your own blood on your hands; no wonder it had been so hard to take those last few steps.
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, eyes blown wide as you apologized for upsetting him. You would collapse into a heap, the adrenaline that had carried you home seeming to dissipate all at once—at least your fight-or-flight response had done its duty.
---
“Move over, out of the way. I ain’t askin’ twice,” Hancock seethed, the distraught man’s threat to bowl over anyone who stood in his way not to be taken lightly, though his tone was traitorously even and his despondency well-masked. He stormed the Old State House, ascending the spiral staircase to the second floor, carrying your limp body to a tattered red couch.
Refuse and empty Jet inhalers, along with half-drunk bottles of alcohol and boxes of Mentats, were all swept aside, Hancock throwing open cabinet doors and dislodging drawers in his haste.
“Oh, you’re really in it now, aren’t you, sister? Just had to make a few extra caps!” he chided, the ghoul’s husky voice rising in volume as he took to another part of the room.
Having not yet succumbed to blood loss, you were barely cognizant as you fought to stay awake, your beloved Mayor nothing more than a blur of motion and splotches of red as he systematically searched every nook and cranny for the syringe that would save your life.
“Hang on, dollface, you’re not dying today. Not if I have anything to say about it—and you know how much I love to run my mouth.” Hancock spoke to reassure you and himself, filling the silence with something other than the curses he wanted to dish out every which way to the wind. You couldn’t help but to smile again despite your predicament, eyelids drooping as you thought about the idea of sleep.
“There you are,” he growled, your vision starting to glaze over, though you were aware Hancock had come back to your side. His scarred, yet deceptively handsome face hovered inches above your own; it was an acquired taste you had no trouble in accepting.
“This is gonna hurt, but it’s better than the alternative,” he provided in short warning, withered fingers fumbling to unbutton your top, exposing first your sternum, your ribs, and then your belly.
“Shit, they got you good,” Hancock grumbled, your hand rising to cradle his jaw as he had peeled back the flaps of fabric to inspect the wound in your side. You were surprisingly calm, thinking that if today was your last day on Earth, at least you had been blessed to experience his company. 
“I’m glad it’s you here with me,” your voice, meek and mild, declared. Hancock hesitated for one precious second, caught off guard, but pleasantly so.
“Don’t go gettin’ sentimental on me! Ain’t like these are your final moments or nothin’,” he assured, an audible tremble causing his words to waver, voice rising in pitch. He went on to stab you without ceremony, the needlepoint of a stimpak and its revitalizing medicine at once injecting itself into your damaged flesh and pulsing through your bloodstream.
You moaned in pain, hips arching as you lifted slightly up off the cushions before you settled once more, allowing yourself to finally relax as Hancock watched the regenerative process take hold, much to his relief.
---
You awoke, finding yourself supine atop a mattress, with Hancock crossed legged on the floor beside you. He had brought it down from upstairs, wanting you to have somewhere more comfortable to recover; the drifters weren’t using it, but he was sure he could scrounge another one up should the need arise.
The door was shut, the rest of the room empty, the man teetering off the edge of a high he wished he could prolong; he had pumped himself full of all those things that made him feel better. Riddled with guilt, he had imbibed both chems and alcohol, his body slightly swaying from left to right as he could not sit entirely still, yet he was too far off in his own head to notice you had come back to him.
You shifted, realizing he had draped his frock across your body to act as a temporary blanket. This simple gesture caused a flutter behind sore ribs, biceps activating so that you might push up and rest on the flat of your palms.
John was idle, near-dead to the world, eyes closed as he kept up that gentle rocking, back and forth, as if lost in music or in deep meditation. You only desired to watch him, studying the intricate, striated patterns of his ravaged flesh, gazing over the hollow of his once human nose, and admiring his sullied, foppish tunic that was a part of his infamous ensemble.
While some might consider him a monster, he was a being of light. He had superficial, obvious flaws, but he was no more guilty of sin than anyone else in this day and age. He was a beautiful soul, inside and out, and your opinion was the only one that mattered to you. Hancock always tried to do the right thing—it’s what drew you to him—even if that meant taking out a few loose ends. 
Your heart stirred, natural chemical processes taking hold that would prompt you to touch him, your hormones dictating that you wanted this man carnally.
The ghoul’s eyes bolted open as you shuffled forward on your behind; you set his coat aside almost reverently, folding your legs like his, knees brushing as you leaned forward to kiss his wiry lips. Soft flesh against textured skin, rough in comparison, felt no less wonderful, Hancock groaning out a throaty sound of appreciation as he slowly shut his eyes again.
That was all the encouragement you needed, pressing closer, crawling onto Hancock’s lap as his hands found the meat of your ass to give it a squeeze. “Someone’s feelin’ better…” he quipped, allowing himself to lie back on the floor. His smile was lackadaisical and content, his touch roving to your thighs as he gazed up at you, noting you were tugging off your already unbuttoned top to reveal your shapely breasts.
“How’d a guy like me get so damn lucky…” he drawled, Hancock’s normally assertive way of speaking temporarily replaced by a calming cadence—it was dreamy—his indolent tone arousing your most base instincts.
You didn’t answer at first, thinking you’re the one who’s lucky. You had wanted and needed a change of pace, not happy with the way your business partners were operating, willing to bring death to others in order to get what scrap they could. You only took things from the ruins, or from those who deserved to be robbed, the idea of senseless violence proliferating thanks to people like your ragtag group something you decided you couldn’t live with.
You’d come to Goodneighbor looking for work; Hancock had been willing to give you a chance, and you didn’t disappoint. After a few heady conversations and risqué flirtations at the Third Rail, you had wound up in his arms—a place you found yourself never wanting to leave.
“I could ask you the same question,” you finally muttered, grazing his mouth, kisses repeating, small pecks placed from one side to the other in a physical show of adoration. The ghoul laughed a wry, salacious little laugh, head turning to allow for this impromptu bout of affection, stretching one arm out behind his head to act as a pillow as he relished the attention.
Then, his smile faded, the chem’s effects lingering like background radiation, less intense than before—the high lasted mere minutes if that, his faculties gradually returning. The hand left free gingerly touched your side, just below where he had administered the stimpak hours earlier. Concern was apparent in glistening eyes, so dark and lovely, starry pupils reflecting the faint luminescence of his surroundings.
