#leave no trace behind like you dont even exist

[cherryblossomshadow]

Limited Edition

Summary:

“Don’t worry, I’m clearing out all my Nerd Shit.” Deku held up the duffel he was packing. “I won’t take up anymore of your space.” “What the fuck do you mean your space? Everything that’s mine is yours, dumbass!” . Everyone had always said their time would run out. Even Katsuki’s closest friends wondered how Deku put up with him. Katsuki didn’t really know either, but he knew for damn sure he’d never give him up without the fight of his life. And Katsuki was really good at fighting.

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This is my first BNHA fic 🤞 btw this fic is much closer to fanon Bakugo than canon

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1815 words

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Helpful link to AO3

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"I fucking knew something was up."

Katsuki watched Deku nearly jump out of his skin, like he was a comic book character or something. Deku turned around slowly, guilt plastered all over his face.

"Kacchan! I- Uh, I didn't think you'd be back yet," Deku fiddled with his bracelet, the way he always does when he's nervous. Katsuki had always felt quietly proud whenever he saw that nervous tick. He liked to think that he was lending him strength through time and space via the power of a 15-year old friendship bracelet. But if he was, the nerd wouldn't be packing up and leaving in the most cowardly way possible.

"Well, I'm back. And I'm wondering what the fuck my boyfriend is doing trying to fucking ghost me like we haven't been living together for years. You even packed up the fucking Silver?!" Walking through the apartment was like touring a fucking ghost town. Deku had taken down the squad photos from the entryway. Packed up his half of the closet. And most of what was technically Deku’s bedroom (but was in reality the All Might shrine) was already stuffed into the half-full duffel bag in his hands.

Deku had been so quiet after the altercation with Shigaraki at that stupid award show. He stopped flooding Katsuki’s notifs with random memes. Stopped nagging him about his shoes. Stopped stealing from his “secret” candy stash. Deku was pulling away, and he knew it. Everyone had always said their time would run out. Even Katsuki’s closest friends wondered how Deku put up with him. Katsuki didn’t really know either, but he knew for damn sure he’d never give him up without the fight of his life. And Katsuki was really good at fighting.

“Don’t worry, I’m clearing out all my Nerd Shit.” Deku held up the duffel he was packing. “I won’t take up anymore of your space.”

“What the fuck do you mean your space? Everything that’s mine is yours, dumbass!” Katsuki hated feeling helpless, but he didn’t fucking know what to do.

His eyes roved over the rolling suitcase in the corner with an already full duffel beside it. How the fuck did Deku fit his entire life into a suitcase and two duffels? Katsuki felt nauseous. Was their life together so easy to leave behind?

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Kacchan,” Deku gently chided. “You don’t have to take care of me anymore. I’m gonna go back to my mother’s in Musutafu.” Deku’s hands flexed, and he spun around to continue packing. He pressed on, “She’s been trying to set me up at the shop for months now. You know Iida is in the area, and he’ll make sure Shigaraki doesn’t cause any trouble. You don’t have to protect me anymore…”

Katsuki shook his head, like that would change the words he was hearing. Did Deku really feel like an accessory to his life and not his central sun? A sun that both warms and centers him. The object he revolves around, without whom his movements make no sense.

He knew his reputation, but hearing Deku lay out his plan so calmly didn’t make him mad or jealous, so much as unmoored. Deku was the most constant thing in his life. Always cheering him on, always applauding his achievements, yes. But also, always pushing him to be better. Demanding it, even. His north star, his moral compass. Deku would spiral into his crazy rabbit holes and resurface to point him in exactly the right direction. Who would Kacchan be without Deku?

“I’ll still be cheering you from afar! And I’ll buy every album you put out and everything. But everyone says it would be better if I left you alone and I know tha-”

“What does that mean, ‘better if you left me alone’ ?” He’s not exactly surprised to hear that. Everyone they know has said a variation of that at one time or another. But he thought they were together in shoving other people’s noses out of their business. If Deku needs to go find better, then fine, Katsuki will maybe die inside but he’ll fucking deal. But if Deku is leaving for any reasons other than his own…

“Well, you know,” Deku hedged, pausing in rolling up the All Might 2 movie poster. “That whole thing last month … it uh, got a little out of hand. I swear, I wasn’t trying to make it worse, but-”

“You didn’t fucking make it worse. You stopped me from ending that motherfucker’s life.” Deku was entirely blameless in Katsuki’s eyes. That handsy motherfucker, on the other hand … if he got within 100 feet of Deku again, he was gonna fucking meet Katsuki’s fists again. And they didn’t get along so well the first time.

