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#I don’t feel comfortable for the most part
tacticalprincess · 1 day
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ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^
very im on fire of him
könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.
its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.
simon’s weird, quiet coworker, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.
he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.
“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”
after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”
“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.
“allow me—?”
“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”
his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.
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f1goat · 2 days
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roommates ; lando norris + part four
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In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
masterlist - playlist
lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!
When you wake up that following morning, you’re confused for the first few seconds about which room you’re in. This is not the guest room from Lando his apartment. Slowly the morning fussiness inside you clears up. The events from last night come back to you. Lando was screaming and making sounds all night, which caused you to check it out. He had a nightmare. You awoke him. After another stupid remark from Lando, you decided to watch some television with him - in his bed. Did you fall asleep in his bed? Shit. Carefully you look next to you. When you look and notice Lando, who’s still peacefully asleep, you realize that you did fall asleep next to him. 
The part that sits with you the most right now? It feels weirdly comfortable to lay next to Lando in his bed. It scares you. The wise thing to do is to get out of his bed, get back into your own and forget about this situation. Although you already know that Lando will bring it up eventually. You don’t want to leave his warm bed, but you don’t see another option right now. So, carefully you turn yourself around and move away from Lando. It’s only now that you notice how close you were laying to Lando. 
When you get away from the blankets and take your first move to get out of the bed, you’re quick to be stopped. It’s Lando who’s stopping you. He’s quick to grab your arm and to stop you from leaving his bed. “Not yet,” he softly mutters while pulling you back to himself. You notice how much deeper his voice is in the morning. Fuck, his voice is hot like this. Slowly you give in and move yourself back underneath the blankets. You know that this isn’t smart, but you can’t help yourself. Lando is quick to get you into his arms. It feels weird to lay into his arms like this, but in some even weirder way it also feels really nice. Lando wraps his arms around your body. 
You allow yourself to fall back asleep in Lando his arms. This is an one time thing, you keep reminding yourself. This can’t happen again. That means you better enjoy it for how long it lasts. Lando however tries to stay awake this time. When he notices your closed eyes and peaceful  deep breaths, he can only focus on how to get you in his bed again. He needs to experience this more often. Or even better, this should become the new normal. 
Eventually Lando can’t stop himself from falling asleep again as well. Before closing his eyes and giving in, he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. You have turned yourself completely into his body. Lando feels his underwear tighten around his crotch. Feeling your body onto his own like this will probably be an image that he won’t forget about quickly. 
When Lando wakes up again, you have left his bed already. 
+++
“You’re actually insane,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Who in their right mind is going on a date with their ex boyfriend?”
“It’s not a date,” you sigh with the same annoyed tone as Lando was using earlier. 
“Not a date?” Lando asks you sarcastically, he almost laughs at you for the remark. “You’re going to a restaurant to have dinner with your ex boyfriend. Doesn’t that sound like a date to you?”
“Why do you even care,” you ask Lando with a raised voice. The annoyance is obvious in your voice. You know that Lando does have a point, but you can’t tell him that. Right? Earlier today your ex called you. Which seemed weird to you, since the last time you spoke to him was a couple months back during the break up. He told you that he still had some of your stuff which he wanted to give back to you and that he wanted to apologize. You have no idea what stuff he still has of you, but you can only hope that it’s the sweater you have been missing for a while. It was the most logical idea to meet up somewhere. The worst idea was to invite him into Lando his apartment and you also didn’t want to go to his place, so you settled for a restaurant. Exactly like your ex wanted.
“Why shouldn’t I care?” Lando asks you back.
“Because you don’t care about me,” you are quick to slap back. 
Lando can’t stop himself and lets out a loud laugh. It almost scares you. “You’re really stupid,” he tells you while laughing. 
“Great!” You tell angrily. Now he really crossed a line with you. “Stupid, insane, what else do you think of me?” You ask him with the same angry tone in your voice. 
Lando holds back a lot of words right now. It takes a lot from him to not start to scream at you what he actually thinks about you. What a stupid question. It’s not like he thinks that you’re insane and stupid, but he does think that about your idea of going to dinner with your ex. Normally Lando thinks you’re the most beautiful, smart, kind and many positive things more, girl he knows. Although he does think you’re a bit bratty, but in some way that only makes you more attractive in his eyes. He wants nothing more then to fuck all of that brattiness our of you, only for it to come back every time again. That would be the best. 
“Sorry,” Lando sighs with a more calmer tone in his voice then before, “I don’t think you’re stupid and insane, okay? It’s just that I think that this idea is pretty stupid and insane. He’s your ex for a reason, you can’t date him again.”
“You’re not deciding things like that for me,” you tell him angrily. After those words you turn yourself around and start walking towards your own room. You’re really not in the mood to stay with Lando any longer right now. An annoyed groan leaves your throat, it’s not like you think this is a date - although you have no idea how to call it otherwise. And it’s really not like you want to get back with your ex, but you do want to stay civil with him. 
“Don’t walk away,” Lando yells after you. 
“Why not?” You yell back, “So you can insult me even more?”
After those words you slam the door of your bedroom shut with a loud bang. Lando sighs when he hears the door slam. He almost slaps himself. How is it that every time things seems to be going alright between you and him, he finds a way to fuck it up? He thinks about following you and trying to apologize, but eventually it seems a better idea to let you cool down for a bit. 
In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for later tonight. You have no idea what to wear and how much time to spend on your make up. Of course, you do want to look nice, but you don’t want your ex to think that you did that for him. This is complicated. Eventually you pick out a dress and put on a light make up look. You still have some time left. Since you’re not in the mood to clash with Lando again, you decide to relax for a bit on your bed and watch some TikTok’s. 
When you do come back in the living room an small hour later, it doesn’t take long before Lando his frustrations comes back up again. He feels himself getting mad all over again. This time it’s caused by the way you’re looking. Why are you dressed this nicely for a date with your ex? He starts to doubt if you do want him back. It sure does seem like it. Lando can’t look away from you. Earlier today he called you insane, but now he’s pretty sure that he’s the insane one. All because of you. You’re making him lose his mind. 
You notice the way Lando is looking at you. The frustration is clearly displayed on his face. Is he still mad? You felt like you were calmed down about it, but seeing Lando staring at you like this makes your frustration come back as well. 
“You look good,” Lando eventually tells you with an annoyed tone. Before you can ask about his tone or thank him for the compliment (?), he’s already talking further. “Too good,” he adds.  You want to ask what he means, but when you see the notification coming up on your phone you decide to let it be. Your ex is already here. 
“I’m leaving,” you tell Lando, “Bye.”
Lando hurries himself after you when you walk away from him again. Quickly he grabs your hand. “Just be careful alright?” He asks you. 
His behavior confuses you. What does he mean with this? It’s just your ex, not some criminal. Or is this still because he thinks you’re stupid? “I wonder if I can,” you bite, “I mean I’m pretty stupid after all.” 
“That’s not what I meant,” Lando sighs annoyed, “Just call or text me if you need help.” After those words you’re quick to walk away from Lando. Everything about him confuses you. Fuck. Maybe you’re getting insane, Lando makes you lose your mind. 
 +++
This day won’t get any better. Your ex boyfriend did bring your lost sweater, but that’s the only positive thing so far. He’s going on and on about how much he misses you. At first it was kinda sweet, but now it’s just annoying. You didn’t break up with him without a good reason, so you don’t feel tempted to act out on his pleas. Not that he asked about getting back together, but you suspect that the question can come anytime. 
Maybe Lando was right, this is weird. You should have bought a new sweater instead of doing this. He did already send you multiple messages, maybe you should text Lando to help you out of this situation? You almost laugh at your own dumb idea. Lando will probably text back something in the lines of: “I told you so.” He isn’t going to help you with the mess you created yourself.
It’s a shame Max isn’t around. You try to remember why your brother isn’t in Monaco right now, but you don’t remember the reason right now. You do however remember that you really need to meet up with him soon, you haven’t seen him for a bit. 
“Don’t you miss me as well babygirl?” Your ex asks you. His questions shakes you out off your earlier thoughts. No, you don’t miss him. That isn’t the strange thing you’re feeling right now. It’s his last word. Babygirl. He never called you that before. He wasn’t one for nicknames like that. Since when is he calling you babygirl? It feels weird. 
It takes you a short minute before you can say why it feels weird. Normally it’s Lando who calls you babygirl. Shit. Is this really feeling weird because you’re used to Lando? 
“Please don’t call me that,” you politely tell your ex. He gives you a strange look. “Earlier you begged me to give you a cute nickname?” He asks confused.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “When we were in a relationship.”
His remark reminds you about why you broke up with him the first place. Yes, he was your boyfriend but often it didn’t feel like it. He was always too busy to make time for you. Which wasn’t that bad, until you noticed that he had time for everyone else. The romance just wasn’t there. When you thought about your relationship after the break up, you were quick to realize that it was a more friendly situation then a relationship. 
And maybe, really maybe, your meeting with Lando confused you as well and made the breakup happen sooner. When you first saw Lando, he made you feel something that you never felt around your then-boyfriend. But that will no one ever know.
“But I do want to get back with you in a relationship,” your ex confesses, “I can make more time for you, I can figure out some cute nicknames and we can be together again.”
“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” you carefully reply. Everything he just said, is nothing you want. You don’t want to spend more time with him, get his attention and certainly don’t want to be together again. 
“What do you mean?” Your ex asks you confused, “That’s what you wanted right? More attention, a more loving relationship?”
“Wanted yeah,” you tell him, “I don’t want that anymore.”
“Then what do you want?” He asks you frustrated.
“I don’t know what I want,” you confess, “but I do know that it’s not you, sorry.” 
You tried to tell him so polite as you could, but apparently it made him still angry with you. Fuck. This really was a bad idea. You notice another text from Lando popping up on your screen. Should you text him back? You unlock your phone and read Lando his texts.
Lando Norris: I meant it. Text me if you need me.
Lando Norris: How are things going?
Lando Norris: Babygirl?
Lando Norris: Just tell me if you’re okay
Since when does Lando care this much about you? It makes you shiver, but not in a bad way. That’s not a good sign. You want to reply to his texts, but your ex is already snatching your attention away again. 
“Who are you texting?” He asks you annoyed. Before you can answer, he’s talking further. “Is it your new boyfriend?” He continues to ask. 
“New boyfriend?” You ask confused. Does he think you have a new boyfriend? Why would he even think that. 
“Yeah. Maybe it’s that Lando guy, that wouldn’t surprise me.”
The venomous tone in his voice reminds you about the other reason you broke up with him. The jealousy. It’s crazy now you think about it. On the on hand you were having the feeling that the two of you were barely friends, let alone lovers, but on the other hand your ex was always jealous. You remember multiple fights between the two of you, even one about Lando. You almost laugh if you think about telling your ex who you’re living with right now, but you don’t tell him. You don’t want to fight. 
“I don’t have a new boyfriend,” you tell your ex.
“Then why won’t you want to get back with me?” He asks you angrily. 
You don’t like the angry tone. He has no right to act like this. “I don’t like you like that anymore,” you tell him annoyed, “and I don’t even know if I ever did.” The last part of your sentence wasn’t smart, but you feel yourself getting mad as well. 
“Bitch,” you ex hisses angrily. 
For a few seconds you doubt about your next move should be. Are you going to get into an argument with your ex or are you leaving? His words make you mad, but you know it isn’t smart to get into an argument with him here. Maybe this is the moment to text Lando, he offered to help you right? Maybe he can pick you up? 
“I’m going to pay for my part and then I’m leaving,” you tell your ex eventually, “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about left.” In the mean time you pull out your phone again, you open your chat with Lando and quickly type something. 
y/n: can u come get me? I’m at Amù
You press send, but you have no idea if the text is actually being send. The screen has turned black. Shit, you didn’t even know that your battery was low. What if the text didn’t send? With an annoyed sigh you get up from the table and walk towards the server so you can pay for your part. Then without looking back at your ex, you leave the place. In all irony it’s also starting to rain. What a shitty day. 
Within the second that Lando got your message, he’s in his car. The restaurant you’re at isn’t that far from his place thankfully. He tries to get to you as fast as he can manage. Breaking multiple traffic laws in the mean time. 
“Come on let me take you home,” your ex says angrily. He’s standing outside with you, much to your annoyance. You don’t want him to be here. It’s pouring rain in the mean time. You realize that you must look awful now. Your dress is sticking against your body, your make up is probably ruined. You can only hope that there isn’t anyone around who knows your name or brother. The Instagram posts are already formed in your head. 
“No,” you reply.
“So you’re going to stand here stupidly?” He continues to ask. 
“I’m getting picked up.” At least, you hope so. 
When Lando arrives at the street from the restaurant, he’s quick to spot you. You and your ex. He has never seen the guy before, but he can’t take his time to look at him. He quickly parks his car across the street and jogs to you. When he looks at you, he realizes that you are all soaked. Before he can say anything to you, your ex is talking at you. Lando didn’t expect that your ex would be still here as well.
Lando takes a good look at your ex. He never saw the guy before. It’s been a while since you dated him, but Lando is certain that he never met him. He knows that Max wasn’t a fan of the guy either. 
“See!” The guy says angrily. “Fucking slut,” he continues with a raised voice, “you’re already dating someone else. And even worse, it is him! You lied to me.”
“We’re not dating,” you sigh. 
“Yet,” Lando can’t withhold his remark. “And don’t call her that again.”
You send Lando an annoyed glance. Is he here to help you or to make things worse? Even though, you can’t stop the weird feeling in your stomach after he just said that. Why are his words having such an impact on you? And why is Lando talking about dating you? Could it be possible that he wants to date you? You’re getting confused by what’s happening.
“Are you going to deny that she is a slut?” Your ex asks Lando. 
“Come on babygirl, we’re leaving before I’m going to lose it,” Lando mutters annoyed. He already feels himself getting angry with the guy in front of him. He gives you his hand, which you thankfully grab and wants to take you with him to his car so you can get home. 
“So that’s why I couldn’t call you that,” your ex remarks, “your new boyfriend has dibs on that name.” 
“Not my boyfriend,” you state again. 
Lando almost adds another ‘yet’ again, but this time he holds himself back from doing it. 
“Oh just for the sex then?” Your ex asks, “That does seem more fitting for a slut like you.”
Before you can even say something back, you’re already busy with pulling back Lando. What is going on? Lando has let go of your hand, only to use it to form a fist which can hit your ex boyfriend in his face. Fuck, he did actually punch him. You’re quick to grab Lando his arm and to try to take him with you. 
“Let’s go Lando,” you mutter, “He isn’t worth it.”
“He called you a slut!” Lando almost screams. “Two fucking times.”
“I know,” you sigh, “Let’s leave please.”
Your ex is furious right now. He’s balding his fists as well and seems ready to take revenge on Lando for his earlier punch. When you see the fist of your ex coming at Lando his face, you don’t think about your next action. You quickly pull away Lando, which caused you to stand in front of the upcoming fist from your ex. When you feel it hit your cheek, you let out a gasp from the impact. It’s not a hard punch, but you’re still shocked. 
Lando reacts within seconds. He carefully looks at your cheek, making sure that the impact wasn’t big. Softly he pushes you to the side before he grabs your ex by his neck. “I swear to fucking god,” Lando says with a voice so low it almost sounds dangerous to you, “you better make sure that you’re never close to her again, because the next time I see you too close to her, I’ll fucking end you.” You wonder what he means with that. “I’ll make sure everyone knows what a pathetic loser you are,” Lando continues, “and that you’ll never have a chance with a girl, or with a job or with whatever ever again.” He lets your ex go and watches him quickly walk away. 