“Not lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he promised, every shred of levity fleeing to be replaced by austerity, low, somber notes causing a visceral reaction as the onset of something warm and fuzzy spread throughout your core.
“Bein’ out here with me? Means you don’t gotta work, but I should have had your back, sunshine. Ain’t got no excuse.”
“You can have me on my back,” you playfully retorted, the simple suggestion unleashing a purr from the bowels of the ghoul’s throat. The idea of being a kept woman pleased you, but you were more interested in pleasing him.
“You better watch your mouth, or I can’t be held responsible for all those things I’m going to do to you,” Hancock countered. He talked big game, but he was still feelin’ shook. He didn’t want to risk getting too frisky on the off chance your body needed more time to heal; you were only human, after all.
“I’m shaking in my boots,” you simpered. Hancock was quick to snark back.
“I know that’s a lie, ‘cause you’re not wearing any.”
You gasped as Hancock flipped you without warning, pinning both your wrists to either side of your head. He drank in the smooth, supple flesh of your curves, hungry eyes making damn sure to get their fill.
He couldn’t stop himself, exploring the swell of a perfect tit, Hancock’s mouth becoming newly acquainted with the sensitive flesh of your nipple. He flicked its pert tip with the point of his tongue; you brazenly rolled your hips as you tried to contain the lewd sound that threatened to escape you.
“I double dog dare you, ” you tempted, not in the least bit afraid of what he might have in store.
Hancock didn’t take the bait.
“Don’t want to hurt you, love, but let’s say I give it to you nice and slow… Or as slow as I can give it; hard to keep promises, lookin’ the way you do,” he argued, ruined lips applying pressure as he began to suck, his growing erection gently grinding into the meat of your thigh.
“You won’t hurt me.” You shuddered as he pulled back, gazing into murky, otherworldly eyes, their glow hypnotizing. You half-assed a struggle, wanting to pull your hands free if only to touch him, Hancock chuckling mildly at your efforts.
“Don’t be so sure, ‘cause I got a hankerin’ for human,” his voice dropped emphatically lower, toying with you, his dire inflection sending tingles down your spine. Coming from a ghoul, most people would run the other way, but you knew from experience, Hancock had a twisted sense of humor—it was something you loved about him.
“Eat me,” you jeered, snapping your teeth playfully like some creature that roamed the wasteland, Hancock pulling his head back just enough to satisfy you, as if he had a nose to bite off to begin with.
“That’s the plan, sister,” he snickered, finally releasing his grip on your arms.
You took the opportunity to take hold of Hancock’s already tousled vest, guiding him down to meet your lips. Your fingers busied themselves with its unbuttoning as the ghoul had his hands full, cradling the plump, healthy tissue of your blushing cheeks in the crooks of his palms.
Hancock fed a grating moan into your mouth before asking a pointless question he already knew the answer to, not one to miss out on a chance to have his ego stroked. “Somethin’ about me.. turnin' you on? Don’t know why you’d go for this ugly mug,” he conceded, fishing for a compliment. 
“You. You turn me on,” you whined plaintively, “everything about you,” you confessed, furling your tongue around his, willing him to shut his trap long enough for you to kiss him properly. He aided in the undressing, whipping his sash off in one fell swoop, an idea blossoming only to come into fruition shortly thereafter.
“That why you’re actin’ so desperate for me?” Hancock laced that bit of ragged flag around both your wrists, constricting them once more, his own arm extending to tauten its hold. He wouldn’t give you the chance to kiss him the way you wanted to, cinching its loose ends around the legs of the coffee table just behind your head, giving it a good tug to make sure you couldn’t break free.
In reality, it would have been easy to wiggle loose, but he knew you were the type to play along.
“What are you doing?” you asked, feigning alarm. The ghoul only grinned a shit-eating grin, crawling backward across your lap to adjust to a better position for his next course of action. 
“Makin’ sure you can’t skip out on me,” he said matter of fact, a mischievous lilt to his voice, “gonna have to punish you for all that worryin’ you made me do.” 
“But, Hancock—” you protested, realizing he was barring you from the one thing you wanted—full access to his person, unable to grope and caress all those parts of him you were so eager to touch and kiss.
“—Hmm?” he hummed, the bastard having the nerve to stand. He left you in a recumbent position with hands tied, unable to do anything but gaze up at the seductive set of motions he was now subjecting you to.
The ghoul painstakingly unfastened the remainder of his buttons, wizened digits fondling each in turn, his manner suggesting something that for now would remain unspoken. Then, Hancock shrugged his vest off, allowing his arms to hang as the garment dropped silkily to the floor. It was followed by a festooned shirt, leaving the man bare chested and amused; he wasn’t sure you had blinked even once.
“Like what you see?” he asked lazily, tracing a line across his gaunt pecs toward his navel with the curl of a finger, black eyes glinting impishly at the sight of you jostling your wrists as you failed to liberate yourself.
“Yes,” you breathed out shamelessly, unable to deny the effect his little striptease had on you. This in and of itself was torture, finding his brand of punishment entirely unfair.
“Good,” Hancock crooned, doing the unthinkable as he vanished from view. He even went so far as to walk beyond your peripheral vision. Instead, you were reduced to listening out for him, the ghoul shuffling around somewhere behind you. 
“John,” you whined, sitting up and scooting back against the coffee table the best you could. You endeavored to crane your neck, hearing the clink of glass preceding other innocuous sounds, the gentle thud of Hancock’s boots echoing across the rotting floorboards as he made his way back around. 
“You can say my name all you want to, princess, but it ain’t gonna change a damn thing,” Hancock stressed, words clawing their way out of cracked pipes as he nudged your knees apart with his foot; he knelt between your legs, a dispenser of Jet in one hand, and a dose of Rad-X in the other. “Open wide,” he instructed. 
You should have known what he’d been after, the drug-addicted ghoul popping the lone anti-radiation capsule inside his mouth after dispensing a heavy spray of the illicit substance into his lungs; its potency was limited in his case, but you were easily susceptible to its high. 