Deku set down the poster solemnly, looking down at the ground. “I know. Kacchan, I’m so sorry-”

“Sorry for what?” Katsuki was extremely lost here. It’s not his fucking fault Shigaraki doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Or that Katsuki took it upon himself to show him where his hands belong.

What was Deku even apologizing for? He had to know Katsuki of all people would never hold anything against him. Deku could pull his heart out of his chest, and Katsuki would thank him for the privilege to be held so tightly.

Deku spun around, tears brimming in his eyes. “I’m sorry I was even there that night! If it wasn’t for me, you never would have gotten into that fight and gotten into so much trouble! I knew I should have been lying low, but I just couldn’t miss watching you accept that award! And now your career might never recover!” Deku curled in on himself, in obvious distress.

Katsuki couldn’t believe what he heard. “Deku … please tell me you’re not trying to leave me for my career.” He had fucking failed as a boyfriend if Deku thinks he’d choose anything over him. Fame, fortune, fucking food … none of it compares.

Deku sniffed. “It’s your childhood dream. I-I wouldn’t dare take that away from you.” He shook his head, shrinking in on himself. He did that so often. Trying to erase himself, like he doesn't even exist.

“So … you were just gonna run?” Katsuki got still and quiet. “Just pack everything up and leave?”

“I-” Deku trailed off, at a loss for words for once.

Katsuki clenched his fists so tightly, he was surprised they didn’t explode. This fucking nerd really thought he could leave without a trace? Just disentangle himself entirely? As if he wouldn't rip out a part of Katsuki by leaving?

Katsuki was practically a god of music, and his career would survive much worse controversies than this. It’s not a choice between his boyfriend and his career. And if it was? Fuck his career! He's had more than plenty minutes of fame, and the hordes of adoring masses have nothing on the stars in Deku's eyes when Katsuki cooks up a new dish or kills a bug for him or rearranges the furniture or whatever.

How could he possibly think Katsuki would choose a fucking job over him! He almost lost Deku once, he's never fucking losing him again!

He was lucky enough Deku was willing to forgive him once he got his head out of his ass in high school. Katsuki won't leave Deku's side until both of their hearts stop. He'll either figure out a way to keep Deku's ashes with him or to fucking haunt him in the afterlife, depending on which one of them goes first.

“You really thought you could just disappear from my life, just like that?”

Deku nodded hesitantly. “Jeanist has it all figured out. The public barely knows I exist, just what the tabloids said about the award show. Jeanist said he’ll figure out how to spin it for the public, and you can do an interview. Maybe you can say I’m a stalker, or an acquaintance from middle school-”

“An ‘acquaintance?’ Fuck the public! They don't get to have the real me. Only you. If you want me.” Katsuki locked his gaze on Deku’s, heart in his throat.

“Oh, Kacchan." Deku's eyes went real soft. "You know you’re all I’ve ever wanted. I spent my entire childhood chasing after you, worried I would never catch up. You knew, even back then, that I would only bring you down, hold you back, and I chased you anyway." Deku dashed tears away, volume rising as he got more upset. “But you were right. I’m jeopardizing your career. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get this far! I can’t ruin your life!” Deku yelled.

“You’re not ruining my life!” Katsuki yelled back. He was still mad and worried, but at the same time, felt so fucking relieved. He hasn’t lost him, not yet. Not ever, if I can help it.

“Kacchan,” Deku shook his head. “Your childhood dream is at stake!”

“Yeah, my childhood dream. I already achieved it. Because of you! And yeah, it's been great and like the best job ever. I’m amazing at it. But I don't dream about the adoring fans, the crowdsurfing, the big stadium tours or what the fuck ever anymore. I dream about you, nerd. Our life together. So what, if they cancel me or drop me? I don't need a label to write songs. I was made to sing, and I’m gonna sing until the day I die, no matter what happens. I can just put that shit on MeTube or whatever the fuck Sparky’s always going on about.”