“Are you alright babygirl?” Lando asks you worried. He is quick to get you into his arms and to inspect your face again. It doesn’t look to bad thankfully. 
“I think so,” you softly tell Lando. 
“Let’s get you home,” Lando replies, “I have some ice there, hopefully it will stop the swelling.”
When you’re seated next to Lando in his expensive McLaren, you remember your horrible state. You must look like a mess. Your dress is soaked, your make up is running all over your face and even worse, you also feel like a mess. 
“It turns out you were right after all,” you sigh.
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Sorry that I dragged you into this,” you apologize towards Lando. 
“Rather be sorry that you ever dated someone like him,” Lando replies, “I’m pretty sure there’s someone better around for you.”
“Someone like?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Lando chuckles, “Someone who’s ready to punch another guy for you maybe.”
And again, Lando confused the hell out of you. 
a/n; thanks everyone so much for all the kind reactions so far 🫶🏻 love reading them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
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danikamariewrites · 2 days
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The Hand Thing (SMUT)
Eris x reader
Note: I feel like this is unnecessarily long but I will never pass up an opportunity to drool over Eris soooo that’s whats’s happening here. I’m also a huge slut for Mr. Darcy and the hand flex video came up on my TikTok so blame pride & prejudice for this one. This is part of the Corrupt story and I have linked Kisses and Romance Books :)
Warnings: mentions of oral sex, fingering
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Eris’s hands are enchanting to watch. They’re strong and powerful, directing the Autumn army as their general and wielding the fire that runs fiercely through his veins.
They’re elegant in the way he writes, his calligraphy nothing less than perfect. Elegant in the way he ties and buttons his clothes.
But those slender, pale freckled fingers are most enchanting when they hold you. You feel so at peace in Eris’s embrace. His hands mold perfectly to the curves of your body, gripping your hips and the nape of your neck. They make you feel at home when he rubs circles on your back and threads his fingers through your hair. And when you're cold or in pain, Eris uses the fire in his veins to comfort you, heating his hands.
Now, sitting across from Eris at his grand oak desk, you watch as Eris flexes his fingers as he thinks. Balling his fist, resting his chin on the top of it as he lets out a sigh.
You just wanted to reach out and hold the tense limb. To press soft kisses across his knuckles. As you continue to think about your mates hands your thoughts divulge into dirty and depraved. Wanting more than him to hold you. Wanting…no.
You two haven’t done more than kissing and Eris eating you out. Your cheeks heat at the thought of your activities from a few days ago. While the feeling of his mouth against your pussy was euphoric, you couldn’t help but think about his hands squeezing at your things. The small bruises he left behind from how hard he dug the tips of his fingers into your flesh.
Letting out another aggravated sigh Eris leans against his high back chair. Not noticing that you’ve been staring intently at him for the last thirty minutes.
His hooded gaze traveled from the papers in front of him to your untouched book.
Those beautiful amber eyes landed on your face, noticing how your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth. Your own gaze focused on his large hands. “Something on your mind, little fox.” Eris teases. You let out a hum, snapping back to yourself. “Sorry my love, did you say something?”
Eris smirked at the airiness in your voice, flexing his hand, rubbing his jaw. You noticed the veins bulge a little on the back of his hand. Eris noticed what you were honed in on finally. His smirk grows at the realization.
His fingers curl, beckoning you to him. Plopping yourself in his lap you don’t hesitate to hold the hand that’s been your focus for the past hour. You lightly run your fingers across his palm and tracing up his fingers. Eris watches you with a love sick look plastered on his face.
He was already taken with you when you first met, but after becoming mates Eris knew he was done for. He couldn’t get enough of you. The male was truly in love with you.
“I want to know what they feel like.” You say, your voice just above a whisper. “What what feels like, my heart?” He asks softly. Meeting Eris’s russet gaze, your cheeks heat. Your lips part slightly as you try to get your words out. “Don’t be embarrassed heart, you can tell me anything. Promise.”
Inhaling deeply through your nose you let out a sigh. “I-I want your fingers, like in my romance novels. But like that thing you did with your mouth,” you rambled on, the signs of Eris’s arousal going over your head. The male could only stare at you wide eyed, lips slightly parted. The hand that rests on your hip tenses, grabbing your attention. “What?” You ask innocently.
Eris shook his head, still in disbelief. He was so proud of you for asking for something instead of waiting for him to show you. Slowly but surely he corrupting his sweet innocent mate. Making you needy for him and him alone.
“I’m happy. Happy that you trust me and want to explore these things with me.” You light up at his words, holding his hand to your chest. Batting your eyelashes at Eris you ask, “Can we now? I want Er, so bad.” You punctuated your words with a pout. Mother above, this is not going to make what Eris has to say next hard.
He folds your hands in his warm ones, bringing them to his lips, placing soft kisses across your knuckles. “Unfortunately we can’t right now, little fox.” You frown damn near broke his heart. “I have to finish work but tonight, I promise. Ok?” You nod and he pecks your lips as a thank you.
——
After dinner you wait for Eris in his bed chambers. You had brought extra clothes for tomorrow so you wouldn’t have to creep back to your rooms in the morning. Even though you were right next to him. Still, you didn’t want to be spotted in your nightgown by the maids.
You perched yourself on the middle of his large bed, picking at the soft cream comforter as you waited. The bond in your chest thrummed. Eris was close. As he got closer and closer you felt that wonderful warm sensation grow. The first door opened and you perked up with excitement.
As he opened the bedroom door you jumped off the bed, running and flinging yourself into his arms. Eris scooped you up effortlessly, hugging you to his chest as he walked back to the bed. Laying you down Eris propped himself on his elbows above you. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips. He feels your smile against his lips, using his tongue to prod your lips open.
Pulling away Eris presses kisses to your cheeks and nose. “You look exquisite little fox.” He murmurs, eyes drifting down your cleavage to the lace and silk clinging to your form. His fingers lightly tracing your thighs that are still sporting bruises, though faint, from the last time he was between your legs. “Are you ready?” Eris breathed out.
“Yes,” you practically whine. Smirking, Eris slowly moves down your body. Running his hands up and down your thighs, the tips of his fingers flirting with the hem of your nightgown. “Please.” You beg him.
Eris pushes the silk up past your belly button pressing more kisses against your hips. Closing your eyes at the sensation you miss his hand move to your clothed core. Eris starts to rub your clit in small circles. You suck in a sharp breath, your hips jolting.
As soon as Eris could feel the wet spot on your panties grow he sticks his hand down your panties. His rough fingers touch your clit and you gasp. Your eyes flutter open to watch his movements. “Off,” you moan.
“What was that little fox?” Eris teased. “Take them off, p-please.” Another moan slipping between your tightly pulled lips. “Of course little fox.” Eris pulled your panties down with ease, tossing them to the floor.
His fingers return to your pussy, running his fingers through your wet folds. A growl sounds from Eris’s throat at feeling this new part of you. Last time Eris had neglected to dip his fingers in you, obsessed with the taste of you.
Eris slid one of his fingers inside you. Curling against your walls to get you used to the feel of him. And the feel of him was amazing. Much better than your own and even better than what you had imagined Eris’s fingers would be like this afternoon.
You go limp against the bed, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders. You moan as he adds another finger pushing all the way in to his knuckles. “Eris, that feels so good.” You breathe out.
He drops his face to your neck, licking and nipping to keep you stimulated. Your hands fly to his hair to tug at the firey strands.
As his fingers curl against your g-spot you feel his thumb press hard against your clit. Your mouth opens in a silent scream. Eris rubs your clit as he keeps thrusting his fingers. A moan falls from your open mouth right next to his. “So tight fox. You’re doing so good for me.”
You squeeze around his fingers making Eris groan. That feeling at the bottom of your stomach growing, a knot about to snap as Eris keeps pleasing you. “P-please Eris, please, please let me cum. Your fingers feel so good, please.”
Cauldron, your sweet begging is going to be the end of him. Eris loved you like this.
“Go ahead sweet fox. Let go, I got you.” He says sweetly. A few more pumps of his fingers had you coming all over his perfect hand.
Coming down from your high you hugged Eris to your chest. Not ready to let go of him just yet. His weight comforting on top of you. Eris pulled his fingers from you, lightly kissing up your jaw as he sat up. You watch with wide doe eyes as Eris licks his fingers clean of you.
You grab his hand, attempting to pull it back down to you but he was unmoving. “More,” you whimper. Your eyelids looked heavy as you blinked up at him. How were you so tired from just this, he thought to himself. Cauldron, what would you be like the day he actually ruins you with his cock?
“Not tonight, little fox. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed yeah,” Eris scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. Ready to pamper you and keep you in his arms all night.
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cameronluvr · 2 days
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BABY TRAPPED PART 2 — dark!rafe x fem reader
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summary: you finally gain the courage to tell rafe the news, but things turn aggressive once you find out he replaced your birth control pills.
warnings: teenage pregnancy, mentions of forced pregnancy, fighting, arguing, manipulating, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, blackmailing, choking, toxic!rafe, dark!rafe
: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ PART 1
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some days later, you gain the courage to tell rafe. you stayed up most nights thinking for hours about what to say, and how to say it. you rehearsed hundreds of different ways in your head, but all of them terrified you.
was he going to be happy? was he going to be angry? you had no idea.
you sit on your bed, staring at rafe’s contact number on your phone. you’d been staring at it for the past 5 minutes, being too anxious to call him. ‘i need to get it over and done with’ you thought to yourself.
and with that thought in your head, your thumb presses on the call button. your breathing sped up, and your fear sank in as you watch it ring. seconds later, he picks up.
“hey” he says.
“hey rafe.. uh.. do you think i could come over? i need to talk to you about something… it’s kinda serious” you hesitate to explain.
“yeah sure, everything ok?” he asks. “uh— i’ll just talk to you when i get there… bye” you quickly say before pressing the red button to end the call, not even giving him chance to say anything else.
you didn’t want to have this conversation over the phone. you needed to see him in person, so you hopped off your bed and jogged downstairs. you call out to your parents to let them know you’re going out and that you wouldn’t be too long, you wouldn’t dare tell them you were going to see rafe.
— you arrive at tannyhill around 20 minutes later, rushing to the front door only to be greeted by ward when you knocked. “y/n… are you here for sarah?..” he asks awkwardly, knowing you are going through a rough patch with rafe, and that you two were considered done for good. “no, uh.. i’m actually here to see rafe..” you reply, seeing him raise his eyebrows.
“rafe!” he calls out to his son, who is already making his way downstairs. “hey y/n, come in” he says, stepping in front of his dad and placing his hand on the door, motioning for you to come inside with his other.
ward rolls his eyes and walks away, knowing you two are on and off constantly. but he obviously didn’t know the real reason you were here.
“rafe…” you gulp, looking at him with teary eyes as he shuts the door. “baby— y/n.” rafe corrects himself, remembering you aren’t his girlfriend anymore. “come on, let’s go upstairs” he says, holding your hand and guiding you to the stairs.
in the back of his mind, he knew the reason you were here. he was the one who replaced your birth control pills, after all. he knew you’d come running to him crying in no time. he smirks as he walks behind you going up the stairs. you can’t see his face, but he is proud. proud that his plan definitely worked. why else would you be here?
once you reached his bedroom, rafe shut the door behind you. “what’s up? come, sit” he says, walking over to his bed to sit down, patting the space next to him.
you walk over and join him on his bed, feeling oddly comforted by his behavior. he isn’t usually this soft with you, especially not when you’re going through a breakup. “rafe.. i, uh-” you stutter, trying to explain.
“i don’t know how to tell you this but uh…” you say, shaking and trembling as you slowly pull 3 positive pregnancy tests from your jacket pocket. rafe looks down at your hands as you reveal them to him.
“i’m pregnant.” the dreaded words came out of your mouth, expecting him to be angry, confused, or upset. but he wasn’t. he reached his hands to yours, gently taking the tests from you to see them for himself. you watched as a smile appeared on his face, shocking you a bit.
“you’re pregnant?” he asks, happy and shocked, pretending he had no idea this was coming. he stood up now, pacing around the room and sifting his hand through his hair, taking in the news that he was going to be a dad.
“yeah…” you say, sniffling and rubbing your nose. “baby, don’t be upset” he calmly says, his tone as soft as ever as he sits down next to you again, this time closer, pulling you into a side hug to comfort you.
“how can i not be upset?” you ask, tears falling down your face now. his smile suddenly dropped. “why are you upset?” he frowns now, pulling away from the hug, confused as if you were supposed to be happy or something.
“we’re not together, rafe. i don’t even know how i got fucking pregnant in the first place, i’m on birth control! i knew those damn things were a stupid scam” you quietly yell, like a loud whisper, letting out your frustration but not wanting the whole house to know your business.
rafe waits a few seconds before answering, watching you as you sob next to him. “were you on birth control?” he asks with a suspicious tone, making you frown your eyebrows and look at him. “what?” you ask, sniffling.
“you sure you were on birth control?” he asks with a smirk on his face now. what the fuck is he talking about? “rafe, what?” you ask again, widening your eyes and waiting for an answer.
“maybe, just maybe,” he starts, standing up from the bed to stand in front of you. “maybe what?” you start to get frustrated. “maybe i swapped your pills for fakes. maybe i didn’t” he shrugs, acting like it were no big deal. your face dropped.
“you did what?!” you yelled, standing up now, coming face to face with him. “what the fuck is the matter with you? why would you do that?!” you yell, demanding answers.
“because i want you back.” he simply answers, no other explanation.
“you want me back? so you get me pregnant?!” you’re yelling now, not caring if his family hears or not. “okay. will you take me back?” he asks, knowing your answer.
“no!”
“and that’s why i did it.”
he is cruel. he had this planned out for god knows how long. “rafe, what the fuck?!” you scream at him.
“having a baby with you means you’re stuck with me forever. and that’s what you get for running away from me. running off with the pogues” he smirks, leaning closer to your face to torment you. you harshly shove him away from you, making him angry.
“don’t fuckin’ do that” he shoves you back, much harder than you did, making you stumble backwards. “ow, rafe” you frown, about to hit him before he grabs your throat, squeezing it hard.
“don’t you ever fuckin’ push me like that” he warns as his fingers tighten around your neck, cutting off your ability to breathe properly. “rafe…” you struggle.
“i got you pregnant on purpose, baby. and you’re not gonna do anything about it. let this be a lesson to you” he roughly pushes you away by your throat, letting go of it as you gasp and catch your breath.
you look at him with quivering lips, tears forming in your eyes as you try to find words to say. “i-,” you huff. “you’re a fucking psychopath” you say, shaking your head at him as tears fall from your eyes.
“don’t call me that.” he raises his hand to you, making you flinch. you don’t say or do anything back, you just stand and cry as he looks at you, sighing loudly and rolling his eyes.
you couldn’t bare to be in the room with him anymore. “i’m leaving.” you say, attempting to walk past him but he steps in front of you, stopping you. “no, you’re not.” he tells you. “yes i am, rafe, now move” you try to push past him again, but he grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him so that your bodies are against each other’s.
“why? so you can go get an abortion? get rid of my baby?” he asks, knowing that was likely your first thought. “you know what, yeah! i can’t have a fucking baby with you, rafe!” you start to yell again, making him grip you harder, his fingernails digging into your skin above your clothes.
“well, you are, so” he shrugs, making a face as if there was nothing else you could do, no other choice you had. “you seriously want a kid, with me? what do you even know about kids?” you ask, wanting to know his whole thought process behind this.