You gratefully obeyed, wanting any excuse to be close to him, Hancock’s silver tongue molesting you as easily as it had persuaded you to listen. He deposited the pill into your mouth, kissing you deeply, your beloved Mayor giving you a shotgun of thick, odorous chems without so much as a single protest on your part. 
Your heart thrummed, Jet leeching its way into your bloodstream to trigger a bodily response via your nervous system. In the meantime, you had almost forgotten to swallow your dose of Rad-X, Hancock prompting you by trailing the full length of your throat with a single, sallow finger. 
He massaged it down, feeling for the activation of those muscles that would help ferry it along, his thoughts drifting to the memory of his cock once upon a time being slopped on by the wet whorl of your tongue. His prick had throbbed almost painfully, sequestered snugly inside your zealous gullet, the powerful suction of your hollow cheeks threatening to wrench his soul from his body, or it sure as hell had felt that way.
He was drawn back to the present moment by the look in your eyes, your pupils dilating to rival the circumference of dinner plates. You gazed at the man before you; Hancock pulled back the edge of your bottom lip, exposing your gumline, the ghoul snaking another of his fingers inside your partially open mouth. 
The slender extremity would bypass your blunt teeth, saturating itself in your saliva. Even in this state, you had the wherewithal to pucker up, intaking that explorative digit to the knuckle, your plush maw behaving like a deluxe pre-war vacuum cleaner. 
The ghoul shuddered, though keeping his cool intact, lost in the depths of your unwavering stare. He slowly slipped back out, releasing your lip for it to snap gently back into place, Hancock satisfied with the knowledge you had swallowed the pill.
“Look at you, bein’ such a good girl for me,” Hancock praised, speaking in a low, sultry whisper. You did not reply, your desire for the man at its all-time high, that warmth in your belly having spread to complement the unparalleled ache of your loins.
“Hancock,” you whimpered, once more tugging at the cloth that bound you. You felt delirious with longing, your heart racing as you saw stars, euphoria overtaking all of your senses. You pushed forward, halted partway by that fucking flag that had you fettered like some common criminal, too blazed to even think about squirming loose. 
“Please,” you begged, lips reaching for his. Hancock evaded you, trailing a divot devoid of cartilage across your sateen cheek, directing it toward your lovely, intact nose. 
“Please, what, sister?” he ruthlessly teased, watching as your tongue tried to skirt his teeth; its vertex barely met its goal. Still, Hancock would return the gesture with a sweep of his own, flitting his against yours, inhaling deeply the scent of Jet off your breath as he was suddenly consumed by an almost feral need to taste your neediness—it was nearly palpable. 
“Please.. touch you? Please kiss you? Please.. fuck your pretty little hole?” he asked in a derisive tone, though his movements were languid, Hancock in no rush to oblige you, even as his veiny hands glided over every inch of your sleek skin.
“Is that what my little ray of sunshine wants?” the ghoul taunted, moving to unbutton the clasp at the top of your pants, then pinching the pull of your zipper, teeth parting to reveal clean cotton. You were nearly embarrassed by how damp your panties were, the chems only making your arousal ten times worse; Hancock wasn’t helping matters, a lecherous moan reaching your ears as the man slid back and realigned himself, bending forward to bury his face in the moist outline staining your skivvies.
“Shit, you’re so fucking wet—” he marveled breezily, “—is it all for me?” Hancock rasped, nipping you through the fabric, a desiccated finger tucking itself into its elastic hem. Hancock dragged it down just far enough to expose your sweet-smelling sex, the ghoul’s tongue slithering easily between slick folds. 
You inhaled a disjointed gasp for breath, voice cracking as you cried out in ecstasy, Hancock having barely swiped your thrumming clit. That alone was almost too much, your hips bucking beneath him of their own volition as you pleaded with him to keep his promise.
“Don’t tease,” you sighed, naked breasts rising and falling with every labored breath. Hancock’s eyes traveled up your fine as fuck body before meeting your gaze, a twisted hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his ghoulish mouth. 
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he snickered, fingers grasping the entirety of your waistband to help you shimmy off your bottom layer of clothes. Your hips wriggled all too desperately, overjoyed to finally be free of their constraints. 
“But that’s not fair!” you entreated, unabashedly spreading your legs in the hopes of providing him a suitable meal, ready and willing to be devoured if you could only convince him to take the plunge.  
“And why not?” he asked in all seriousness, nuzzling into the lush flesh of your labia as his silky tongue entombed itself, gathering your moist heat from its source. He dipped back out to your chagrin—you had inhaled sharply in preparation only to be left disappointed—Hancock licking a stripe to the cusp of your throbbing bud. 
“Because I’ll die,” you replied, overexaggerating, writhing in bliss, albeit temporary; Hancock seemed out to drive you mad, retracting once more to glance back up at you, reedy lips downturned in a disapproving frown. 
“No, you won’t,” he asserted, voice taking on a sobering, sincere quality; even if you were being hyperbolic, after the events that had just transpired, Hancock didn’t find it funny, resolving to dine on you good and proper, as if it would be the thing to save your life. 
“I—” You were cut off mid-thought, lightning crashing thunderously outside, the ghoul introducing two coarse fingers into your clenching cunt as the radstorm raged on. Hancock’s neck sank low as you arched your hips, the flat of a thick tongue bringing you toward rapture as he succinctly lapped your clit in delicious combination, playing you like some Old World violin. 
“Aren’t you glad you’re trapped in here with me instead of out there cookin’ alive?” Hancock asked offhand, digits curling to find the seat of your pleasure, warm, wet muscle dancing slow, precise circles across your sensitive nerves. You halfheartedly yanked at your bindings once more, wishing for nothing more than to ravish him like a woman starved, deprived of sustenance. 
“Yes, yes— please, just like that,” you answered, urging him on, the man encouraged to keep at it, long, languorous strokes titillating you toward release.
Then, he simply stopped, fingers glossy upon exit, Hancock sucking your slick clean off with a scarecrow smile, tilting his head like a curious animal as you bemoaned your plight, left to suffer on the edge of an orgasm. 
“Relax, I ain’t through with you yet,” Hancock remarked, lifting himself up to a seated position on his knees. You whined indignantly, made to watch as he unbuckled and unzipped his own pants.
The rogue stood completely, giving you another show, kicking one boot off after the other before slinking out of the rest of his clothes. 