“But your career-”

“Will never be as important to me as you, dumbass.” Katsuki grabbed his shoulders firmly, ducking to catch his gaze. “Deku, you could slice open my vocal cords right now, I could never sing another note in my life, and I would still want you in it.”

Deku burst into tears anew. “Kacchan,” he huffed a laugh, wiping at his red eyes. “That's a little fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Kacchan shrugged. He stood behind his words though. “You knew that about me, though.”

“Yeah, I did,” Deku gave him a watery smile. “Kacchan, I just want what's best for you. Jeanist said I bring out the worst in you, and you’d-”

“Fuck Jeanist,” Katsuki spat, finally wrapping Deku in a hug. “I need a new manager anyway. And you’re what's best for me. Don't listen to child me. He was a punk.”

Deku laughed brokenly. “Don't say that. He was pretty cool.”

“He was also extremely stupid in some key ways. He was dead fucking wrong about you, in more ways than one. And he might have been right about the singing career, but the idiot thought it was the most important thing in the world.” Katsuki squeezed him tighter. “I can always get another job. I'll never get another you.”

“Yeah, I’m limited edition,” Deku joked.

“Fuck yeah you are. Fucking priceless.”

Don't look at me. The muse said codependent, insanely fucking obsessed bakudeku, but mostly, Bakugo just yelled about being insane about Deku. Idk how whumpy it is, but Deku sure is going through it so 🤷‍♀️

[s0dium]

Obsession

Warning: Love drunk men, fingering, titty sucking, nipple play, unprotected sex, love drunk reader

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Love courses through your veins. He’s all you can think about.

You wonder if it's normal to be this enamored with someone, to be this hopelessly head over heels infatuated and obsessed. You can't even focus on what needs to be done anymore because he's absorbed your entire being; he's in your head when you wake up, a gentle whisper in the back of your mind during conversations, a constant in your dreams, day or night.

But it's a doomed one-sided crush you remind yourself. You're not even sure if he knows you exist and in quieter moments, you wonder if perhaps it’s better this way. Loving from a distance means you never have to face the potential heartbreak of rejection, never have to see that polite smile of someone who doesn’t return your feelings. It's safer, you tell yourself, to admire him from afar, keeping your heart guarded behind the shield of daydreams and what-ifs.

So surely, right now in this moment, you must be dreaming.

It feels too vivid, too intense to be just a figment of your imagination. The warmth of his breath against your cheek, the weight of his bare body pressing gently down on yours, the softness of his lips moving against your own with an insatiable hunger—it all feels astonishingly real.

Because it is.

You don't know how but now you're naked underneath him, letting him touch, grope, suck, kiss, nip, and bite anything his hands and mouth can find. He doesn't let up either, he's exploring your body like a starved man, like he'll never get a chance to touch you ever again and wont pull away until he's had his fill.

You gasp when you feel his fingers between your legs, tracing your inner thigh before gliding between your pussy lips. Instinctively, you jerk back at the feeling; his fingers collecting your arousal and sliding up and down. But before you can speak, he kisses you again, his tongue eagerly intertwining with yours. When he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless, a thin strand of saliva connects your mouths.

"Just let me take care of you okay?" He hums before dipping two fingers into your tight hole. "Just been waiting so long to do this."

You don't even have time to react before he's curling his digits and massaging a sweet spot you could only dream about hitting on your own. His other hand gropes your left breast and with his index and thumb, begins to play with your perky nipples. As if that wasn't enough, his mouth found your other breast and gave it the same attention, licking sucking, and rolling your nipple like it was candy.

Colors dance across your closed eyelids and you wonder if this is heaven, if you've died and reached nirvana because the pleasure is just that good. You dont know if you can handle this, handle the fact that he's sucking and playing with your nipples while finger fucking you. Your toes curl and uncurl from the hot searing euphoria that is absorbing your body and emitting from your core. Your back arches off the bed and your crying his name, moaning it even, something you only dreamed about doing late at night when you craved him.

Suddenly, his mouth releases your nipple with a pop and he ceases all of his ministrations, leaving you breathless and confused.

"Fuck, I-" He's breathless himself, his face flushed and pupils blown. "Need to be inside you, need to feel you." He practically groans, and you thickly gulp at his words. Your brain goes fuzzy and you dizzily watch him pull down his boxers, the length slapping against his abdomen after being released from its confines.