“i know i’d be a better father than mine ever was.” he says. “i doubt that” you scoff, finding his words amusing. “you doubt that? what, you think i’d do the same to my son what he did to me?” he asks, frowning, you both know his dad wasn’t the best. he had a favorite child, he cherished her, and didn’t acknowledge his other two — and look how that ended up.
“no, i don’t, rafe,” you sigh. “then why don’t you give me a chance?” he asks before you can finish speaking, making you sigh again. “because we’re supposed to love each other before we have a baby together, and that went away a long time ago for me…” you explain, knowing it would hurt his feelings but you wish he’d just sympathize with you for a second.
“i love you…”
“no you don’t, rafe.”
“yes i do”
you don’t say anything. you just accept the fact that he isn’t going to change his mind. you sigh, realizing you literally have no way out of this. you couldn’t tell anyone. your parents would be ashamed, they’d probably scream at you and kick you out of the house. then what? you’d be pregnant with nowhere to go.
the room fell silent for a second. you hear him huff through his nose. “y/n, i do love you. i promise you. i can show you that, i promise i’ll change and be better for you” he says, his grip still on your waist, but less aggressively now. he’s holding you now, just like how he used to.
but you’ve heard those words a thousand times. he never changes, and never keeps his promises. “rafe…” you gulp, not wanting this to happen. you don’t want his baby, you want to get rid of it. you can’t raise a baby, you’re not even 20 yet.
“baby, it’ll be alright. shh, come ‘ere” he says, pulling you into a hug when he notices you crying again. you quietly sob into his chest, feeling him reach his head down slightly.
his mouth was next to your ear. “you’re not gonna get rid of this baby, m’kay?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine. his hug felt more like he was strangling you, you felt like you couldn’t breathe in his arms, or even in his presence.
“but—” you cry.
“shh…” he strokes your hair. “if you even try to get rid of it, i’ll do something i really don’t wanna do, okay?” he quietly threatens into your ear, gripping you tightly again to hurt you, with all intentions of hurting you worse if you go against his wishes, maybe even your friends, too. or your family. he’s going to teach you a lesson either way. sooner or later, you’ll be his.
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PART 2 AHHHHH. part 1 got so many likes hellooooo???! thank you guys so much for supporting me!!! i’ve gained nearly 50 followers in just 2 days of posting! <3 i really hope you guys like this part, OFC rafe has to be as toxic as ever :)
@cameronluvr
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pupyuj · 2 days
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we need more gf yujin... Mean gf Yujin well kinda cause we all miss babyboy Yujin.
🐝 (new anon)
i see the word “babyboy” and that’s all i focus on 😭 just realized i haven’t posted a drabble in a while so i’ll take a look in my asks and see if anything else catches my eye 🤓 (my neglected asks in the drafts r crying rn) n e ways welcome 🐝 anon! 💕💓
p.s. sub top yujin save me—
babyboy yujinnie dating older!reader… a wild puppy has been tamed! 😭 her friends are the first to notice that yujin doesn’t behave the same around you as she did with her previous partners! perhaps even tho that two of you were dating, she was intimidated by your maturity and how wise you were but really she was just whipped as fuck! whipped to the point of literally worshipping you? well yes! 🤤 she’d try to be as serious as you are but ultimately end up failing bcs you told her that you like it better when she’s silly, aka herself 🥴🥴
don’t be fooled though! as willing as she is to drop on her knees and do anything and everything for you, babyboy still tops 🤭🤭 she has this obsession with being your most perfect pet! making sure to memorize every inch of your body and find out which parts make you moan her name the sweetest, or the loudest… 😳 fucking you gets her rlly turned and by the time you’re shaking bcs she’s given you your sixth orgasm of the night, yujinnie would be so, so drenched but she ignores her own needs bcs all she wants to do is hear her name fall from your lips, feel your nails ruin her scalp, scratch at her arms, and hold her hand 🥺
and don’t get me started on pussy drunk babyboy yujin that finds all the right opportunities to eat you out wherever the two of you are! in your office? check. at some parking lot in the back of her car? check. a random bathroom stall? check. a private booth in an unnecessarily lavish restaurant? hell yes, check 😵‍💫 yujinnie knows how to ask nicely and that’s what she does 98% of the time bcs not only is your pleasure important to her but also your comfort 🥺 however… when her feelings are too strong, she simply just puts her hand in between your legs and start kissing your neck.. she knows it was a weakness, and her lips spread into a shit-eating grin every time it works 🙄💕
and those big puppy eyes of hers that she stares at you with as silently asking for permission every time she’s ‘hungry’?? they look 1000% better when they’re looking at you from in between your legs! 😍 yujin’s heart skipping several beats as she looked at your expressions while she does her work with her tongue.. she’s making you feel so good and she’s so proud of herself! 🥺💓 every time you praise her, she just wants more.. and so she gets better and better the longer she eats you out… not stopping even when your voice was all hoarse from screaming her name..
yujin doesn’t actually care if you crush her head with your thighs or suffocate her by pushing her face so close to your pussy that she almost can’t breathe.. it was the perfect way to die! 🤭 she only stops when you’ve tapped out, or told her to stop, or when she knows you’ve had enough.. but even then she’d give your pussy little kitten licks just to tease you bcs she loves hearing your whines since you get so sensitive 🥺🥺 ah and she works so hard drinking up all your cum, finding your taste as delicious as her favorite sweets, perhaps even better 😵‍💫💓
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loonylesbian · 1 day
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ok i am very much so not a writer, or at least not creatively. but i had this idea and i couldn’t get it out of my head so i decided to write it out. it ended up being 6.1k words so feel free to not finish it cause i’m sure it’s not good. however if you do read the entire thing i hope you like it and don’t clown on me too hard. long story short either you’re welcome for this or i’m sorry for this. there is no inbetween
naked in manhattan // k. martin
10 years ago
“Kate can you believe it! We’re starting high school!!!” you scream, hugging your best friend on the last day of summer. If you were being totally honest, you were nervous never being good at making friends, always relying on Kate for that. Her being so outgoing and friendly, it’s not that you weren’t nice, you really were, if anyone asked Kate would say that you’re the sweetest person she’s ever met, you were just shy. Talking to just about anyone made you nervous, in fact, you had a short list of people who didn’t make you nervous.
“I know! It’s gonna be great, I’m gonna do my best in basketball and volleyball, and you, my little genius, are gonna be the best in every class, and make tons of new friends,” she reassured you as if she could feel the nerves radiating off of you in waves. You were grateful for that, she had always been able to know exactly what you were feeling and how to help, even if you didn’t. It was one of your favorite things about her, sure there were too many things you loved about her to count, but that was one of your absolute favorites.
“I promise I’m gonna do my best to make it to each and every single game of yours,” you told her holding up your pinky while looking up at her, she giggled and interlocked her pinky with yours in a pinky promise, something you have insisted on doing since you met. You swore that it was more real than a regular promise, and made it to where the universe let the promise happen, not just the people involved.
“Well if it’s a pinky promise, I know you're never gonna miss a game,” she replied with a smile reserved just for you.
7 years ago
So far your promise had held, not without some struggle, but you had still attended every game Kate had for both sports she played, and just about every other game she just wanted to watch. There were a few games where you were late because of your job, studying, or other things that had gotten in the way, and the two times where you sat as far away from everyone else as humanly possible because you didn’t want to get them sick but also didn’t want to miss Kate’s game, but for the most part you sat right at the front to cheer on your best friend.
After the game tonight you guys were gonna have a sleepover as tradition for Friday night games, whether it resulted in a win or a loss. Either way, you usually ended up in her arms bringing her comfort, whether that be her knowing that she deserves it because she played well and won to bring her down from that high or wishing she had done things differently to change that loss and you reassuring her that it wasn’t all her fault, because as far as your were concerned basketball was a team sport and a loss couldn’t hang solely on one person's shoulders. After all, you were her number one supporter, never failing to let her know how proud of her you are and how much you love her no matter how she feels. You made everything feel okay for her, but it was the least you could do, afterall she did that and more for you.
when i sing that lana song it makes you cry
On the drive back to her house listening to the radio, she couldn’t help but look at you as much as she could without crashing the car. She couldn't help but feeling like she was was really listening to the song for the first time as you were singing along to “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray. She didn’t quite know what it was but when she looked at you and listened to you singing she couldn't help but feel her heart race and her body flush, she swore she could listen to you forever. Had someone told her in that moment she would never get to hear you sing like that, she would swear she’d cry And if anyone asked, she would tell them she liked girls, it wasn’t like it was a secret, and she’s had crushes before, she knows what it feels like. But she never thought she would have a crush on you, purely because you were her best friend, she couldn’t do that, it could ruin your friendship. That wasn't something she was willing, or at least wanted, to risk. A friendship that you've had since kindergarten, although now that she thought about it, it was basically a lesbian right of passage to fall in love with your best friend and-
mean girls we watch every night, and we both have a crush on regina george
“So wanna watch Mean Girls?” you ask abruptly interrupting her thoughts. Truth be told she’s glad that you did, it was probably best that she didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. Little did she know she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t having completely friendly thoughts about the other. She was just the only one who wasn’t in total denial about liking girls in the first place.
“Obviously. As if we would watch anything else first,” she replies with a scoff as if it were crazy for you to even ask. Although, to be fair it was crazy of you to ask because that was the first movie you watched anytime you had a sleepover, and it had been that way for years.
“Sorry. Sorry. I forgot you had a crush on Regina George,” you said with a small chuckle, brushing off the twinge of pain you felt at the idea of Kate having a crush on anyone else, even if it was a fictional character from a movie. Because why would you be sad or jealous about that? She was just your best friend, right?
Kate flushed even more red at this comment if that were possible with the combination of the game she had just played and watching you. Even though it was chilly outside and in the car, in that moment it felt like it was 100°. She wasn’t sure if it was nerves or joy that was causing her to feel that way, but she did. In that moment life was perfect, the chill in the air, the rain falling around the car they sat in, the now soft music coming from the speakers, and most importantly you. She wished she could stay in that moment forever, just taking you in, stuck in that perfect moment forever. She let out a slightly nervous chuckle, lightly biting her lip, before she replied, not wanting to break the peace she felt.
“Okay, okay, don’t act like you don’t have a crush on her too. I know you have a thing for blondes.” She finally lets out trying to wave you off and ignore her pounding heartbeat, all while trying to steal another glance at you. What she doesn’t notice, however, is your face flushing or your fists clenching when she says that as if she uncovered a deep dark secret, that you hadn’t told anybody. And to be fair that’s exactly how you felt, you did have a crush on this mean girl and you did have a thing for blondes, but you hadn’t quite come to terms with that yourself, let alone talk to anybody about it. So if anyone asked, the blondes you had a thing for were blonde guys, but you were hoping nobody would ask. Even if that person was Kate, your best friend.
And you didn’t notice her grip on the steering wheel tighten a little bit, waiting for a response. Hoping you would do or say anything to acknowledge what she had said, telling her she was right or wrong, waving her off altogether, laughing. She waited for any acknowledgment of what she had said for the rest of the ride home, but it never came. Instead, you changed the subject all together after sitting in silence for a few minutes. You hoped she didn’t notice that, but she did.
And so you followed your typical Friday night game routine, going to her house, watching Mean Girls, finding yourselves tangled up together but never acknowledging it, and then turning on some other random show or movie before falling asleep. Still in each other's arms. Still, just best friends.
6 years ago
Today was the day, the last full day before your crush best friend was leaving you. Ok well not you per se, but she was leaving. And yes you were also going to leave and go even farther in a few weeks, but that’s beside the point. It still felt like she was leaving you and it just didn’t feel right. You couldn’t exactly put into words how or why you felt so badly about it, but you did. Maybe the fact that you had never been apart for longer than a week played a part in it. Sure, you were both gonna go off and hopefully live your dreams, but it just didn’t feel right to do that away from each other. However, she was going to Iowa and you were going to New York and there's nothing you could do to change that now. And you did genuinely think about going to Iowa instead, but New York was your dream, so when you got into culinary school there you decided to go. You knew you loved it and you knew that New York was a great place to start, not to get started on the fact that it could take you literally anywhere you wanted to go. That didn’t make the decision any less painful though.
“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you whispered in Kate’s ear giving her a hug. You honestly don’t know why you’re saying it right now, it’s not like she's leaving right this second, but you still need to say it, and you’ll probably say it about 1,000 more times before you actually have to say goodbye in the morning after your final Friday night sleepover, even if it didn’t follow a game you guys have grown into the habit of doing this almost every Friday night. She squeezes you tighter if possible when she hears this, trying to burn that moment into her memory, knowing she loves you but it’s too late to do anything about it now, at least not anything serious. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, to admit her feelings for you after years of friendship less than 24 hours before you guys go to different states for college. It would be cruel, and she told herself it would almost be more cruel if you felt the same way about her. She knew that you came to terms with being queer, at least enough to admit it to her and yourself, what she didn’t know is that a big part of that was you coming to terms with being in love with her. But still, it was too late and she had to let that be.
“I’m gonna miss you too,” Kate said with a big sigh before releasing you, muttering a quick “more than you could know,” under her breath, hoping you didn’t hear. Happy when you showed no indication of hearing the last part.
“But we still have a whole afternoon/night to do all of our favorite things together before I leave. And we can go get our favorite breakfast in the morning,” she said with a more upbeat tone, poking your sides slightly, trying to lighten your spirits too. Slightly succeeding when she saw you perk up a little, putting a small smile on her face.
“Okay, okay, so what do you say to popcorn, Mean Girls, and a bunch of candy?” you asked, slightly mimicking her accent. She replies with an eager nod. Grabbing your hand and pulling you to her room after making a pit stop for the snacks, failing to notice the blush that covered your cheeks. You simply follow her rushed pace, happy you decided to wear sweats and a tank top, as opposed to something like jeans to lounge around in.
By the time you were about halfway through the movie, you found yourself wrapped in her arms, like usual. But for some reason not knowing when you’ll see her again after this, and the cheesy high school coming-of-age movie in the background made you a little more confident. Not super confident to where you would outright tell Kate that you’re in love with her, but confident enough to try and hint at something, which is more than you’d ever been willing to do with anyone else. So that’s what you do. Especially after spending years denying your feelings, and almost a whole extra year hiding them.
“You know what sucks,” you start off looking up at her waiting for any kind of acknowledgment. She finally looks down at you with a light “Hmm?”
“I’m about to go to college and I haven’t even had my first kiss,” you say unable to stop your eyes from glancing down to her lips. This statement took her off guard, sure, you had never talked about anyone, guys or girls, but you’re you and she figured you had your first kiss and in your typical shy fashion, you just hadn't wanted to bring it up.
“What? No way!” she says laughing a little only realizing her mistake when she saw your face drop.
“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t get how you of all people haven’t had your first kiss yet!” she exclaims “I mean you’re literally perfect, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, you’re a great cook, I mean you're my favorite person in the world. I just don’t get how no one’s kissed you yet!” she finished off her little rant with a small huff.
“Well no one’s wanted to,” you mumble looking down a little bit, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.
“That’s not true,” she mumbles quieter now than she had been before, suddenly feeling almost as shy as you while taking you off guard. It was pretty obvious what she meant, no hidden meaning laced in with her words, unable to pick her gaze back up to your eyes once they dropped down to your lips.
“I mean would you?” you question with a little more confidence once you notice where she's looking. You can’t help but follow her lead and look down to her lips, before going back up to her eyes, even though she still wasn’t looking.
touch me baby, put your lips on mine
“It doesn’t have to be weird or anything, it's just you’re my best friend, and I’ve never kissed anyone, and you’re leaving tomorrow and I don’t want to go to college without at least having my first kiss,” you kind of spit out hoping you don’t sound pathetic or desperate, or make her want to kick you out.