You took a moment to admire him, skin pockmarked with scars, deep pits of tissue missing where cells had inevitably healed all too quickly, John a mosaic of gnarled, misshapen flesh and keloid. Yet he was so handsome, charming, and cavalier, the man leaving nothing on but his tricornered hat, returning to his previous enterprise by way of interring his roiling tongue into your aching center. 
“Oh, John,” you murmured, voice hushed, the man’s thumb working itself concentrically atop your little pearl. 
For once, he was quiet, his strokes inside you meticulous, the nearly silent room filled with a plethora of obscene sounds as he feasted on you like a Yao guai over a fresh kill. Just a little attention was all it took, nails digging into the palms of your tied hands as you twisted beneath him, vocalizing loud enough you were sure the whole State House would hear.
A shiver rocked you to your core, riding out your climax for as long as you could stand it. You were unable to push Hancock’s head back even if you wanted to, the ghoul finding a new way to punish you, continuing to stimulate your already oversensitive clit. 
“Hancock, please—” you begged him under different circumstances, the ball of your foot gingerly pushing against his blatant hard-on. The ghoul finally let up just enough to chortle dryly, obviously nonplussed.
“Done already? Thought we were just gettin’ this party started,” he flouted, sitting up properly, probing fingers caressing the curve of your slit as they trailed upward, ghosting over your navel to tweak your nipple. They didn’t stop there, reaching just behind you to nab a cigarette off the edge of the coffee table, your expression giving away your confusion as he struck a match to ignite the end.
“No, John— you’re supposed to fuck me!” you berated, another devious little chuckle let loose from wilted lips. The ghoul inhaled a deep drag of nicotine laced with radiation, though the amount contained therein was so trivial he didn’t bat a lash—not that he had any.
He gazed at you through a thin veil of smoke exuded from eroded nasal passages—a short burst of pressure from his lungs propelling it outward—a freakish sight to some, but you had grown accustomed to it. 
“So, that is what you want,” Hancock digressed, snubbing the end of his cig on the floor after a few more laggard puffs. The Jet was wearing off, Hancock having already sobered completely, its side effects leaving you feeling used-up and exhausted. Hancock had forgotten what it felt like to come down from such an intense high; you pouted pathetically up at him.
“Baby,” you whined, immediately capturing Hancock's attention. He dropped the act, eyes softening around the edges, colorless voids somehow the most expressive you had ever seen them.
“What is it, sunshine? Feelin’ all right? Need somethin’ to take the edge off?” he asked gently, concern present in his tone, the ghoul finally being kind enough to reach over your head to free you from your bindings. 
“I need you,” you implored, your speech sounding childishly irritable, tired, heavy arms lifting to wrap themselves around John’s neck; you couldn’t help yourself, having been prohibited from touching him for what felt like hours, when in reality it had only been a short length of time. 
“I’m all yours,” Hancock vowed, whisking a stray strand of your hair away. A soft kiss was pressed into even softer lips; the man was two sides of the same coin, like night and day. Part of you prayed you would never cross him, his temper volatile, like an active volcano lying dormant until such a time the right conditions were met, inevitably causing an eruption. 
But he was also kind, genuine, and a good person, only wanting to make the Commonwealth a better place; he held within him a righteous anger, and for good reason, determined to stick by him through thick and thin. 
"Nice and slow?" you asked, bringing the conversation full circle, ushering the ghoul down on top of you as you laid back, gazing up with heavy-lidded eyes. He searched your face, as if double-checking for something, needing to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing was wrong—you were only sulking. 
“You got it, sister,” Hancock replied coyly, the fullness of a finger returning to you as he tested the waters; you were still so unbelievably wet. It was a stark contrast to the dry, desolate landscape that stretched for miles just beyond his little town, the ghoul humming in gratitude as you kissed him once again. 
You wasted no time, slipping your hand between the depression of your bodies where hip meets hip, his weight a warm, inviting presence that comforted you like nothing else. Your fingers toyed with his variegated shaft, thumbing a bead of loosed pre-cum to moisten its tip; Hancock moaned lustfully as he buried himself deeper into the column of your throat, teeth raking tender flesh, barely withholding the intention to bite.
“I’m thinkin’ you must be the single best thing to ever happen to me,” Hancock confessed in a dulcet whisper, voice quavering with emotion as you carefully escorted his cock inside you, one delicious inch at a time. Jagged breaths found their way into your ear, distorted, ribbed flesh, more than adequate in length and girth, stretching you open, a subdued sound of longing and relief birthed from parted lips. 
“I love you,” you blurted out, unable to keep your feelings at bay, any and all movements ceasing before they had wholly begun.
You had closed your eyes; they fluttered open, fear wheedling its way inside your heart as Hancock gazed at you in silence. You cursed yourself, having never before expressed such a sentiment out loud, unsure how the man would take it, or if he even felt remotely the same—all signs pointed to yes, but you refused to be presumptuous. 
Then, he pushed up into your tight cunt with one slow, smooth stroke of his cock along your anterior walls, stimulating your G-spot. Pleasure radiated through you as you emitted a stilted breath, Hancock cradling your cheek, resting his forehead against yours to stare penetratingly into your eyes.
“Took you to be smarter than this, but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that,” he breathed against your lips, slipping a motile tongue into your mouth, wanting to desperately deepen your connection. 
You readily accepted, your own tongue writhing and contracting in unison with his, heart beating fervently behind a wall of blood and bone. Your fingers clawed and grasped at his narrow shoulders and the tendinous flesh of his back, exploring every inch of your ghoulish lover, from head to jutting hipbone.
Hancock drove his cock into you, back and forth, keeping a steady, equal rhythm like the beat of a drum. “Why now?” he asked, voice tempered, each pump of his thick prick inside you unhurried and sensuous.
“Nearly dying may have had something to do with it,” you jested in-between indecent, muted moans, Hancock’s deliberate pace driving you toward orgasm. The arm not supporting his weight curled tightly around you. He clutched you to his chest, and you wrapped your thighs around his waif thin waist in return. 
“Mmn.. that it?” Spindly fingers moved to grip the back of your head, digging into tufts of your hair; your back bowed to support you in joining with him more fully, Hancock massaging your scalp as he massaged your insides, debauch, rich sounds filling both your ears.