He watches you lay down on the bed, breasts and cunt glistening from juices. You dont know this but he actually thinks he is dreaming. You look like a painting right now and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from spilling just at the sight of you.

"Please," You whine, "Please fuck me."

Who is he to deny you?

Without a word he presses his tip against your entrance and slides into you, grunting at the snug fit of your walls. You let out a loud moan from the feeling of him filling you so so perfectly, so well you mentally curse yourself for thinking a dildo or your fingers could ever do the job.

Then with a moan of his own, he slides out of you, nearly leaving you empty, before rocking himself back into you. Oh, how he wanted to fuck you slow and nice, like you deserved, but as the seconds passed, his resolve seep away until he just couldn't possibly hold back anymore.

His thrusts become faster, quicker, slamming in and out of you with such vigor and ease due to your combined juices coating and dripping from both his length and your hole. The friction is delicious, and his tip seems to hit your g-spot perfectly with each thrust. He even grabs the underside of your thigh and pushes them against you, effectively folding you and half and allowing him to go even deeper inside you.

You could feel your rational slipping away as he groaned about how fucking good you felt, about how good you where taking him, how he had been dreaming about this. You want to say something too, say something about how you feel the same way, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth right now is wanton moans of his name.

The pleasure was becoming too much, it had been slowly building and building and you know your about to break any second, burst with such euphoria you don't know if you will ever come back from the high. Before you do though, your brain manages to work again for half a millisecond to express the exact words you are feeling.

"Love you! M'love you so much!" You gasped before letting yourself succumb to the mind-numbing orgasm that was waiting for you. Your whole body shook and quaked from the pleasure and your mind went white. You thought you might cry, from happiness or pleasure you did not know. But you didn't. You simply went limp while you let him use your body like a sex doll.

You are barely clinging onto consciousness when you feel his hips stutter against you and he scoops you up, holding you close while he cums inside you.

"Love you too, love you too." He groans against your ear.

Any character you want ;)

[buckysmith]

They cheat on you Part 1

Don’t read it if you don’t like it

No matter the sex of you or the chara, all of the MW chara cheat on you with a woman

It’s an HEADCANON and a REQUEST :)

Includes :

Price, Alejandro, Soap, König, Farah, Gaz and Phillip Graves

I removed Rudy and for ppl that read it, I’m sorry.

Warning: Toxic behavior, obviously cheating DONT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE THE TOPIC IN THE FIRST PLACE

Price:

- he calls you everytime he can, he wants to see you or at least hear your voice

-he knows that you are worried about him, so he does his best to take away your fears

- your relationship is harmonious, there are rarely fights and when there are fights, you both settle it like adults and most of the time you don't have a fight longer than half an hour

- that silent treatment does simply not exist

- if one of you both is bothered by something the other does or not does, the problem is addressed and solved

- the day you found out was your third anniversary

-you called Laswell to ask when 141 would arrive at the base, because you wanted to make a surprise for your husband

- so you called his favorite restaurant, reserved seats, went to buy a bouquet of flowers and his favorite cigars

- you just wanted to give him a little surprise

- And thanks to a keycard that John had given you, you got into the base without much trouble

- you didn't know where his private room was on the base, but you knew where his office was, so you went there

- but before you could knock, you could hear voices, one female and the other belonging to your husband

- it was clear to hear what the two persons were arguing about

- you could hear him...

- he had slept with her, not once, not twice, but so incredibly many times over the past years

- she was screaming at him, wanting him to finally end the relationship with you, but all you could hear him say was that he was married, that he loved you and she was only good enough for fast and good sex, that she went along with the things he didn't want to do to you

- that the  sex with you was just not good enough, but he loved you for your personality and that's why he only got his sexual needs from her

- you could feel your heart breaking, the icy cold feeling spreading through your body and going into every vein of your body

- you were on autopilot, you turned around and went back to your car

- you completely blanked out the drive home, you didn't know how you got home and in the next moment you were in the cabin.

- You could hear the fire crackling in the fireplace, Price's dogs were looking at you from their beds and the cats were watching you from their scratching post. - It was almost as if they knew something had happened.