“Would you want me to?” she questions back, already knowing your answer but just wanting to ask to know that you were sure.
“Yeah, I’d like that” You rush out in a kind of whisper to her nodding, so she nods back to you. You can both tell that you’re nervous, each for different reasons. All it takes for you to start leaning into each other is locking your eyes again. In that moment she looks like an angel, with the soft glow of the lamp making her hair look even more golden than usual, to the way she was looking at you, not to mention how you felt about the grip she had on you. You barely even had time to actually look at her before her lips crashed onto yours. And that’s exactly what it felt like in that moment, like waves crashing onto cliffs, a completely overwhelming feeling, yet still, it brought you a newfound sense of peace. She pulled you as close to her as possible, knowing that this may be the only time you get to do this, not wanting to be even an inch away from you. At this point you were basically straddling her while she was leaning up against her headboard, both wanting nothing more than to be together, knowing you couldn’t.
You had never kissed anyone before but thought to yourself that in that moment that if this is what it is like you never wanted to stop. Kate had kissed people before, and you knew that, but what you didn’t know was that none of those felt anything like with you. They couldn’t compare. Not by a long shot. If she didn’t know how much she loved you before, she definitely knew now. The only issue is that she knows this, it’s gonna make it even harder to leave you in the morning.
By the time you guys pull away breathless from a mixture of kissing, nerves, and giddiness, you can’t help but feel at peace, resting your foreheads against each other’s. Sure you knew that nothing could come of this, that nothing would come of this, at least not right now. But you were happy. Happy that you got to show her how much you love her in one small way, one new way. Happy that you got to know her, and happy that she felt the same way about you. Even if you guys didn’t necessarily talk about it, or say outright say it, you both knew that was always one of the best things about your friendship, you didn’t have to actually talk in order to communicate and get your point across, and even when you did need words you didn’t need many of them.
So when you guys make eye contact again you come to a silent agreement, you have that night, and the next morning to talk if you want. You know you love each other, but also that there's realistically nothing you can do for you to start a relationship at that moment and have it work out. Not when you were about to be nearly 1,000 miles apart. It wasn’t right to risk it. And you both know that you’re too important to each other to risk your friendship, especially when almost all of the circumstances are pointing to it not working out. So, you have that night, after that, you’re friends again, maybe not even best friends, and if it works out you can be together in the future when you can be closer. But for the time being this is for the best, this is safe.
April 2024 || Present Day
It had been years since you and Kate had last seen each other properly, there were brief passings when you were both in your hometown that resulted in short conversations, but you were both barely there, you less than her, and when you were your family made sure you never went longer than 20 minutes without them other than to let you sleep. You had stuck to being friends, not best friends, just friends. Never talking about that night, your last night together. Not wanting to risk it, not yet. Other than that, you guys have managed to text each other occasionally to check-in. Keeping each other updated on your lives, but not close. It was as if you had both come to the understanding that you should keep a certain level of distance so as not to ruin what you had. Knowing that if you talked more, you would’ve talked about what could have been more. And you just couldn’t risk it.
id love if you knew you were on my mind, constant like cicadas in the summertime
That’s not to say that you didn’t keep an eye on her and her basketball. You had been her #1 fan since day one, and even if you didn’t talk or see each other as much as you used to, you wouldn’t let that change. You still felt the exact same way when you thought about her, even if you tried not to. Even when you knew you shouldn’t. You just couldn’t stop thinking about her. While you obviously couldn’t go to all of her games anymore, you still watched every single one, even when you were at work during them you would try to either watch it on your phone or record it and watch it when you got home later. You even managed to take off work for both the Final Four and the Finals this year to watch her and her team, even if you didn’t make it in person, you still had to watch the games live. And once you heard that she had declared for the WNBA draft you had to get a ticket for that, it was perfect, it was in Brooklyn so you didn’t have to travel more than taking the subway. And this time you told yourself that you would talk to her, not go up to her at the draft but you would text her and let her know that you were gonna be there if she wanted to meet up after, or at any point while she was in town. You would make an effort to see her. You really didn’t know when the next time you’d get the chance to see her again would be, it’s been so long since the last time, partially due to schedule, partially due to nerves, and you were about to move across the country to Las Vegas for a new job. You figured it was now or never, and you really hoped you would get the chance to see her so you could get her out of your mind.
You knew you had to try. Try to talk to her, try to see her, try something. You couldn’t stand it anymore, constantly thinking about her, you needed closure, even if there wasn’t necessarily anything to get closure about. You still had to try. So even though you had grown up a lot in the past six years, you had learned to start a conversation instead of stuttering your way through when someone came up to you, gotten more friends, and most importantly gained confidence and figured out a pretty good idea of who you were. You were nowhere near as shy as you used to be, but still the mere idea of Kate brought back butterflies that made you feel like you were in high school again. Frankly, the feeling had to be classified as something stronger than butterflies. So obviously the idea of calling her went out the window for you, you figured she was so busy anyway that she probably wouldn't answer, and you told yourself that if she chose not to answer a text it would hurt less than not answering a call. And after a lot of thinking and rewriting, you finally sent her the text.
“Hey Kate, I heard you’re gonna be in town for the draft and I know you’re probably busy but I would love to see you. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been keeping up with your games, I’m so proud of you, still your #1 fan, and can’t wait to see where you go. I’m gonna be at the draft rooting for you, just like I have been every step of the way even when I couldn’t physically be there. So if you wanna meet up after the draft or at any point while you’re in town let me know.”
Once you hit send you waited, and waited, and waited. Once it hit six hours with no response you figured you weren’t going to get one. Now that you had sent it, you realized that it was more nerve-wracking to sit and wait for the possibility of a response than to try and figure out what to say and hit send. Every possible reaction she could have had to your text was running through your head, well not every one, just every bad one. You didn’t know what she was thinking, or how she thought anymore, and that was terrifying to you. The nerves were so bad that to anyone watching you probably looked like a mess, flushed cheeks, sweaty, a little hunched over, and very clearly looking nauseous. But you were fine, it was no big deal.
You lied to yourself, it still hurt that you didn’t get an answer, but still decided to go to the draft anyway. Even if she didn’t want to see you, you still wanted to support her, figuring it was a big event and the chance of you seeing each other let alone talking were slim to none. You could go and didn’t have to talk if she didn’t want to. Plus you didn’t want to waste your money after you already bought the ticket and more than anything you wanted to support her, she was your first friend, your best friend, so far your most important friend, and now she's about to be a professional basketball player. You had to be there to see it come full circle, after spending the better part of ten years being able to count the number of her games you hadn’t seen on one hand, and saying you were her #1 fan, you just couldn’t miss it. Not for you, and certainly not for her.
By the time you had actually gotten to the draft and it started you were so focused on listening for Kate or her name, you couldn’t focus on anything else. You couldn’t hear anything that wasn’t related to her. You were confident that she was going to get drafted, but there was still a “what if” sitting in the back of your mind knowing your heart would break for her if she didn’t, maybe more than hers. Then you heard it, “With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select Kate Martin, University of Iowa.” you were so focused on her getting on a team that you didn’t think of the city she might end up in. You wish you could hit rewind when you heard it, almost not believing it. She got drafted to the Las Vegas Aces, you would be in the same city for the first time in 6 years. There could be a chance of you guys actually happening. Of course, she still had to go through training camp and make the roster before she was officially on the team, but you have no doubt that that’s going to be the easy part compared to everything else that it took to get to that moment. Not to mention text you back. When you’re finally able to focus again, there have been a few more picks you decide to go on your phone and check Twitter to see what they are saying about the draft. What you didn't expect to see when you opened your phone, however, was a message from Kate.
🏀Kate 🏀
“Hey, sorry I didn’t see your message or get back to you earlier! I’m so happy that my #1 fan came to support me just like you have been all these years. It means the absolute world to me to know that you came here for me tonight because I wasn’t even sure I was gonna make it. I haven’t been on my phone like at all today, but I’d love if you’d come celebrate with me and my friends tonight? It only feels right that you’re there, you’ve been there for pretty much everything else already, you should be there to celebrate now too.”
When you read the text you could’ve sworn your stomach quite literally did flips, while a giddy feeling erupted through your body, even releasing a small, relieved, laugh. At this point, the last thing you were expecting was to get a response, at most expecting to go to a bar close to your apartment for a drink or two, if you were feeling frisky. But upon seeing her text, you decided “Why not?” and decided to respond.
“Yeah of course I’d love to celebrate with you and your friends!! You deserve it after all the hard work you put in to get here. Just send me the time and place and I’ll meet you there.”
You tried to keep your response short and sweet, not trying to read too much into what she said or trying to seem too eager. Although, you were quite excited to actually see her and have the opportunity to talk to her again. You figured it wasn’t guaranteed that you were even going to talk more than a simple greeting, let alone that she would want to talk about what happened the last time you spent any substantial amount of time together. Hell, you weren’t even sure you’d stay longer than half an hour. But before you could dwell on it too long, you got a response, with nothing more than an address and a time.
//
By the time you show up, which is 20 minutes late due to nerves alone, you are sure Kate had forgotten that she had even invited you. What you hadn’t expected was for everyone to automatically know who you were, greeting you excitedly. You thought at most one, maybe two people would vaguely know who you were, but you didn’t expect all of your friends to recognize you and know pretty much everything about you. Including things you were pretty sure you hadn’t told Kate when you would catch up.
But that’s exactly what happened, all of her teammates knew who you were, Jada, Gabbie, and Caitlin, even people she barely knew. Never in a million years did you think that she could possibly talk about you that much. You didn’t think there could possibly be that much for someone to talk about regarding you, let alone that anyone would want to, especially after 6 years of limited communication. Yet it warmed your heart, it made you happier than you had been in a long time, to know that she talked about you, that she cared about you enough to talk about you that much. Jada went as far as to say,
“We finally get to meet you after her nonstop talking about you for I don’t even know how long. We were starting to think Kate made you up,” before giving you a hug in greeting. You could tell from that alone that she was an absolute sweetheart.
new crush, high school love again
By the time you had been able to talk to Kate for any substantial amount of time, it was clear that you both had a few drinks. Neither one of you could help yourselves from embracing each other in a long overdue hug, slightly rocking as she lightly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but feel like you belong there. You had always felt like you belonged when you were with Kate, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Like you had wasted time not being there. You never wanted to leave her side again. You didn’t think you could stand it. At that moment, hugging each other again for the first time in you don’t know how long, you both felt like you were in high school again. You knew she still gave you butterflies, but in that moment you could have sworn you fell in love with her all over again.
“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do it,” you whisper while pulling away from the all-too-long hug. Looking up at her, you were filled with an all-new type of butterfly, a bird maybe. Filled with a sense of joy knowing she was happy to see you, and a sense of contentment knowing that you were going to be in the same city again, for the first time in years. Knowing that you know each other, without really knowing each other. In a sense you know each other, you kept each other updated on the big things, relationships you were in when you talked, basic interests, but you didn’t know what really mattered. You didn’t know the little things, the day-to-day, the highs and the lows, and you missed that. You missed knowing the one thing that made her day unbearable, or the one thing that got her through the day. It was always you, to this day. But she wasn’t willing to tell you that yet. She loved you, and you her, and you both knew that, but you only knew that past tense.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she says into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. You had officially fallen even more in love with her than the last time you saw each other, and you barely talked yet. And just like no time had passed, able to see the change in your demeanor, she grabbed you by the hips before looking into your eyes.
“I’m serious y’know? I really wouldn’t be here without you. You made it all worth it,” she pauses, eyes briefly scanning the room. “Every time I felt like I couldn’t do it, you made sure to tell me that I could. You made it clear that you believed in me, but you weren’t ever gonna push me into something I didn’t want. Even when you weren’t there I still thought of you. Thought of what you would say, how you would make everything better. You got me here baby,” she finishes off. Her eyes found their way back to yours while she talked, the intensity of her gaze alone could melt you.
“Even though I wasn’t there I never missed a game. I watched every single one, even if it was just a recording. I'm still your #1 fan, and I can promise to never miss a game of yours in the WNBA now either. I’ll even be at all the home games,” you smile up at her looking to see if she caught onto your words. You can see her trying to figure out what you meant, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion as she was thinking before a smile eventually broke out on her face.
“What? Are you moving to Vegas?” she asks, her volume growing with each word. She grabbed you by the shoulders before lightly shaking you in disbelief. As if trying to figure out whether or not this was really happening.
“Yeah, I got a job there and I’m moving at the beginning of May,” you say laughing at her clear excitement. To her it felt like she was about to burst, this is what you had been waiting for, this was a sign. It wasn’t planned and neither one of you had any idea it was going to happen, but you were going to be together again.
the rush of slumber party kissing
“I can’t believe it! Are you joking?” she asks looking down at you for any hint of a lie coming from you, but she found none, so she continued. “Like we’re actually going to live in the same city? This is amazing, I can’t believe it.” and then it slips out, she doesn’t mean to say it, but she does, “We could try. Like we could actually be together, for real-” By the time she realizes what she said she was looking at the floor and couldn’t bear to try and meet your gaze. After all, she basically just confessed that she was still in love with you after 6 years of barely seeing or talking to each other.
“Really? You’d want that?” you ask her, grabbing her face and lifting it to meet your eyes. You couldn’t believe she wanted you, after all this time she still wanted you. So you did something Kate never in a million years thought you would’ve done, you kissed her. She wasn’t sure where your confidence had come from whether it had been her basically admitting that she never moved on from you, or the drinks you had, or just simply you growing up and actually being more confident. But she couldn’t think about that now. Now she had you in her arms, for the first time in years. She had you in a way she thought she had missed out on because she waited. And in that moment she knew she wasn’t going to let you go ever again.
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Burn [Joel Miller]
this is my entry to Em's On Repeat Drabble Challenge by @dancingtotuyo. thank you so much for letting me be part of this and I am sorry for this took so long—life kinda got in the way—anyway, thanks for introducing me to Zach Bryan and for doing this amazing challenge.
Inspired by Burn, Burn, Burn by Zach Bryan
pairing: joel miller x reader
wordcount: 1K
warnings: none really
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Joel Miller hasn’t let himself feel anything for a long while—not like this. 
For years he’s been a fortress of solitude—feelings locked away, emotions a luxury he couldn’t afford. Yet, in the midst of the chaos and the infected, moments slipped through—fragments that caught him off guard. Moments that reminded him he was still human, with a heart capable of beating.
Moments that often revolved around you.
When he met you, Joel wasn’t on a quest for companionship nor was he seeking an ally. Yet, there you were, bathed in the early spring mist—your presence painted with a brush of quiet desperation he knew all too well. Bruised and with a limp, you had asked him for help. And for some goddamn reason he couldn’t—wouldn’t—send you away.
Thus, you stayed, just long enough to recover, or so the plan went.
But plans, in times like these, are as fickle as a sudden summer breeze rustling the treetops.
Joel quickly learned that you were resourceful, observant, unassuming, and quiet on your feet, yet spectacularly precise with a rifle—a skill he discovered only days later when you came to his aid.
Since then, the two of you had faced near-death scrapes, saving each other’s lives more times than he cared to count in the short span you’ve traversed the landscapes together. This proximity, this forced closeness—it’s only natural that he finds himself curious.
It’s normal that most evenings, Joel finds himself watching you. The way the campfire light dances across your focused face, the methodical way you clean your gear. It’s calming, he finds, and scarily comforting. He hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t wanted it—perhaps that’s what makes it all the more dangerous.