“And because I have nothing to lose,” you reluctantly answered, breath picking up speed as you pushed back against firm, rawboned pectorals with the palm of your hand; you had the intention of arranging yourself at just the right angle to please— a simple slant of your hips would make things all too easy.
Within moments, you came, pinpricks of light overwhelming your senses. You were elated, as if your consciousness had been overtaken by a nebulous cloud of love and electromagnetic radiation, a soul set adrift in a swirling haze of thoughts, feelings and emotions that would amalgamate into something beautiful—it caused you to cry out a sound of intense, heartfelt bliss. 
Your mind went blank, only registering that John had simultaneously shared in the experience. It would take you both a moment to calm.
Then, you squeezed Hancock tightly between your legs, a signal for him to not withdraw, but to stay awhile, the tension in your body settling as you laid back down.
“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Hancock would smother you with his scant weight, caressing the point of your chin, his thumb snaking across your bottom lip. He gave a faint exhalation of breath, the concave outline of his nasal cavity grazing the convex shape of your nose; it tickled.
“Nothing to lose but each other.”
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An Endless Cycle
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2k
Warnings: relationship angst, bucky beating and shooting someone, heartbreak
Summary: Reality comes crashing into you like a freight train and you can't stop it. You're stuck in a cycle that you have no idea how to get out of. You love Bucky, but can you bend your morals to be with him? Is he worth the heartbreak? Are you?
Between Love and Hate Masterlist
Squares Filled: last times/farewells (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Italy had some bumps and bruises but you didn’t let that spoil your good time. Now that you’re back in the States, you’re reminded of your responsibilities like school. Bucky has been more lenient in letting you go to school without Sam or Steve with you since this is your safe space. He doesn’t want to do anything to strip you of this and he’s not going to start now.
“I’ll be back here at three to pick you up.”
“Okay.” You move to get out but Bucky stops you before you can. “What?”
“Get over there.”
Bucky pulls your upper body across the center console and kisses you. Butterflies explode in your stomach at the feel of his lips on yours. This is what you want every day to be like. Just you and Bucky in each other’s arms without the threat of danger to either of you.
“If you keep kissing me, I’m going to be late,” you mutter against his lips.
“Okay. I’m done.”
You pull away but lean in for one more kiss. You get out of the car with a grin before hurrying over to your first class of the day. Your fashion design class is the one you’re looking forward to the most, and Gio smiles when he sees you.
“Hey, you’re back.”
“Yeah. Gio, I am so sorry for bailing on the party. I did want to go.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah. I went to Italy believe it or not.”
“With Bucky?”
You miss the sour tone in his voice.
“Yes. He can be an ass sometimes. Sorry for how he behaved last time.”
You don’t miss the sour look on Gio’s face.
“My dad knew Bucky.”
“Yeah? Through what?”
“Work.”
You’re not sure why but you don’t like the way he says that word. Work. Bucky kills people for work. That means dangerous people after a dangerous man. Instead of diving deeper into that like you know you should, you turn to the front of the class and pay attention to the professor.
“The partners you had for the last project will be your partners for this project. The first step in designing anything is the artwork of the clothes you want to sell. Both of you will come up with six designs. Make sure to include measurements, fabric style, design style, and who your audience is for the type of clothes. You’ll have the entire lab period to work on your designs. You may begin now.”
Gio is a better artist than you so he works on sketching the designs while you come up with everything else. The dress you two made was kind of your idea so you’ll let him have the say on each of the designs for this project. He doesn’t say much except for the occasional, “What color should this part be?” You’re not going to bother him on a topic you know is probably sensitive, so you don’t stick around at the end of class to talk to him.
You walk to the meeting point where Bucky is supposed to pick you up ten minutes before he says he is going to be here. He’s usually early but maybe there is traffic or he got caught up in something. You take a seat on a bench and open a game on your phone to pass the time. Ten minutes turn into twenty turn into forty and then into an hour. Bucky is never this late, and he didn’t bother to call you. You tried calling him three times but he didn’t answer you.
Looks like you’ll have to walk to the nearest bus station, not that you mind much. It’s weird Bucky didn’t reach out to you. While on your walk, you notice dark clouds rolling in. Can you get to the bus station before it starts to rain? No, but the hope was there. It’s not pouring down like you thought it would but it’s not a light drizzle either. You’re soaked to the bone by the time you reach the town where the bust station is. It’s already there letting passengers on but there is a car you recognize across the street from the station.
Bucky’s sleek black Maserati is parked in front of an older-looking apartment building that has clearly seen better days. You abandon your plan of using the bus and head across the street to his car. Why would he and his men be here? It’s fine if he’s busy and couldn’t pick you up, but to not even call you? That’s when it becomes a problem.
The building doesn’t have a working elevator so you have to climb three stories to get to the top. Most doors that lead into the apartments are locked until you get to the top floor. One of the doors is propped open and sounds of pain are coming from the inside. A man grunts in pain when someone punches him in the face. You can hear the sickening crack of his jaw. Your heart pounds in your chest at what you might see but you know you have to do this.
You peek through the small opening of the door and see a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Bucky’s men surround him with guns but they don’t use them. Bucky stands in front of him with his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Bucky pulls his fist back and slams it into the man’s face, causing blood and a tooth to spill from his mouth.
“Spune-mi cine este șeful tău!” Tell me who your fucking boss is! “Unde este lista?” Where is the list?
What list? What is going on? You can’t focus on anything but the way Bucky is being so brutal. You’re brought back to the night you left the first time, and your heart breaks all over again. How can he be so gentle with you but so brutal to everyone else?
“I don’t know,” the man pants. “Please, don’t do this. I have a family.”
Bucky doesn’t hear him. He beats him twice more before taking out a gun and shooting the man in the face. You gasp so loudly that Bucky and his men turn to face you. The look in Bucky’s eyes softens once they see the tears in yours. You can’t keep doing this. You’re stuck in an endless cycle that you can’t seem to escape from.