- so now you were standing in the middle of  your- no, his cabin not knowing where to start

- but you had to be strong now and think rationally, he didn't know you knew and you probably had only an hour before he would come home, if not less

- so you gathered up your important papers, everything you could quickly pack into your suitcase.

- Years of marriage passed by, you never dreamed he would cheat on you, yet here you were, three years of marriage and two more of being together in a single suitcase.

- You had often asked him if your sex life was good, if he had any desires or improvements, but he denied it.

- that once your marriage failed because of that, such an  military spouse thing...

- after feeding the dogs and cats, you put your suitcase in your car and paused there for a moment to collect your thoughts.

- after a last look at the cabin you drove away and leaving your old life behind you

- he came home not even half an hour after you left the cabin with a huge bouquet of flowers, a reservation at your favorite restaurant and a trip to the place you always wanted to visit.

- But he found nothing but emptiness, the lights were on, the animals were fed and it smelled like you. But your clothes were missing, your important papers and any trace of you.

- he called you hundreds of times, but it always went to voicemail

- Hours passed before he knew you were alive and well.

- he had your phone hacked to find out where you were and then went there

- he was pissed, didn't know why you left, but when he saw you he knew what had happened

- he could tell you knew.

- he tried to talk to you about it, tell you he loved you and all that  shit, but you told him that if he was a man he would make the divorce easy.

- in the year you two had to live apart to finalize the divorce he tried over and over again to save the relationship, to fix his mistake

- it's on you to take the risk of letting him back into your life

- but in the end, would you be able to trust him? If you wouldn't, you shouldn't take him back, cause in the end, you're the one the one who gets hurt the most.

A Little extra (when you're able to get pregnant and you also want too/ want to have kids (adopt when u can have kids)/ your animals)

- you both had been trying to have a child for a long time, but you just did not get pregnant

- you also had problems with your periods and sometimes it just did not come for months

- but after you broke up you started to feel unwell, you were constantly tired, drained and you just didn't feel well

- it got so bad that you had to go to the doctor just to find out that you were pregnant and you knew exactly who the father of the child was

- you didn't have long to decide if you wanted to keep it or if you should abort it.

- should you tell Price about it, since it was his child too, or should you save yourself the stress?

- In the end, you had to decide what was the best  for you and the little one in you

Adopted

- it was kinda hard for you, the divorce was one thing the other one was the fight for custody of your child since the little one was adopted

- you got full custody and he got visitation

- the only problem was to explain to your baby why daddy didn't lived with the both of you anymore and why you had to move away

Animals

- ofc you took your animals with you, I mean, how could you leave those faithful souls behind!?

- nah they were the first thing you packed in your car, only their fur sibling that belonged to price stayed behind which confused them

- why weren't you taking the others with you?

- the last thing you saw were a lot of sad little puppy and kitty eyes as you closed the door behind you

Soap:

- you knew soap was a player before you got together, that he never missed an opportunity to sleep with the next best thing

- whether it was a cute girl at the bar or a strong military woman, he'd sleep with anyone who gave him a good vibe.

- but you were sure that he was faithful to you, that he would never do anything like that, because he himself was always upset about such men,  women and people who cheated on their partners

- for him it was a sign of weakness

- Loyalty was something he swore to his country and to you.

- his sex drive was also extremely high

- one of the reasons why he had so many one night stands before he met you

- every time he came home from a mission, there was never a day that you didn't have sex until the day he had to go on a mission again

- he introduced you to his family quite early, it was clear to him that you were the person for his life.

- his parents were relieved that their son was finally getting involved in something serious and as warm as they were to you they were almost like your own parents

- you had also met Price, Gaz and Johnny's best friend named Ghost.

- Ghost, whose real name was Simon, introduced you to his partner after a while, as you were both from the same country/state.

- you two became really good friends, because often your two men were on missions together and you could then pass the time together

- time went by and Johnny asked you to marry him.

- the day of your wedding was beautiful, the sun was shining, hardly a cloud was to be seen and it was really warm for Scotland.

- You were making small fixes to yourself when Simon's partner came into your room.

- you could see from their face that it was not good news

- Simon's partner had overheard him talking to Johnny about telling you before the wedding that he had cheated on you.