Still, Joel can’t help it.
So, he observes and he wonders—if circumstances were different, if life had been kinder—would he have noticed someone like you? His old ideals of types and attraction have dissolved, and he hadn’t been in the company of someone for a long time, but Christ, you were beautiful.
And, Joel likes to imagine that yes, he would have noticed someone like you, would’ve asked you out, drawn you close, spun his favourite vinyls in his living room just to lure you into a dance, see if jazz sounded as good as he remembers it.
But not here. Not now.
So, Joel fights it, fights you, fights himself. Fights fights that leave him breathless—not from extortion but from the unspoken words that fill his lungs like smoke.
You don’t talk a lot, but he thinks that if he wasn’t the way he was—if he appeared less guarded, if his smiles came easier—you might share the slice of thoughts he often sees flickering behind your eyes ever so often. He knows this because he had watched you almost speak, lips parting, only to catch yourself with a fleeting glance his way a subdued smile before your eyes drop to your scuffed boots.
And he knows he isn’t an easy man to keep as a company. He had always been a man of few words, and with or without you, his silence somehow often stretches into days, creating a chasm that’s hard to bridge. He’s haunted by memories, shadows of the past that linger just out of reach but always present. Nightmares plague his sleep, and when he wakes, he’s more withdrawn, the walls around him fortified. His anger, though controlled, simmers beneath the surface, ready to flare at the slightest provocation.
Yet, despite all this, you still stay.
But there comes a night, one unlike the others, when the stars hang heavy in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the world. The campfire crackles softly, and the usual weight of silence feels different, charged with something unsaid. 
Joel sits across from you, eyes flickering between the flames and your profile, bathed in the soft light.
You look up, meeting his gaze, and for once, you don’t look away. The moment stretches, and something inside him softens, a wall beginning to crumble.
“Can you do something for me?” he asks, the words tasting foreign on his tongue.
You nod slowly, curiosity and something else—hope?—lighting your eyes.
“Talk to me,” he says, voice a low murmur, almost lost in the night’s quiet. “Tell me what you’re thinkin’.”
You hesitate, glancing at the fire, before meeting his gaze again. “I think... I think I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
Joel’s breath hitches. The openness in your voice, the raw vulnerability, seeps into him, warming the cold recesses of his heart. He moves closer, the distance between you shrinking, the fire casting dancing shadows on his face.
“I’m not good at this,” he confesses, his voice rough. “But I want to try.”
You reach out, your fingers brushing against his. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. He takes your hand, his grip firm yet gentle, as if afraid you might disappear.
For a while, neither of you speaks. The silence is no longer a barrier but a shared space, filled with the unspoken understanding that something has shifted. Joel’s thumb traces circles on the back of your hand, a soothing, grounding motion.
“I’ve been scared,” he admits finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of feelin’... of losin’...”
You squeeze his hand, offering silent reassurance. “You don’t have to be scared alone,” you reply softly. “We can face it together.”
He looks at you then, and something within him clicks into place. The fortress he’s built around his heart begins to dissolve, brick by brick. He pulls you closer, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t realised you’d shed.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “Please.”
Your answer is a soft whisper against his lips as you close the distance, and he allows himself to feel—fully and completely. 
And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure he minded.
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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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leaentries · 1 day
Text
HEADS OR TAILS - 1ST EDITION
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PAIRINGS- college!nico x reader, college!luke x reader, possible nico x reader x luke
WARNINGS- swearing, not proofread
WORDCOUNT- 4.14k+
NEXT EDITION
SERIES MASTERLIST
-
Behind your closed eyelids danced dreams of meadows and flowers. The soft wind blowing through your hair as you laid against the soft grass. Nothing felt more perfect than that moment. You felt completely and utterly content.
Yet, nothing can last forever.
You were suddenly ripped from your dreams by the aggressive shaking of your roommate. Her hands gripped your shoulders as she practically jumped onto the small, twin sized bed. It was almost a wonder how it managed to hold the weight of you both.
“Come! On!” Dakota shouted at you. Her normally soft voice rung through your sleepy mind. In all honestly, if you weren’t still so tired, you’d be contemplating murder.
You turned to bury your face into the pale blue pillow beneath your head. You took in a deep breath, the stale scent of your shampoo clouding your senses. Dakota was not impressed at your efforts to ignore her, this time opting to grab the spray bottle she kept for the plethora of plants on her side of the dorm. Barely registering the first hit of water, you rolled yourself further into the comforter.
“If you don’t get up right now, I’m calling Jack.”
You let out exasperated sigh, choosing to sit up in order to dodge the wrath of your best friend. Grimacing at the flood of light from the lone window on the opposite wall, you glared at the brunette who stood a foot away from the dark wood of your bed. Her downturned eyes and slanted nose complimented her bright green eyes beautifully, but not when they were scrunched in annoyance. Especially towards you.
“Seriously?” She scoffed, “That’s what gets you out of bed? Not the fact that you’re already 15 minutes late for class?”
You all but shot out of bed, nearly tripping over the white comforter wrapped around your legs. You could have sworn you set your alarm last night, no, you knew you set your alarm. Either or, you did not have the time to worry about whys and whats of your least favorite part of the morning. Rushing around the room, you somehow managed to throw on a decent looking outfit and thanked yourself for at least packing your backpack up the night before.
Bidding Dakota a quick farewell, you left the dorm, practically sprinting down the sidewalks of your university. Anyone who saw you, would probably think you’d gone mad, but others would recognize that familiar look of panic that came partnered with being late to class.
Through the speed and adrenaline of rushing, you found yourself not fully paying attention to your surroundings. One minute you have the Chance Building in your sights, then the next you’re colliding with a large mass, and seemingly ending up on the concrete.
The air left your lungs as your ass collided hard with the ground. You could feel the little pebbles dig into your hands and the slight pain that now radiated from the scrape on your knee. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Of course, this would happen when you’re already late.
“Shit…” You cursed to yourself as you attempted to grab your bag off the ground.
But you were quickly beaten as a calloused hand wrapped its fingers around the black strap. As you peered up, you felt your heartbeat pick up slightly. However, you’d blame that on the adrenaline, definitely not the hockey captain who was currently looking down at you.
“I’m so sorry, it was my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?” His thick accent flowed like warm honey. You took a moment to take in his appearance, strong arms and legs, likely from intense hockey workouts. Thick brown hair that would most certainly fall into his eyes, if it weren’t for the backwards cap he sported.
You were drawn back to reality by his other hand now reaching out to help you up. You couldn’t deny the tingles that ran up your spine at the feeling of his warm skin on yours.
“Thank you, Nico.” You replied politely, earning a confused crook of the head from the boy.
“How do you know my name?” He chuckled brightly.
You could feel your face heat up, “Oh, uhm, well, I’m best friends with Jack, and he talks about you a lot. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure everyone single person on this campus knows who you are.” You looked everywhere but his face, “You know, since your hockey captain and all.”
A lightbulb seemed to have gone off in his head, as he nodded knowingly, “Ahh, yes! You must be Y/N.”
It was your turn to be confused, “You know my name?” You mimicked his previous tone.
Nico let out a melodic laugh, nodding in agreement once more, “Jack talks a lot about you, too. Honestly, so does Luke.”
You felt your stomach turn at the mention of the younger boy.
Luke was Jack’s curly-haired younger brother. He was tall and lanky, yet still riddled with course muscle. Along with Nico and Jack, he was also a detrimental asset to the university’s hockey team, taking place as a top defenseman. You have known Luke since middle school, the both of you bonding over mutual love for Harry Potter, you quickly became close friends. Him being Jack’s brother was just a bonus.
Plus, you and Luke had something going on. What it was, still remained unknown to you.
“Jack? Not surprised, but Luke talks about me?”
Nico smirked at you, “Oh, yeah. For sure. He talks about how pretty you are, and I can’t say I blame him.”
Your eyes widened at the remark. Was Nico…flirting with you? You smiled at him sweetly, not really knowing what to say next. Luckily you were saved from an awkward silence as your phone began to buzz. You swiped open the texts spamming in from Jack.
Rowdy🤠: bro where are you
Rowdy🤠: youre literally about to miss all of chemistry
Rowdy🤠: are you okay??
Rowdy🤠: y/n/nnnnnnn
Rowdy🤠: i can see youre reading these
You: okay, okay, i’m coming right now
Rowdy🤠: watch the attitude miss ✋
You turned off your phone, looking back to the tall hockey player in front of you, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go, I’m super late for chem and Jack is blowing me up.”
Nico sent you an understanding smile, handing you your bag.
Just as you turned to walk away, Nico called out to you, “Are you coming to the game tonight?”
Of course you had planned to go to the game, but you decided to play around a bit. While still walking away you yelled back, “Why should I?”
“Because I want you there!” Nico replied almost instantly.
You felt that pesky heartbeat stutter again. Stupid adrenaline. Yet, you couldn’t stop the wide grin that tore through your features. You quickly turned to face the boy who still remained where you left him, “We’ll see!”
And with that you hurried to catch the last hour of class.
-
Finally making it into your classroom, you quietly file in beside Jack, not failing to miss the expectant glare he was giving you. He slid over his notes for you to copy, nonetheless. You quickly grab your white notebook and pen, opening to a fresh page.
“Where were you?” He leaned in to whisper as you began writing.
“I woke up late.” You replied, opting out of telling him about the little run in with his captain.
“I know that, dumbass,” He rolled his eyes, “Kota texted me earlier. But you took much longer than it normally takes you to get to class.”
“Are you timing me or something, now?” You spat sarcastically.
Jack let out a deep huff, clearly agitated with your lack of cooperation. He yanked his notebook back, preventing you from finishing the last few bullets about chemical bonds. You dropped your pen, turning your body to fully face the blonde boy.
“Jack!” You deadpanned, “I need to finish those.”
He shook his head stubbornly, “Not until you tell me the truth.”
“I did tell you the truth, I woke up late.”
“And I’m aware of that, but you had a weird smile coming in here. Not to mention you were later than normal.”
You sucked in a breath, “Fine,” Your gritted out, “I ran into someone and we got caught up talking.”
Jack perked, “Was it Lukey? You looked awful smiley.” He gave you suggestive eyebrows. Jack was never quiet about his infatuation about you getting with his brother. He always claimed you were like his sister, but being with Luke would make it official. You couldn’t deny that you had feelings for the boy, and that, he too, also had feelings towards you, but the two of you hadn’t put labels on anything.
You shook your head slightly, “No, it wasn’t Luke.”
Jack’s smile faltered, “Oh. Well, I hope you’re not cheating on my little brother.”
This time, you rolled your eyes, “First off, we aren’t together. Second off, even if we were, I can talk to other people.”
“Whatever, you and Luke will be together soon enough,” He appeared pleased with himself, “Lukey and y/n/n sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G,” Jack sang.
You quickly grabbed his notebook and began to finish the notes, Jack laughing as you ignored his mocks.
-
After class, you walked with Jack to the cafe on campus. The trees blew violently as the wind began to pick up.
“Jeez, is it supposed to storm today?” Jack asked aloud.
“I didn’t think it was, but possibly.”
As the two of you engaged in meaningless conversation, you hurried into the building, escaping the harsh whips of the wind. The cafe was busier than usual, no doubt due to the weather, and your typical spot in the back corner had already been taken. You didn’t have much time to worry, as you quickly spotted the familiar curly-headed boy sitting in a booth.
You nudged Jack’s shoulders, “Luke’s over there,” You nodded towards the boy.
Growing closer to the table, you noticed the familiar cup and chocolate croissant you always ordered. You smiled, realizing Luke must have went ahead and ordered for you. Luke’s eyes lit up the second he noticed you and his brother making your way to the table. You situated yourself in the ugly, green booth next to Luke, Jack sliding in the opposite side. The older brother’s eyebrows pinched as he noticed the drink and pastry now firmly in your hands.
“What the hell?” He brought his eyes to Luke, “Where’s mine?”
Luke just shrugged, “Go order something.”
Jack narrowed his eyes at his younger brother, visibly annoyed at the special treatment you were getting, “This is totally unfair.” He sassed as he proceeded to exit the booth. As soon as he was out of range, Luke turned his body towards you. His eyes scanned your face, mouth parting slightly.
“How was your day, y/n/n?”
You smiled at him, “It was okay. I almost missed my chemistry class.”
“Oh?” He tilted his head. Luke knew you weren’t one to regularly miss class, “Did something happen?” A comforting warmth spread through your body at his concern. The worried look on his face resembling that of a puppy.
“I just woke up late, my alarm must not have went off.”
He nodded understandingly, eyes coasting down to where your hand toyed with the cardboard sleeve on your cup. Luke’s eyebrows furrowed as he reached to pull your hand into his.
“What the fuck happened?” His voice was laced with concern, taking note of the scratches that littered your palms.
“Nothi-“
“It’s not nothing, y/n. You have cuts all over you.” Luke’s eyes continued to scan your body, gently inspecting your hands and knees. You bring the hand not occupied up to cradle the side of his face.
“I’m okay, I promise. I just was in a rush to class and accidentally ran into someone.”
“Who’d you run into? I can beat them up if you want me to.”
You could help the laughter that spilled from your lips. The idea of Luke trying to pummel someone, let alone his very own captain, was quite the image.
“I don’t think you’d want to beat the crap out of your captain, Lukey.”
His face shot up in surprise.
“You ran into Nico?”
You nodded your head mockingly, “Well, duh. That’s what I just said.”
“Oh…Well, yeah, sorry y/n/n. I won’t be pissing off cap right before a game, no thank you.”
Luke took a bite out of your croissant, earning a whine of protest from you. The boy only served you a charming smile in return. Rolling your eyes, you took a sip of your drink, Jack finally making his appearance at the table. This time he had a pile of chip bags and a few water bottles. He dropped them on the scuffed tabletop, Luke having to lean over to catch a stray water bottle from meeting its doom. You raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him.
“I had to stock up before the game tonight. The girl a register said they were getting rid of all these and that I could have them if I wanted.” Jack said nonchalantly, “Who am I to turn down free food?”
Luke reached to pluck a bag of plain lays from Jack’s array. The blonde opened his mouth to argue, but Luke turned his attention back to you.
“You’re coming to the game tonight, right?”
Remembering Nico’s invite, a warm rosy hue began to cover the apples of your cheeks. You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
-
When you got back to your dorm, you noticed that Dakota had already left for her night class. You flopped onto your bed, the familiar creak echoing through the room. Rolling on your back, you started at the ceiling contemplating everything that happened that day. You thought about Luke and how sweet he was, but inevitably your mind drifted to the dimpled hockey captain who managed to set your skin blazing with a single touch. You could feel your cervix throb as you remembered his thick muscles and warm brown eyes.
Nope.
You cannot be thinking of Nico that way. Not when you were “involved,” so to speak, with Luke. It would break his heart, not to mention, you couldn’t even guess what Jack would do. You shook your head, ridding your thoughts away in turn to start getting ready for the game.
You quickly threw on some yoga pants and a comfy hockey sweatshirt, donned with the familiar red and black of the school. Keeping your hair the same, you touched up a few sections, the wind having messed it up. Once you checked the time, you grabbed your bag, sent Dakota a quick text as to where you were going, and made your way to the arena.
Luckily, your dorm was only a 10 minute walk from your destination, so you didn’t have to worry about driving. Meeting up with a few other friends, you made your way inside the cold dome, not failing to grab a hotdog before finding your seats.
Jack had texted you before the game, letting you know to come down to the locker rooms after and wait for them.