“Y/N…”
You turn and quickly run back down the stairs. Bucky shouts from above but you’re focused on getting the hell out of here. You’re not a track star or anything but once you start running, you can’t seem to stop. Bucky’s place isn’t far from town since he likes everything to be close to where he lives. You could take the bus but then he might make it home before you do. You could call an Uber but he’d definitely beat you back home. Instead, you run. Your legs feel like they are going to fall off, your lungs burn, and your heart pumps fast but you don’t stop running until you’re back at Bucky’s mansion.
You throw open your bedroom door and stumble inside while panting. You grab a backpack and start throwing shit into it. You should have never gotten caught in the first place. This time, you’ll make sure to disappear for good no matter how much it breaks you to do it. Bucky barges through the front door seconds later and races up the stairs two at a time.
Fuck it. You’ll get all new shit somewhere else. You zip up your backpack and run into the hallway where you run into Bucky’s chest. You shove him away and step around him but he grabs at your elbow to stop you.
“Y/N, wait!”
“I can’t do this anymore,” you cry and yank your elbow away from him. “I can’t be with you knowing you’re out there hurting people like that.”
“This is what I do, Y/N. I am the boss of my mafia. Killing people is how I send a message.”
You flinch not only from his words but his tone. He sighs after realizing the effect his words have on you.
“That man had a family. That man was someone’s father, husband, and son. You just took him from them without blinking.”
“That man had a list of my people his mafia plans to kill one by one. He had intel on everyone on my team. I had to kill him first.”
You sniffle and wipe the tears from your eyes.
“What if it had been you who were tied up? What fi it was your life on the line? What then?”
Bucky walks closer to you with a look made of steel. His voice is cold as ice.
“I am no one’s father, I’m no one’s son, and I’m definitely no one’s husband. You make sure of that,” he glares.
You look up at him as two tears roll down your cheeks.
“And if it had been me who was taken?”
“Don’t.” Bucky immediately cuts you off with such coldness like you’ve never seen before. You scoff and turn to leave but he’s not done with this conversation. “Doll, I am in this life whether you like it or not. I can’t leave it.”
“But I can.” You turn back to him. “I love picking flowers and going to animal shelters just to play with the dogs and cats. If I pass by a baby and a mother in the park, I have to stop just to make the baby laugh. I even stopped traffic once just to help a mother duck and her babies cross the road so they wouldn’t get hit. How do you expect me to react to you brutally killing someone?”
“You were never supposed to see that.”
“Maybe if you answered your damn phone, you might have told me to go straight home! You left me waiting an hour for you at school!”
“I’m sorry,” he sighs.
“Yeah, well, I am, too. I’m going home. My home.”
You turn to leave and see a flash of lightning in the distance followed by thunder. Rain pours down outside, hitting fat drops on the window.
“So, what does this mean for us?”
His words stop you. You can’t look at him or else you’ll break down in tears and never stop crying.
“Are you going to stop hurting people?” He can’t answer because he can’t lie to you. “I have no choice but to leave.”
“Y/N--”
You turn to face Bucky with tears rolling down your face. It kills him to see you in such pain but what can he do? He can’t ever leave this life. He’s in too deep.
“It hurts so much to love you. It hurts knowing you’re doing that when I’m home wishing you were with me instead. It hurts so fucking much, and I can’t do it anymore. I refuse to make myself less than to be by your side.
“Please don’t go.”
Bucky steps closer to you. Lightning strikes again lighting up the dark hallway. You can see pain across Bucky’s face but you need to do this for you.
“Do you love me?”
“You know I do.”
“Would you do anything for me?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me go,” you sob.
“Everything I do is for you!” Bucky yells which makes you flinch but you stand your ground. “Everything I’ve accomplished is for you!”
“Being with you hurts,” you cry. “I can’t give you what you need. You’re not enough anymore. I want more than what you can offer me. I can’t be in love with a murderer.”
Bucky can see how much pain he’s putting you through. How can he claim to love you if he’s hurting you at the same time? Bucky stands up straighter and every bit of emotion is wiped from his face.
“Steve will take you home. I’ll have him bring the rest of your things later.”
With that, he turns and leaves you alone in the dark hallway. You must not be enough for him either because he just walked away like it was the easiest fucking decision ever.
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moodymisty · 1 day
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Hello! I've never sent in a request before, so hopefully I'm doing this right? The Emperors Children and Fulgrim are really interesting in my humble opinion, so it'd be nice to see some content. Honestly something that is either really fluffy or just straight heart ache would be neat. Maybe the reader watching as the man she loves slowly becomes unrecognizable and debauched? I don't know anything really? I love your work! Thank you, and sorry if this is wrong, or request aren't open.
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[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]
Author’s note: I’ve not written for Fulgrim yet, so let’s break that barrier shall we? Here’s a snippet.
Relationships: Fulgrim/Gn!Reader (I will warn that the word nightgown is used twice but other than that zero gendered terms)
Warnings: None really other than the implication of slanesshi corruption I guess, and the implication of Fulgrim once wanting to invite Konrad for a threesome lol
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Fulgrim enters his bedchambers, his armor long since discarded and climbs into the bed softly; crawling over silken sheets and blankets to lay behind you. You lay on your side and he comes closer until his chest is against your back, his legs touching yours. One of his hands raises to cup your shoulder and push the fabric of nightgown aside. Exposing your skin so he can press his lips against your shoulder, he tenderly kisses upwards until he reaches the crook of your neck.
“You seem worried, my dear.”
You tilt your head to allow him access to continue, while your face morphs into hesitation.
You are worried, but you can’t say the reason why; Not the real one.
“I’m just… I'm worried about Konrad. After everything…” You quiet yourself, and pray that Fulgrim doesn’t catch you in a lie. Though it isn't one, at least not entirely.
“Konrad lays in a bed of his own making. Don’t worry about him so much. I said what needed to be said.” You don’t face him, so you don’t hold back your face of sadness and worry as much as you should.
Konrad… Despite all of his issues, has done nothing but trust Fulgrim and attempt to connect with him. The two were quite close; Konrad desperately wanted one of his fellow primarchs to not despise him on first impression.
He was even kind to you, in his own way. He never once intentionally hurt you.
For Fulgrim to shatter his trust like that, destroy the relationship they'd had for many years, he’s changed. It was the final instance you needed to admit it.
But who could you tell? His men are his own and vehemently loyal and even if Konrad was here, he wouldn’t have the ability to understand or even care about why you’re worried.