You could feel your heartbeat quicken as the loud warm-up music began to echo throughout the crowded arena. An internal battle fought within your gut, but you couldn't quite decipher why. With eyes glued to the tunnel, you and your friends began to pound on the glass with excitement as the boys took to the ice. The sheer speed at which they skated never ceased to amaze you.
You caught a glimpse of that shaggy, dark hair peaking out from the sides of his helmet, brown eyes meeting your own. Nico sent you a small smile, clearly pleased to see you. A lump caught in your throat as he skated closer to you.
"You came," He stated cheerfully. The loud music paired with the thick plexiglass muffled his voice.
You nodded, "I did."
Nico removed his helmet, your breath hitching as his hair fell in messy tendrils around his face, "I thought I was gonna have to come find you," His eyes glimmered in the bright lights, "I'm glad you didn't keep me waiting."
His accent was clearer without the bucket, his welcoming dimples fully on display.
"Oh, please," You quirked, "I'm only here so Jack doesn't cut my head off."
"Whatever you say, princess." He smiled as the buzzer went off signaling the end of warmups, "But I know you're here for me."
You opened your mouth to protest, but Nico skated away before you could even manage a word.
You watched as he interacted with his teammates on the bench, each one so entranced by every word coming from his lips. It was truly mesmerizing the way he commanded attention and obedience, you couldn't help but stare. Too lost admiring the captain, you missed Dakota slipping into the seat next to you.
She noticed your deep gaze, following your sightline. Dakota smirked as she saw what, more like who, you were staring at.
"Achem," She coughed.
You jumped slightly, startled by her presence, "Jesus, Kota!" You grabbed your chest, "How long have you been standing there?" You looked around as if she appeared out of thin air.
"Long enough to see you making puppy dog eyes at the captain." She stated with a quirked brow. Her manicured fingernails tapped expectantly against her crossed arms.
You scoffed, "I was not making any sort of eyes. I was simply admiring Nico's leading abilities." You had to bite back the cringe that threatened to flood your features. Although it wasn't a complete lie, you knew Dakota would see right through you.
"Right, and I'm into Jack. Apparently, we are just saying things that aren't true." She exclaimed into the crisp air. Dakota's eyebrows furrowed, her lip twitching. This was a tale-tale sign she thought of something, "Wait," She looked back over at the bench, then back at you, "What about Luke?"
"What about Luke?" You repeated back.
"Aren't you guys," She hesitated a moment, "Like a thing?"
Your words died on their way out. In all truthfulness, you didn't have an answer. It's not like the two of you were official in any way, but neither of you had been seeing other people. You went on dates and acted the part...sometimes. Luke, as sweet as he was, wasn't always the most outgoing. He didn't erupt tingles through your body with every touch, but rather soothed. He was comfortable. But was comfortable gonna be enough?
Before you could answer, the game started.
-
It was now halfway through the third, and it was intense. Tied 1-1, the game had been brutal so far. With unfair penalties being called, along with the rival team targeting Jack, you were heated.
"What the fuck was that?" You screamed as they called a tripping penalty on Luke. It was obviously baited, Luke didn’t even touch the guy. You sat back down in your seat, leg bouncing as the two team took their places in the face-off circle. You watched as the team fought with everything they had not to let them gain a one up lead.
As the penalty kill counted down, just as you felt your breathing return to normal, Luke came out of the box at full speed, gaining possession of the puck and now headed straight for the net. You rose once again, ready to cheer Luke on, but the familiar “ding” from the crossbar had the whole arena deflate with a collective sigh.
The final seconds passed, the boys slowing as the horn blared, signaling the end of the third.
Overtime.
Dakota looked over at you, laughing to herself over how worked up you got over these games. In her opinion, they were pointless. The whole concept of getting angry, depressed, having anxiety over men with sticks seemed so foreign to her. But, she enjoyed coming to them to watch you. She enjoyed being able to watch you in your element, analyzing the plays and explaining them back to her when she got lost. It was just how the two of you functioned.
You took a large sip from her cherry coke, letting out a deep breath after you swallowed.
“You doing alright?” Dakota mused.
“Not at all.”
Overtime finally started, Nico ultimately ending up on a breakaway. You gripped the edge of your seat, your breath getting caught in your throat as he came one-on-one with the goalie. He handled the puck expertly as he approached the right side of the net. With quick deception, Nico sent an insane wrist shot, the goalie leapt for the puck, but it managed to barely scathe by.
Nico had won the game.
You jumped from your seat, beating the on the glass. Even if it wasn’t necessarily a huge game, it still meant a lot to the fans and the team.
After celebrating the win for a few minutes, you helped walk Dakota to the exit, her sister waiting for her outside.
“You promise you’ll be alright?” She asked.
You nodded reassuringly, “I promise. You know the boys wouldn’t do or let anything happen to me.”
She pursed her lips, nodding tightly before heading out the large glass door. You turned the other direction, following the concrete floor to the opposite side of the arena where the staircase down to the locker rooms is. Once downstairs, you waited, leaning against the wall that was neatly decorated with red and black.
After a few minutes, you felt your phone buzz.
Rowdy🤠: so sorry, we are running late. be out in a bit.
You sighed, letting your head lull back against the cold stone.
“Tired of me already, princess?”
Your stomach swirled at that damn accent. Lifting your head, you turned to see Nico walking towards you. You couldn’t help but rake your eyes down his form. His hair was covered by a ball cap, but you could still see the water droplets from his shower dripping down onto his gray t-shirt. He wore black sweats, paired with some Adidas slides.
Fuck he looked good, not that you'd ever admit that to him.
"How could I ever be tired of you?" You mocked with false admiration.
Nico just smirked as he came to lean next to you, his left shoulder propped against the wall.
“I’m sure I could find a way to tire you out,” His voice was low and husky.
You had to hold back from squeezing your thighs together as a dull throb strummed in your core.
Feigning nonchalance, you chuckled, “Wow, such a flirt. You know, Nico, if I were somebody else, I’d think you were hitting on me.”
Nico took a step closer, your chests almost touching. It was only now you realized how tall he actually was. He towered over you by at least 6 inches. For once, it made you feel small. You didn’t miss the way his adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, or the way his tongue would drag out to wet his lips before opening his mouth to speak.
“Well, I’d think you were right.”
His confidence was alluring. It drew you in rapidly, his whole personality did. Before you could stop yourself, you reached a hand to brush away one of the stray strands of hair that fell from his hat. You could have sworn you saw his cheeks tinge a few shades pinker. Nico brought his other hand up to cradle yours before you could pull it away.
You shivered.
There were those tingles again. The ones that only Nico seemed to be able to give you. Your eyes were locked with brown ones, fully prepared to drown the dripping honey around his irises.
“Y/n?”
You backed away from Nico instantly at the sound of Luke’s voice. You only hoped he didn’t see much, especially the way Nico’s hand subconsciously chased yours as you pulled from his touch.
“Luke!” You breathed out.
Luke gazed weirdly at his captain who looked the opposite direction. Nico’s body was tense and rigid, a stark change from a few seconds ago. You walked over to Luke, hand brushing against his bicep.
“Ready to go?”
He looked at you, “Yeah, Jack’s already outside.”
You nodded following the boy through the hallway. Just before you rounded the corner, you took one last glance at Swiss you left abruptly, only to find him already staring. There was a certain gleam, a flame in Nico’s eyes that signaled this wasn’t gonna be the last encounter the two of you share.
You shook your head, ridding yourself of thoughts about the hockey player, deciding you needed to focus on the one leading you out the door.
-
A/N: this college is completely fictional, any specific place and/or buildings mentioned are all from my head.
TAGLIST: @alwaysclassyeagle @crazyjadedstar @emaanemaa @heartsforhischier @favsrachz @natalieeyyy
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mikedfaist · 2 days
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Mike x non famous reader! While Mike is off doing press his daughters miss him soooo much and he calls as much as he can to comfort them!
also for the sake of his ask, he has twin girls because that's what we all deserve
One of the reasons why he was dreading the press tour was because he hates any reason he has to be away from his girls. Being a father is his favorite thing, hence why he’s slowed down on the acting thing. He just wants to be present. If there was any part of the press tour he was dreading the most, it was Australia. He’s never been that far away from them; I don’t think he could get any farther from them.
He was 14 hours ahead, and when his girls were getting ready for bed, he was starting his day of press and interviews and photoshoots. When they were waking up and having their breakfast, Mike was finally arriving back to his hotel for much needed rest – rest that he struggled to find because any second he could find, he was calling them.
He knows they miss him; he can hear it in their voice on the other end of the line; he can see it in their faces when he’s able to FaceTime. He even brought one of their blankets with him for this press tour because he seems to feel less homesick when he cuddles with it after a long day.
He shows Josh and Zendaya all of the pictures you send him of the girls, like one of them sitting outside in their small, inflatable kiddie pool with Austin a complete blur in the background as he had the zoomies. Or them in the living room watching Up, in matching pajamas, their hair still wet from their bath. Or his favorite: it’s a video of the girls watching West Side Story (save for the ending; you wouldn’t put the girls through that) and they get so excited when they see their daddy on the screen. One of them starts clapping, the other is pointing and looking back at her mom.
“Is that daddy?”
“Dadda!” She squeals, turning back around to face the screen. “Issa dadda!”
It’s the scene when poor Baby John gets a nail through his ear, but the girls got so excited to see that familiar face.
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violettduchess · 3 days
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A/N: I was a wee bit annoyed yesterday at the anon that seemed to be lamenting writers "suddenly" having OCs. So I wrote a short fic with mine because a) IT'S FUN and b) I felt like it. OCs are awesome and we should celebrate the creativity they represent!
My OC Leyla Quinn x Silvio, established relationship
One shot: Silvio and his fiancée on a rainy night in Rhodolite
WC: 1k
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The ornate door to one of the royal suites inside the elegant Rhodolite palace swings open, bringing with it the scent of orange blossoms that always precedes Silvio’s fiancée. Leyla herself follows a moment later, shaking the rainwater out of her hair and kicking the door shut behind her. She had already removed her muddy boots before setting foot back inside the grand palace, walking barefoot through the palace and back to the suite, much to the servants' astonishment. Most people would not have been that thoughtful.
“God damn, who knew you’d get rain like this so far away from the sea?” Water drops fall from her like tiny pearls, littering the rich carpet with little dark spots.
The newspaper Silvio has been attempting to read is thrown aside as he shoots to his feet, annoyance written in every line of his face.
“Where the hell have you been?” His tone is sharp with displeasure, loud with irritation. It would have sent many others a step backwards in surprise, flinching with unease.
Leyla doesn’t even look away from wringing out her long, dark hair.
“Down, boy. Watch who you’re barking at.” She straightens up, but doesn’t stop moving, unbuttoning the front of her damp navy blue overcoat with quick, practiced fingers.
“Woman, you said you would be back before dark and that was an hour ago.” He’s watching her with narrowed eyes as she peels off her coat, then turns, walking into the bathroom, but not before revealing a quick glimpse of a white blouse now covered in tantalizing, transparent patches.
He breathes out, collecting his thoughts. Don't get distracted, Silvio. She had him fucking worried. He's pissed. She's gotta know that he was sitting here, watching the storm through the windows, wondering if she was ok. So yeah, stay focused. Focused.
When she returns, she’s hung all of her wet clothing over the rim of the large porcelain bathtub and is now wrapped in a fluffy white oversized bathrobe with a charming red Rhodolitian rose embroidered above her heart. Her hair is still damp with rainwater, a curtain of dark waves that smells like springtime and daydreams, spilling over her shoulders and down her back. 
His breath catches in his chest. She's so damn beautiful.
“I lost track of the hour as I was visiting Oliver in his lab and he was telling me about his latest-”
Fuck staying focused.
“Don’t care.”
Silvio crosses the room in just two long strides, wrapping an arm around Leyla’s waist and pulls her to him, overcome with the desperate need to feel her against him. He ducks his head, closing his eyes as he breathes in deeply, orange blossoms and rainwater, desire and love.
Feeling the way his strong hands hold her close brings a smile to her face. With Silvio, it never feels like he’s trapped her. It’s possessiveness, yes, but never a cage. It’s protection and want. It’s security and comfort. It’s a promise to never let go.
His mouth eagerly travels the line of her neck, brushing aside her hair for better access. Hunger spreads like wildfire through her veins but his kisses also carry something else, something more delicate, something vulnerable and silken within their heated depths.
Leyla grins slowly. “Missed me that much, did you?” 
His “Shuddup” is muffled as he kisses his way up towards her mouth and she starts to laugh. Even now, after all they have been through together, he still gets flustered, reluctant to reveal that tender part of him that she knows is there, the one that belongs to her and only her. 
“Aw, pup, were you pining for me? Counting down the minutes until I returned, each one an eternity as you ached with–Ahh!”
Her teasing is cut off as he swiftly hoists her up and over his shoulder, turning and stalking towards the canopied bed with its red and gold bed covers and gold satin pillows.
“That’s enough out of you, wench,” he grunts as he tosses her down, the sound of her delighted laugh filling the room and warming him more than any fire ever could.
He wraps his long fingers around her wrists, pinning them up by her head. She looks up at him, sky-blue eyes flashing with something just as bright and brilliant as the lightning outside, the echo of her laughter lingering as a smile.
“Hey Silvio?”
He doesn’t know where to settle his gaze. Her hair is a pool of ebony waves around her, her luxurious robe has slipped off of one shoulder to reveal an enticing amount of skin, and there’s still that smile on those lips….
“Yeah?” The word is a rasp from the back of his throat.
“Guess who loves you.”
His cheeks flush and he looks away, his chest rising and falling with every quick breath he takes.
“Goddamnit, sea witch, why–”
“No really, can you guess anyone? Cause I certainly can’t. For a prince, you’re rather annoying and loud and–”
She’s cut off as he lowers his mouth to hers with a growl, stopping her teasing words. More laughter bubbles within her chest as she hooks one leg around his and kisses him back with all her might. She can get away with teasing him like this because they both know the truth: they were two souls adrift in an endless sea of doubt who, despite the odds, have found safe harbor in each other’s arms. The journey may have been long, but now that they have conquered the darkness and the hidden perils of a dark ocean of uncertainty, she knows their hearts are so entwined, there is no untangling them.
He releases her wrists, intending to make quick work of her robe when she catches his face in her hands, holding him still. Her thumbs lighty stroke over his cheekbone as she searches his gaze.
“Hey.” One little word, soft and sincere, perhaps odd to any outsider but to them, it carries a weight far beyond its three letters. It’s the softest part of her heart reaching out to him, saying hello love of my life. Hello.
And he’s lost in the light of her eyes, the dulcet sound of her voice, the velvet of her touch. 
“Hey,” he murmurs quietly in return. I hear you, the word answers. And I love you too.
She smiles and closes her eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips to hers. An unspoken promise renewed on this rainy, Rhodolite night.
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Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage
@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey
@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight
@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics
@justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating
@portrait-ninja @starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing
@nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly @ozalysss
@keithsandwich @ikeprinces-stuff @bestbryn
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peachy-panic · 2 days
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Companion, pt. 3 (Bonus)
The last little piece of this arc (that was originally supposed to be part of part two)
WARNINGS: Not much. BBU, alcoholic in recovery, anxious animals with a happy ending
Sebastian takes a tentative sip and wrinkles his nose at the burn of carbonation against his throat. 
“They’re an acquired taste,” Sam had warned him when he handed them over on their last visit to the house, “but they help.” He was right on both accounts, unfortunately. The bitter notes, the heavy carbonation, and the acidic tang are meant to mimic the familiar habit of nursing a drink, but without any of the pleasant, warm buzz that comes after. (And without the misery and exhaustion and shame that comes with the next morning, he reminds himself).
Sebastian doesn’t find himself reaching for these alcohol replacement drinks often, but nights are sometimes… difficult. A natural consequence, he supposes, using a glass (or three) of vodka as a sleep aid for several consecutive years.
It will be a cold day in hell before Sebastian can utter aloud that he is proud of himself for much in this life, but he thinks, with this, he has done fairly well. Perhaps he can credit part of that to having the proper motivation enter his life. 
As if on cue, the quiet creak of a door sounds from down the hallway. Sebastian places his can on the counter, an easy smile falling into place, but no footsteps follow. Jaime is good at moving quietly through the house, but Sebastian didn’t realize he had mastered absolute silence. He frowns, but just as he goes to step around the island to check on him, he nearly jumps out of his skin as a black mass of fur jumps onto the countertop, seemingly out of nowhere. 
“Jesus, Bella!” Sebastian whisper-shouts, hand over his heart. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Merrrr,” she chirps up at him, knocking her tiny paw against the side of his open can, threatening to upturn it all over the floor. 
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He plucks the drink out of her reach, but as he retracts his hand, Bella nuzzles her head against his wrist. A request for contact. Sebastian’s heart melts a little. “Hey there,” he says, reaching down to pet her properly. She preens at the affection, vibrating softly with a low, steady purr.
Sebastian can’t help but feel proud of their little cat for the impressive adjustment she has made to their home in such a short amount of time. The first couple of nights were… rough. She spent most of the waking hours out of sight, hiding somewhere Jaime and Sebastian couldn’t reach. And though he didn’t voice it out loud, Sebastian could tell that Jaime was affected by her fear. He could see the regret and guilt taking shape in his eyes. 
Sebatian tried to comfort him by bringing up article after article online, assuring them that this behavior was often to be expected when bringing a cat into an unfamiliar home, and that there were measures that could be taken to acclimate them. They took all of them. And slowly, surely, they began to work. 
A few days after they brought her home, Sebastian returned from work to find Jaime sitting on the couch with a preternatural stillness to his form and a stunned look on his face. When Sebastian looked closer, he saw that it wasn’t just a blanket on his lap. Blending into the soft, black fibers was Bella’s sleeping form, curled up on Jaime’s legs. She only stirred briefly at Sebatian’s entrance before standing into an arched-back stretch and making herself at home once again on his lap.  
The smile on Jaime’s face was bright enough to light the whole house. 
“I never thought I’d be a cat person,” Sebastian says, rubbing the back of his knuckles between her ears. “But you’re pretty sweet, huh?”
Inevitably, a familiar itch rises to his eyes, as it does anytime he spends more than a minute in direct contact with Bella. He pinches the bridge of his nose to combat an oncoming sneeze. Extracting his hand from her just long enough to open the cabinet above the sink, he reaches for the bottle of allergy pills he stashed away the day they brought her home. 
Listen. 
There are several internet forums that swear up and down that you can mind-over-matter a cat allergy away given enough time and exposure. Sebastian has done his research. In the meantime, he is perfectly capable of smuggling home a bottle of Claritin once a month and popping pills in secret. Sebastian knew from the moment he saw Jaime staring, enamored, at Bella’s cage at the shelter, that this was one piece of information he could keep to himself. If anything, watching Jaime’s smile on the couch that day had only made Sebastian double down on that conviction. 
He unscrews the cap and shakes one of the small, white pills into his hand. The next sip of alcohol-replacement-drink doesn’t taste any better as it washes it down. Worth it, though. All of it. 
Sebastian casts a glance down the hall, where he knows Jaime’s door will be cracked open so that Bella can come and go as she pleases.
“You make him happy,” he tells her. “How could I not love you for that?” Right on cue, she turns her head to issue a firm love bite to his thumb. “Ouch, you little shit,” he says, but even he can hear the affection bleeding into the words. 
***
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toasttt11 · 12 hours
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comforted
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December 22, 2023
John was chilling on his couch on one of the rare off days when his phone started buzzing and he picked it up seeing Lucia had texted him and asked if he was home, John frowned in concern because she usually just came over and didn’t ask if he was home but he responded telling her he was home.
Not even five minutes later he heard a soft knock at the door and he got up walking over and opened the door seeing Lucia standing there.
John titled his head looking at her intently and quickly noticing that she was upset, “Hi Lucia.” John softly spoke looking at her in concern.
“Hi.” Lucia mumbled clearing her throat and shuffling on her feet.
John stepped aside letting her step inside his apartment and he gently place a hand on her back guiding her over to his couch.
Lucia sat down on the couch and John sat down close next to her.
“What’s wrong?“ John asked in concern, he doesn’t think he has seen her this upset ever, and if she is upset she usally doesn’t seem that upset unless you knew her small quirks.
“Jack is an asshole.” Lucia grumbled crossing her arms around herself protectively not that she ever felt she needed to protect her self around John.
“What did he do?” John questioned as it was common for the hughes siblings to get into little spats but never fights that lasted long or where either of them were truly upset at each other. John had seen them bicker and two minutes they were laughing together.
Lucia took a deep breath and looked at John hesitant, there is still parts of her that is scared whenever she is vulnerable with someone after everything that happened with Mackie.
“Or you don’t have to tell me anything and we continue watching the next movie?” John put a soft hand on her shoulder giving her a reassuring smile seeing her hesitate and not wanting her to feel like she had to tell him.
Lucia looked up at John and took a deep breath seeing his kind and sweet eyes and knew John was nothing like Mackie.
“The World Juniors started yesterday.” Lucia started saying as she looked down at the couch and fiddled with a fray string on the couch.
John squeezed her shoulder reassuring for her to continue.
“And i just wish i could be there too.” Lucia softly admitted, “Not that i don’t love being here in Jersey, i do. It’s just i miss my friends and i’ve played with most of them for years it’s just weird to not play with them anymore.” Lucia confessed the words she couldn’t get out to tell anyone else but it was easy to tell John.
Lucia looked back up at John and he frowned seeing her eyes looking dull and he didn’t like how they weren’t shining like usual.
John thoughtfully nodded, “And you don’t want them to win gold without you?” John understood immediately why she was so upset.
“Is that selfish?” Lucia softly asked looking at John with vulnerable eyes.
John felt his heart clench seeing how uncertain Lucia looked and felt, “No Lucia it is not selfish.” John sternly reassured her, “You played with the team for years and now they are looking like one of the best teams it’s understandable it’s upsetting.” John reassured her.
John knew she took her place on the US National team seriously and he knew she was the captain last year and she took that very seriously and he may not of known her then but he knew she was gutted when they got bronze with her as Captain.
Lucia nodded her head slowly, she just wanted to one day wear a gold medal around her neck for her National team.
“What did Jack do?” John questioned wondering how Jack made this worse for her.
“I tried to tell him i missed playing with my friends while we watched some of the World Junior game and he just dis guarded my feelings saying i was here now and i-“ Lucia trailed off.
Lucia was use to growing up faster than the people around her and missing out on a lot of things but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less.
“You wanted to be comforted.” John nodded and Lucia nodded back just wanting to he comforted by her brother, “And he was trying to say your here now and you can’t change that.” John shook his head at Jack’s foolishness. John knew Jack didn’t mean viciously but Jack is not the best as comforting people.
Lucia did not need a reminder of where she was she just needed to be comforted for what she was missing.
John gently moved his arm to around Lucia’s shoulders and pulled her to him.
Lucia blinked but eventually relaxed in John’s hold and rested her head on his chest closing her eyes listening to his heartbeat.
“If it makes you feel better, i would miss you if you were at worlds.” John softly whispered as he twirled his finger around one of her stray hairs that were falling out of her braided crown.
Lucia chuckled soflty but did nod, it did make her feel better.
If anything John just made her feel better, he made her feel seen not just looked over. No one has ever made her feel the way John does, not even Mackie.
Lucia felt her eyes go wide as she realized the extent of her feelings for John, they weren’t platonic they were romantic.
Lucia took a deep breath trying to not freak out in John’s arms, she hasn’t had many feelings for people in her life mostly only just Mackie and even then those feelings weren’t even close to what John makes here feel.
Lucia has always been scared of romantic feelings she has had for people but for some reason figuring out her feelings for John didn’t scare her if anything it only just comforted her, but maybe that was just John.
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psxchxxx · 1 day
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✮⋆ ˚。𖦹 deep breaths and breaking tides 𖦹⋆。°✩
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summary: in which the anemo archon’s feelings are worn on his sleeve, billowing in the wind for everyone to see, yet the subject of his desire is a dumb fuck.  notes: 800 words, hurt/comfort (??), venti overthinks things
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The sky is overcast as Venti rushes down the street to your apartment, dodging people who are similarly in a hurry to escape the rain. Tucked under an arm is a bouquet, a white-and-green arrangement of freshly cut flowers and foliage. He shifts the flowers to his other arm, worried that he’s going to crush the lilies-of-the-valley spilling over the edges of the brown paper.
He’s finally reached your run down apartment building, but instead of heading toward the old elevators at the front, he nods at the bored landlord at the desk and shoulders his way into the dusty mail room.
There’s a small desk in the corner with some cheap stationary. He writes a short note to you:
Hey. How are you doing? I know you might not be feeling up to it, but I brought you a little something! Please call me once you see this. I miss you.
He hesitates. How should he sign off? Love, Venti was what he usually ended with, but for some reason it didn’t seem right in this case.
He sighs to himself and quickly scrawls a simple hyphen before his name, and then tucks the note into the bouquet before dropping it into the cubby labeled with your last name.
He lingers, his fingers tracing the cold metal lettering. Venti tries to think back to when he first met you.
Ever since you first entered his life, he’d forgotten what it had been like before. The countless high school projects, late-night calls to work on assignments (but more often, for prolonged gossip sessions), sleepovers, prom, and graduation. You’d been by his side the entire time, at arms length.
And now you weren’t.
He’d probably never tell you how he felt about you, but mainly because he didn’t want to change any part of the relationship he had with you. He’s completely content with just being your friend.
At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself, when he sits through your spiels about college crushes. But recently, doubts have been brewing in his mind.
The feeling of yearning wasn’t all together familiar, but not quite foreign either. He supposes he’s always felt something for you. He couldn’t define it- something more than a friendship, but also something more than a romantic relationship?
Venti shakes his head quickly, as if that will clear his head of the thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for oh so long.
It’s been a week since you’d broken up with your most recent boyfriend. And considering it had been a relationship of nearly 7 months, which that prick had very graciously ended by cheating on you, it made sense that you were devastated.
Venti was sure you’d get out of it eventually. But he also understood just how hard it was to love someone who didn’t reciprocate it. You needed time to process everything, and he’d wait for you.
He’s about to walk to the door, when it creaks open and you walk into the mail room.
Venti’s eyes widen, the shock mirrored on your face.
He’s suddenly very embarrassed of the bouquet and note. Maybe it’s too much? Too sudden? He notices how tired you look, eyes smudged with redness and concerningly-prominent dark circles.
He opens his mouth to start explaining himself.
But then you crack a weary smile, and nudge him with your toe.
“Couldn’t keep yourself away from me for a week, huh?”
Venti forgets about the anxiety he had about seeing you just a minute ago, and flicks your forehead. And then the lecture starts.
“You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts! You had me so worried. You look like you haven’t eaten in days and don’t even get me started on the bags under your eyes. You-“
You chuckle apologetically and hold up your hands in surrender.
“I wasn’t trying to avoid you, I swear! There’s no one I wanted to talk to more this last week than you. You’re my best friend, Venti, but I was too embarrassed to have you see me-“
You gesture down at your faded tank top and sweatpants.
“-like this.”
You’re about to say more but you’re interrupted by Venti pulling you into a hug.
“You don’t need to apologize, I just wanted to know if you were okay,” he whispers.
He can feel your gentle smile against his shoulder.
“Will you stop being clingy for a second so I can check my mail?”
Venti shakes his head, refusing to let go, like a child.
And then he remembers the flowers he left in your cubby and abruptly releasees you out of embarrassment.
He raises a hand to the back of his neck, red and fidgety as you open your mail box.
He watches your expression melt into a soft smile, and can’t help but smile himself.
You’ll be okay, and that’s all that matters to him.
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heroictoonz · 2 days
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king I've been putting off a rewatch of s15-17 for ages do u think its worth it
My instinct is so say no save yourself but like jokes aside I think that’s up to you like, I always said that they gave the RvBs a “bad ending” and that they ruined Tucker’s character post Chorus however, that was back when season 16 was literally first coming out
Flash back here but so when s16 was coming out I was just getting more and more upset with the writing of the show especially and honestly almost specifically Tucker. Somewhere near the end of s16 I stopped watching (didn’t even finish the season) and then after a bit I heard that the next season was gonna revolve around whole new characters
Now this, I only recently learned was weird miscommunication. See I’m trash ass shit at keeping up with news of shit even shit that I like so for the longest time I thought the story of this group I’ve been following since I was a teenager ended at s16 which KILLED me inside so I swore off the rest of the show and vowed to never watch it. Instead I mostly just rewatched Chorus or s1-s13 if I wanted to rewatch the “whole” show. Basically just watching till the end of Chorus and stopping. Every time I tried to go rewatch s15 to mmmaybe finish the show I kept remember how bad things got and kept running away
I’m gonna give some vague spoilers from here on out but it’s cause I do genuinely wanna talk about how I feel having literally only a few minutes ago finished s16 and s17 for the first time
I decided to finish RvB LITERALLY last night like no joke and it’s cause I saw spoilers out of context for s19 and I was like fuck it I need to see what the hell that is show is over anyways might as well finish it. So I am doing that now
I rewatched/finished s16 and fucking hated it. The good parts were Wash being cute and silly and my favorite guy ever of all time and forever. There’s also Grif and this character named Huggins they’re like on god one of my new brotps of all time damn RvB writes some good ass season specific supporting cast cause holy shit man. Also! I liked that Kai was in it! I enjoy Kai so so so so so much! I’ve always wanted more of her in the show! UNFORTUNATELY!
Tucker is so hard to watch. It’s so honest to god painful to watch. Maybe that’s what they were going for I don’t know. But, having now seen season 17 I get what they were TRYING to do I just don’t fully like how they did it.
In s17 Tucker admits to himself that the reason why in s16 he was acting so weird and gross and toxic masculinity “I have to have the biggest and most talented dong in the room at all times or I’ll kms” character ever is cause he was trying to be a leader
It’s sounds stupid and personally I think it IS stupid but now that I know what they were TRYING to write it makes these post Chorus seasons more bearable.