Ferrus however, would.
You felt horrifically guilty sending such a message behind your lover’s back. But Fulgrim's gradual changes worried you, you've watched him begin to morph into something else, and his closest brother might be the only one who would understand why. His reply is still burned into your mind when you’d briefly managed to tell him something was wrong with Fulgrim without him or any of his Emperor's Children knowing.
When you return to Terra, I will send one of my men to fetch you quietly. Then you can explain yourself to me in private.
You can only hope Ferrus will hear your worries about Fulgrim and see what you mean, rather than cast you as insane. Though knowing him, the mere fact that he’s going to hear you out lets you know he already has his own suspicions.
But before you can sink any further into your own thoughts, Fulgrim's sonorous voice pulls you from them as his fingertips glide across your skin.
“My love, are you still acting so glum?”
His lips tickle the nape of your neck, a hand on your thigh pushing up your nightgown.
“Sorry, I…” Fulgrim laughs, fingertips tickling your inner thighs. You don’t know why it makes you feel a bit nauseous.
“You’re still thinking about Curze, aren’t you?” You nod and agree, if only to make sure he doesn’t get suspicious of you. He lets out a gentle chuckle.
“I’d rather you not think of him while I’m doing this unless he’s already in the room, my love.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. Fulgrim had mentioned a few times about letting Konrad into your bedroom, but you know the Night Haunter would never speak to Fulgrim again. He's long gone; Whatever friendship they had is nothing but ash beneath Fulgrim's boots. And he couldn't seem to care less.
But Fulgrim doesn’t think that, think about how he’s destroyed his relationships one by one while you watched on; He’s too focused on your body and his own.
“Relax. Stop thinking about those pointless things, and let me touch you.”
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ktgoodmorning · 3 hours
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Birthday tears
Ona x reader
Inspired by it being my own birthday yesterday and also by the fact that I almost always cry on my birthday :/
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“Are you sure you don’t have any requests for what you want to do for your birthday?”
You scrunched up your face at the mention of it. Ona had already asked you a few times before but you just kept telling her it didn’t matter, something that didn’t quite seem to satisfy her now that it was the day before your birthday. You just wanted to have a lowkey day with your girlfriend, and not set your hopes too high. Somehow you both ended up with the day off so you planned on getting lunch together and that was more than enough for you. 
The face you had made along with your silence, confirmed exactly what your girlfriend was already thinking. “Why do I get the idea you’re not too excited about it being your birthday?” Ona could tell it seemed to be a somewhat sensitive subject, you instantly deflated a little bit every time she asked and this time was no different. 
“I don’t know,” you gave her a shrug. “I feel like I used to always get so excited for it but then my family would always let me down or something bad would always happen and I just always end up with shitty birthdays. So now I kinda just try to get through the day.” 
It wasn’t a big deal, you were more than used to it at this point. You’d finally come to terms with the fact that your birthday was never quite as fun as everyone hyped it up to be so it was easier to set that expectation from the beginning. Although from the way your girlfriend’s face fell, you could tell she didn’t feel the same way. 
“But baby it’s your birthday! You don’t have to be worried about that because now you’re spending it with me and I’ll make sure that you have a good day.” You let out a sigh, shaking your head slightly that she couldn’t quite understand, made evident by the huge smile plastered on her face.
Ona brought a level of sunshine into your life that you weren’t always used to. Even birthdays that you spent with people you loved always ended up having something go wrong that ruined your day. Somehow, no matter what, no matter how much you enjoyed parts of it, you never failed to cry on your birthday. There was always something. 
You grabbed her hand from where she sat across the table from you, interlocking your fingers and giving her a sympathetic smile. “Oni, I know you’re going to give me a great day, it’s not a personal thing, I just always cry on my birthday. So I just don’t want you to get your hopes up, it just happens.”
Her smile softened as she brought your hand to her lips. “Well baby, I will do my best to give you a good day, but if it doesn’t go as planned, that’s okay. We’ll handle it, we’ll do whatever you need, you just tell me how you’re doing, okay?” Her words were so simple, but somehow it was the most perfect thing she could’ve ever said. There was no pressure for things to be perfect, no pressure for you to love everything, just a promise that she’d do her best for you. 
When the next day came, it was clear that Ona was planning on delivering on her promise. Your girlfriend was sure to let you sleep in, holding you in her arms as long as you wanted, being careful not to move too much or do anything to risk waking you up. Everyone knew how much you valued your sleep so this meant more to you than almost anything else could. You cherished the time you got to spend cuddled into her side, safely protected from anything that could ever hurt you. 
You were only awoken by the light streaming through your curtains and Ona’s hand softly tracing over your skin. “Happy birthday, baby,” her voice was just a whisper, still not wanting to wake you up too quickly. You only responded with a groan into her shoulder as you rolled so you were laying directly on top of her, face completely buried in the crook of her neck. 
Her arms tightened around you. “We can stay here as long as you want, just tell me when you get hungry because I have the stuff to make you breakfast.” 
“Ona, you have no idea how much I love you.” 
She let out a breathy chuckle at your words, obviously the way to your heart was just sleep and food. You laid in her arms a little while longer, taking in her presence while you continued to wake up. 
This was the time you valued most. Your favorite thing about having time to sleep in wasn’t actually the sleep itself, it was the time you had to just lay together and not worry about the chaos of your daily lives. Time like this allowed you to just be. To exist with no outside expectations. Together. 
Eventually, when you got tired of just laying there doing nothing, you rolled off your girlfriend and stretched your arms. “Why don’t I make you some breakfast?” Ona leaned over to kiss your cheek with a lazy smile stretched across her face. 
“That sounds perfect, Oni,” you chased her lips to get the kiss you wanted. “I’ll come join you in a minute.” 
The brunette shook her head at you as she got out of bed and threw on an old t-shirt of yours. “No need, I’ll bring it in as soon as I’m done, you just stay comfy.”
The solitude gave you a moment to take in her actions. Ona was so, so good to you, you couldn’t even believe it at times. You weren’t used to the way she pampered you or the way you didn’t have to have your guards up around her. You were used to watching what you said and being somewhat careful that you didn’t set off those around you, but not with Ona. If anything, it was the opposite. She wanted to hear what you had to say, even if it wasn’t perfect, especially if it wasn’t perfect. It was a miracle you ever got lucky enough to call Ona yours, but you’d forever be grateful for it. 