Basically, Tucker spent all that time in Chorus forced to be a leader. Once he finally got comfortable in the position of one Chorus no longer needed them. He wanted to keep being a leader keep feeling like a leader and it went to his head. He tried acting cool and tough and macho cause that’s what he thought a leader was and he says this! Out loud he admits all this to himself in s17! And honestly? That’s SUCH a good fucking concept it’s super fucking interesting and I really dig it plus with Tucker FAILING at being the leader it gave Donut well deserved character growth. I’ve always hated how sidelined Donut got compared to the others cause I’ve always liked him but s17 is definitely Donut’s season and to see him finally get screen time and respect and also have genuine moments of connection with the others was honestly really fucking awesome
So, do I like s16? God no. Do I recommend it watching it? Hard to say. You have to watch it if you wanna finish the show. Is finishing the show worth it? Honestly I dunno yet I haven’t seen 18 or 19 so it’s to be seen rn. But s17 where not perfect was definitely better than 16 and gave better insight on what they were trying to do. I don’t like the execution I don’t think it was as done very well but I like the ideas I like what they were attempting
S15 I admittedly do not fucking remember at all cause again it’s not a season I’ve rewatched more than maybe twice cause I kept stopping cause I just did not wanna deal with what I knew was coming. And I know me I know myself I know if I tried rewatching the show from the start or even s15 in an attempt to finish it I’d ever fucking do it so instead I just started from s16 and went forward
I don’t remember out right hating s15 but similar to the above I think there were good ideas and not all of them were perfectly done in writing. Also there’s this like really cool interesting thing that is about Tucker that then ends up being a stupid child support payment joke and that sucks so much it makes me so burningly livid I don’t even have a joke here it just makes me mad
But! It brings in the concept of other reds and blues other soldiers that were left in the rubbles of project freelancer which is super interesting again I think they coulda done more with specific parts of it and the “Tucker doesn’t pay child support for the buncha kids he fucked into existence” joke sucks especially when they CONSTANTLY SHOW HIM AS A VERY DOTING AND LOVING FATHER it’s fine I’m not mad I’m not bitter I promise
But uh yeah honestly if you like the show a lot I say watch it even if it sucks. Some of my biggest special interests are GARBAGE shows with writing so bad it makes me wanna commit actual arson. But, I love the characters I love the settings and I love what could have been maybe that’s why I always keep sticking around in stuff like this lol even if it sucks I like to imagine what could make it better cause I love it! And if I didn’t love it I wouldn’t care to put as much energy into wanting it to be better as I do! That’s the same with RvB! I wish it was better I wish SSOOOO BADLY that it was better but it’s cause I love it so fucking much not out of any sort of hate if that makes sense?
Idk tldr it’s up to you and you might suffer a bit but if you love the show I say go for it
Aaaand it’s 2am and I read ur ask wrong I thought that said “watch” not “rewatch” but? Points still stand I’m the kinda person that will rewatch even the seasons I hate to remember why I like the ones I love (I’m looking at you Ninjago season 3 you hot fucking garbage that I’ve sadly seen more times than I would like)
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yuriisclumsy · 2 days
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I'm so excited that more people started taking cale request!!!✧\(>o<)ノ✧
Anyway hiii! Can I have an enemy to lovers with cale henituse and fem.reader idk something cliche like a dance scene or one gets protective of the other or maybe a cute "oh shit I'm actually in love moment"
Sorry I'm bursting with ideas rn.~
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Love's Dance
Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 (coming soon!)
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,729
Authors note: You ask, and I shall deliver. PS. why did you give me such a good idea? like, I'm at 5k word for the overall thing, and I am not even done yet... (send help)
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The streets of Roan Kingdom's Capital were bustling like usual. The vendors selling their goods, children running around carelessly, mothers screaming at them to not get dirty, and the usual underground activity Arm did. 
I strolled through these streets, thinking of nothing and relaxing ‘til I get another mission. 
“That reminds me…Arm has been quiet as of late. Sigh…they are up to no good…” I spoke to no one in particular, walking back to the Quiet Isle lodge. 
Quiet Isle is an inn in an area a little off the center of the Capital. I stayed there for the past three weeks after finishing my last mission. The price to stay is cheap, while still being comfortable. It has comfortable rooms, a clear view, free breakfast, and most importantly, it wasn’t noisy at all! Bonus points for the innkeepers, as they have been nothing but sweethearts.  
All-in-all, a good Inn if you’re looking to get your coins worth. 
I went through the inn’s doors, a sweet aroma of lavender hitting my nostrils as I neared the front desk.  
The Innkeepers were an old couple, and the misses genuinely enjoyed the smell of lavender. That is why, as you walk through the inn, you’ll be met with an influx of light purples from the flowers. 
Reaching the desk, I was greeted by a senior woman whose smile could cure all kinds of child injuries. 
“Oh! Why if it is the youth I’m all too familiar with!” The old granny said, delighted to see me. 
 “Greetings, Granny Fes,” I vowed curtly with a small smile. “Have there been any new guests at the inn?” I asked as she extended her hand to give me a piece of candy. 
Receiving the small candy, I offered a small ‘thank you.’ She said a quick ‘You’re welcome!’ before responding to my question. “Yes, yes! I welcomed a few new guests shortly after you left this morning for a stroll!” she excitedly told me. 
“Two of the five I welcomed are a couple expecting a child! Isn't that exciting? Ouu, to be young again…” 
“Oh, please. I say you are still quite young!” I say to get her head out of that cloud. 
“Fufufu, you are too kind [Name].” Granny Fes pinched my cheek as she got a bit flustered. “I believe one day you’ll meet a handsome young man that is suited just for you.” She added. 
I blushed a little, “Oh no, I don’t think that will happen…” I pause for a second. “Do you really think I’ll get lucky enough to have that...?” I asked, not believing I would get someone special to spend my days with. 
“Don’t give me that!” Granny Fes yelled, as if scolding one of her own. “You are beautiful! Which man wouldn't dream of having a wife such as yourself!?” 
All I could do was smile in response. This is how I want things to always go. Living in a peaceful area, sharing memories with people I meet along the way, even starting a family. Arm is nowhere near that picture. And it will never be. 
But alas. Good things always end. 
“Ah! That reminds me. [Name],” she called my name and handed me an envelope, “You received mail from a young lad. He said it was urgent.”  
Looking at the envelope as Granny Fes left to continue her job, I had an ominous feeling, yet I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  
I turned it around only to see Arm’s seal stamped on it. Arm only sends letters if it is an important mission, and based on the color of the seal, it is of utmost importance.  
I am already not liking this I thought, refusing to open the letter. Maybe if I were to pretend its existence was nothing but a useless paper, it would disappear. But alas, I needed to open the envelope. With worry present in my face I opened it with the seal. Inside was a letter addressing Agent White Gold.  
That code name. It is the thing I despised most in this world. 
To Agent White Gold, 
Play time is up, White Gold. You have been assigned a mission in the Henituse Territory. We have discovered the traces of the leader of the organization known as ‘True Arm.’ Your mission is to go there and find out who the leader of the organization is, dead or alive. It is your choice which one you pick.  
A carriage will come to pick you up at sunrise, so don’t miss it.  
Once you arrive at your destination one of our men will greet you and guide you to your resting location and hand you an envelope. Inside, you will find descriptions of the one we are looking for, alongside a list of individuals that we found to match the description of our target. 
Remember, Agent, we are counting on your success. 
Don’t disappoint us, 
Arm 
Dammit… The moment I receive some peace after working for them like a slave…! I angrily store the letter to shreds, as if it were them instead of the letter. All I wanted was to disappear from the eyes of those bastards. They took me from my home, changed me to fit in an identity they made…they just can’t leave me alone, can they? 
 
I wanted to say no. To be able to run away to a far corner of the world so they would never be able to find me. But it is impossible. No one leaves. Rather, they die. Dying was the only way out. 
Yet, I want to live. 
I looked at Granny Fes as she talked with a few guests that were checking out. At that moment I knew that if I tried to escape, they would get everyone I was surrounded by. She doesn't deserve that. Neither does her husband, or her children and grandchildren. 
It is best I comply. 
“Sigh…Once you're in, there is no escaping their grasp…”  
The sky was tainted in hues of blues, purples, and oranges. The sun was rising from the nap it took, and fully ready to greet us. 
A carriage arrived early at the Quiet Isle Inn. Inside stood Granny Fes and Gramps Liy right next to me. Their eyes expressed sadness when looking at me. 
“Why so sad?” I asked the couple. 
“Oh, it’s just…it’s just that we’re both sad you’re leaving so soon.” Granny Fes confessed. Her husband, a bit more stubborn, only scuffed. Granny Fes elbowed him hard with a smile still shooting at me, gaining a small scowl from Gramps Liy. 
“AGHEM,” he raised one hand to fake a cough, “I guess you will be missed.” 
I laugh at his antics. Deep down he cares, he just has an unconventional way of expressing his feelings. 
“I’ll miss the two of you.” I looked at them with a small hinge of sadness but kept a smile to reassure them. I looked outside to see the coachman wave his hand signaling that he was ready for departure. “It seems I must go,” I turned to them, “see you later?” 
“Yes, yes. Goodbye little lady.” Gramps Liy ‘shud’ me to the carriage as he and his wife stared at me opening the door of the carriage. 
“Farewell, sweetheart. Make sure to take good care of yourself. And remember to look out for good lads while you’re traveling!” Granny Fes nagged me like I was about to never come back. Although, she was right about that. I don’t think I will be able to come back if I want to protect them. 
I laughed and said a small ‘I will!’ as I climbed into the carriage. Closing the door the carriage started moving. I waved to the couple one last time before I could not see them anymore. 
Sighting, I took out the map I packed. Looking at my destination, it was a few days from the capital. “This is going to be a loong trip…” I commented, making myself comfortable for the journey ahead. 
I hope I get this mission done quickly, so I can get another vacation from Arm. I looked up at the ceiling. I mean…how hard could it be to find this ‘leader’ anyways? 
… 
An old butler walks dutifully around the state halls. In hand, he holds a tray with a fancy tea set with a steel dome keeping the food inside warm; its aroma could be smelled by the passing housekeepers with wet laundry. 
The butler knocked at a door, he did not have to wait long, as he got an immediate response from the person inside. Opening the door he says his greetings. 
“Good morning, young master. I brought breakfast along with your favorite drink.” He says as he places down the tray on the table close to the window. 
“Ah, thank you, Ron.” A male voice thanked the butler. 
“It is my pleasure, young master Cale.” The butler, Ron, bowed. 
The man, who is now identified as Cale, sat down on the table to enjoy his breakfast. 
“Young master, if I may…” Ron waited for permission to continue speaking. 
“*Sight* Just spit it out.” Cale said in an uninterested voice. This is another one of his tangents. Drinking the lemonade that Ron made as he thinks of Ron’s earlier endeavors. 
Ron smiled, “I have detected Arm activity within the city.” 
“PFF–” spilling all the lemonade on the cup, he looked at Ron with widened eyes.
What is Arm doing here?! They have more pressing issues to deal with! Like, figuring out who Real Arm is! Cale’s thought went haywire.
 
Ron took his handkerchief out and gave it to Cale to use. 
“What do you mean there is Arm activity in the city? Is it more bombs?” He asked while using the cloth given to him to clean the mess he made. 
He shook his head, “no, at least not yet. I have seen them snoop around the city for information. It would seem we left them a small lead.” 
“Not good…” 
“If you’d prefer, young master, I could go rabbit hunting.” 
Looking at Ron with a drop of sweat evident in his forehead, he reluctantly answered. “...do whatever you want.”  
“Hehe. Then I will take my leave.” He bowed before leaving the room without making a sound. 
Scary old man. He looked outside pouring more lemonade in his cup. It’s not a good sign if Arm is here. I need to prepare in case they strike. 
… 
“Hey, wake up! We’re almost there!” 
“WHAT? HUH–huh?” I got up from my seat at lightning speed, looking around in a daze. As I scoot closer to the window, I see the giant walls looming overhead. On top of one of the towers built in the wall was a flag. It was the Henituse’s family crest imprinted on it.  
I’m already in the Henituse territory! 
Getting closer at the entrance door of the city, the carriage stopped, as they had to do a check before letting anyone in. 
“Execute me, m’lady. May I have your identification paper?” A soldier asked me. 
Security check? When I traveled to other places, they didn’t ask for my identification but the coachman’s. 
I handed him the paper without complaint, receiving it right after he checked that everything was good. The other soldiers gave him a thumbs up after checking the carriage and the coachman. Without further interruption they let us through, wishing us a happy stay. 
“That was…something.” 
The coach man dropped me off at a tavern near the city square. Going upstairs to the second floor of the establishment, I sat down at a table near the edge of the balcony. Waiting for the man that was supposed to give me the information mentioned in the letter I looked out into the streets, I could see the liveliness of the people.  
They were too lively in my opinion. 
Hearing footsteps approaching my table I diverted my attention to them. I was greeted with a man wearing a hat with fancy clothing. 
“Hello, m’lady,” the man greeted by taking his hat off and vowing curtly. 
Didn’t know Arm also had rich allies. I thought, seeing the man's mannerisms. 
“Good evening,” I vowed slightly, “are you the one mentioned in the letter?” 
“Eager now, are we?” He sat down in front of me with a smug smile. He placed his hat down before taking out an envelope. He slid it across the table. As I grabbed it, I took out its content.  
It was a list of suspects. They all had red hair and were male. And that was it. No underground activities, no records, nothing. 
“That’s…it?”  
This is the only information they managed to find…seriously? I thought. Was someone able to sneak past Arm’s noses? How is that even possible? 
“Unfortunately, it is.” 
“Ha...!” I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I looked up at the man after reviewing the list of suspects.  
“This is the only description we managed to find,” the smile on his face dropped into a frown, “only at the low cost of our scouts: a single spy was able to escape long enough to hide a piece of paper in a tree trunk…” he said. 
“....” I looked down at the list.  
To be able to kill all of our scouts…this is no meek foe. Just thinking of how strong they are sends shivers down my spine…  
“I have arranged a small room at an Inn close by here. I have left some equipment at your disposal. The location is on one of the papers in the envelope.” The man stood up and put his hat on, adjusting his suit a little before looking at me.  
“If you need anything else, I left a card at your place with instructions as to how you can contact me. Remember I’m at your service m’lady, Tata! ~” 
“I will keep that in mind.” 
Watching as he disappeared behind the doors of the second floor, I decided to order something to eat before heading to my fixed place. 
 
“…a festival?” Cale looked at the flier given to him. 
“That’s right,” Count Deruth, Cale’s father, said nonchalantly, “the festival will brighten the people's moods, as well as show that we are financially good.” 
Politics…. 
“Wait, here it says the ‘Henituse’s’ are attending…I don’t have to attend…right?” 
Deruth raised an eyebrow in question. “You don’t have to go.” 
“...” 
I must go. *Sight* My well-deserved rest has been postponed once again… can’t I catch a break for once? 
“On that note, I have reserved a spot on the city square where we will be presiding during the time,” he said as Cale gave him back the paper.  
“You don’t have to talk–or better said–you don’t have to even move. Just sitting there is enough.” 
Cale smiled at this I don’t have to move? Seems perfect to me! 
“I’ll be attending in that case.” 
“The festival will start in a few days. Be ready.” 
Cale exited his father’s study, walking back to his room. 
I need to tell Ron about this. It’ll be no surprise if Arm takes advantage of the festival. There stands a man with black hair waiting outside Cale’s room for him to come. 
“!” 
“Young master Cale!” The man runs towards him with puppy-like energy. 
“Hans, is there something you need?” Cale asked. 
“I heard from Ron that there have been suspicious activities happening in the city. So, I came to ask for permission to investigate.” Hans explained. 
Cale hummed. Strange. Usually, you would do these types of things without letting me know. Perhaps he thinks this is a bit dangerous and if he doesn't return, we know where to look? 
“You can do as you please, no need to ask for my permission.” 
“I see…thank you young master,” Hans vowed, “I will report back immediately once I find anything!” As he said that, he began to leave. 
“Oh, and, Hans?” Cale spoke before he could fully leave. 
“Yes, Cale?” 
“If you find anything, make sure to report first. Don’t go around making havoc, got it?” Cale instructed. 
“...yes” Hans responded with a bit of thinking, knowing it was the best decision. 
Let’s see what they have in store for us. Cale entered his room, he’ll laze around until the festival actually begins. What a bother… 
… 
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