The smell of your breakfast wafting through the apartment was all it took to get you up. You’d considered waiting for her like she said, maybe reading some of your book, but decided you couldn’t be apart from her any longer, especially not when she was being so sweet. So you slowly got out of bed and got dressed before making your way to the kitchen. 
You took a moment to pause in the doorway, just taking in the site in front of you. Ona was standing at the stove wearing only your t-shirt with her hair in her classic messy bun. She had one of your favorite playlists playing softly in the background while she hummed along, dancing slightly as she went. You couldn’t stop yourself from greeting her with a hug from behind, wrapping your arms around her and setting your chin on her shoulder gently. 
“Hola, baby,” she craned her head to press a kiss to your cheek. “I told you, you could have stayed in bed.” 
“Hmmm, I know. I just wanted to see you.”
“Well,” she turned in your arms to face you, pressing her forehead against yours, “I’ll  always be happy to see you.” Your girlfriend started peppering your face in short kisses, leaving them everywhere except where you wanted her most.
“Onniii, just kiss me,” she smiled at your whining but still made no effort to appease you. “Please, it's my birthday.” 
“I suppose since it’s your birthday,” Ona gave you a big smile before moving to give you a real kiss, one that was deeper than you were expecting. You held onto her hips and pulled her in closer, humming into her mouth as one of her hands made its way to the back of your neck. The two of you were lost in each other, completely engulfed in the shared contact, until you were rudely interrupted by the smell of your pancake burning on the stove. 
“Oh my god, Ona, the food!” you immediately pushed her back towards the stove. You started giggling at her panic as she tried to get the food off the heat as fast as she could and minimize the damage. While your girlfriend remade your breakfast, the two of you worked together, dancing around the kitchen, singing to the music she had playing.
Even though it shouldn’t have been, somehow it was still perfect. Nobody besides Ona could have so much fun while remaking your burnt food. This was how everything was with her. It was exactly her way of fulfilling her promise to you. Even though something went wrong, she would still give you her best and somehow make it seem not so bad, almost as if it had been the plan all along.
 
Your day with her after that went perfectly. You spent plenty of time after breakfast cuddling and more than cuddling… 
After which she took you to your favorite restaurant for lunch where she ordered your two favorites, so you could share them both and you wouldn’t have to decide on only one. Even better, she made sure not to tell any of the wait staff that it was your birthday as you both knew you’d die of embarrassment if anyone were to publicly acknowledge it. This way the two of you could just enjoy your birthday in peace together until you saw your friends later in the evening. 
After eating, you stopped by a park on your walk home. It was a beautiful day so the two of you spent some time wandering through the flowers, hand in hand, reminiscing on the past few months of your relationship. You hadn’t been together all that long, less than a year, but it still felt like so much more. Something about your relationship worked perfectly. You just clicked. 
“Want to sit in the sun awhile? We’ve got plenty of time.” 
Ona’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You nodded at her as she led you to the bench nearby, the perfect spot to watch the people going by and take in the beautiful scenery together. “So,” she turned to face you, “do you want your present now or later tonight?” you gave her a skeptical look. “It’s up to you, baby! I know you’ve had some bad birthdays so I just wanted to leave it up to you, whatever you want.” 
If her words didn’t do it, your girlfriend’s precious smile made you absolutely melt. It almost made you tear up at how much she cared for you, how considerate she was. You still weren’t used to it. 
“I would love to open it, Oni, but you know you didn’t have to get me anything, this day has been more than enough.” 
She gave you a short peck on the lips. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” You watched her dig around in her pockets before pulling out a small box. It wasn’t quite small enough to be a ring box, but it was definitely small. Just as she passed it to you, she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Open it, baby!” 
You gave her a shy smile, starting to share the same excitement she had over the box in your hands. You gave her one last look before hesitantly pulling open the top of it, letting out a shaky breath when you saw the contents. In your hands was a dainty gold bracelet with a gold bar in the middle of the chain, with the words “I love you” engraved across it. 
“Ona, this is beautiful.” your voice was breathless, in awe of how thoughtful she was. 
“You deserve it. I know you like jewelry like that and I thought it could be a little reminder in case you ever forget how much I love you.” You weren’t sure it was possible for her to get any sweeter but somehow she always managed to. “And I wasn’t sure if you’d notice, but the words are in my handwriting, so that way you know it’s truly a message from me anytime you look at it, no matter where I am.”
The more she spoke, the more you felt the tears start to pool in your eyes. You truly couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. You couldn’t even find the words to thank her as much as you wanted to, she was better to you than you knew how to explain. 
“Oh no, baby you’re crying!” You hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until she pointed it out but for some reason it made you chuckle, shaking your head slightly at the irony.
“Sorry, it’s just funny,” the confusion was clear on your girlfriend’s face, not sure what to do about the weird laughing/crying state you were in. “I told you I always cry on my birthday and here we are, but now it’s happy tears. And I’ve just never had that before.” Ona visibly relaxed upon hearing that you weren’t upset with her.  “I don’t know how you put up with me though, especially when I’m an emotional mess like this.” 
“Well I’m glad that’s the cause of the tears today, but you deserve it baby, you really do. You deserve the absolute world, this dumb little gold bracelet is nothing.” She took the bracelet out of the box and reached for your wrist to clasp it on for you, interlocking your fingers the second she did. Ona made sure she had your full attention before continuing on. “I love you. I love you and not in any unrealistic or nonexistent version of you. I love you for you, and all of your flaws and emotions and everything else. You are so easy to love. And I wish you could see that.”
If you weren’t crying before, you certainly were now. You were basically sobbing at this point but still because you were overcome with joy. Overcome with joy and love. Love for the girl sitting in front of you who was the most perfect girl in the entire world. 
You basically launched yourself into her arms, a blubbering mess over how grateful you were, hardly making any sense. Your words were a mess of “thank you”s and “I love you”s in both English and Spanish. But Ona didn’t care if you didn’t make any sense, she would hold you and love you either way, even if you couldn’t quite understand why.
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