- of course you didn't believe a word of it at first, but Simon's partner had recorded everything

- Simon's partner had also taken pictures from Simon's cell phone, in which John had also sent him various spicy pictures of various people

- he had bragged that he could have anyone he wanted even now

- he had cheated on you not only once, but every time he was on a mission.

- all the sweet words he had whispered in your ear, how much he loves you, how much he desires you and that you are the only person for his life while he made love to you

- all lies

- Johnny was already in the church, waiting for you to show, but you didn't

- his mom was the first to look for you, but she didn't find you anywhere

- everyone went looking for you, while they suspected you just got cold feet

- Simon's partner had expected you to leave and not make a scene in front of hundreds of guests, so he had brought his buddy from London without Simon's knowledge

- that friend  drove with you to the house of you and John

- it didn't take long until you had packed the most important things

- the cat that John had given you for your engagement was the first thing you put in the car

- the friend named James, who helped you, also offered you to move in with him, as he was looking for a flatmate anyway

- you left your phone behind, everything that could track you was left behind and also James had his phone turned off all the time so as not to leave a trace

- everyone was looking for you, your friends and family were worried, hell everyone who was at the wedding was worried about you and John kept calling you until he went with Simon late at night to your shared apartment

- it took a week to find you, as you avoided public places and cameras and hardly left the flat

- you had contacted your family and friends during the week and told them that you were not going to marry John, but that you needed some time to yourself

- James worked in a bar and left you with ice cream and a movie in his apartment

- you had ordered a pizza at eleven p.m. so you were not confused when the doorbell rang just before 12 p.m.

- you wanted to slam the door as soon as you realized who was standing in front of you, but John was in the apartment faster than you could look

- he didn't touch you for the time being, but closed the door behind him and walked slowly towards you, while his eyes were examining the apartment

- the moment he started to speak made you gulp, his voice was deeper than usual and you could see from his body language how incredibly angry, hurt and aggressive he was

- you could literally see his artery beating on his neck

- He asked you if you had left him for another man, if you had cheated on him.

- he asked you if the other man was the reason that you left him at the altar

- that you threw away all those years for another guy as if he never meant anything to you

- his words made you angry

- the moment he stopped throwing accusations at you, you went into your room followed by him

- he grabbed you painfully by the wrist, turned it painfully around and pulled you to him, but you gave him a slap, so he let go of you

- it was a reflex out of which he had held you and it was a reflex that you had punched him

- you had printed out all the evidence, all the pictures with him and other women, everything

- you threw the sheets in his face and they spread around him like a blazing fire

- his facial expression changed within seconds

- it took him a few seconds to catch himself, but at the moment he was about to explain himself you stopped him

- you loved John more than anything, you both had already been through good and rough times, but this was not a rough time.

- the decision to sleep with friends, different women, to betray you so many times and then to talk about it to someone and show off, that was not a mistake, it was a decision which drew consequences

- he tried to touch you, but you tried to keep the distance you kept between him and you and yet you were against the nearest wall faster than you liked, his body pressed gently against yours

- such an Wattpad moment you thought

- he put his hand to your cheek as he took away any possibility of escaping him

- he begged you for a chance, just one chance and he would do anything to make you not regret it

- he told you how much he would love you, how much he desired you

- that was the moment you interrupted him

- he moved  or better you pushed him away from you when you said that now he could desire the body of any other, because before one partner was not enough for him, now he could desire as many bodies as he wanted cause he's single

- every time you had a new number, he had it within a few hours and begged you to give him one last chance

- this went on for months, during which he didn't sleep with any other woman, didn't even look at anyone and sent you so many gifts that the apartment you lived in almost exploded

- he tried to meet you as many times as he could and saw how happy you became with each meeting

- he had the hope that you would get together again

- but someone from your past life had taken in a new place

- you have a choice, do you choose Soap and risk that he cheats on you again even though he's a good lover and you had already planned your future with him + be promised you to stay loyal

- or for the man who never stopped loving you and only wanted the best for you even after you turned him down many years ago.

- are you really going to choose the man that stayed loyal even tho he was not once in a relationship with you, or the man that had everything but threw it away for some quick fuck

- it's your choice but you have to live with it, there's no turning back when things go down again

Gaz

- his father had cheated on his biological mother with his stepmother, who later married his biological mother

- his father was never in the picture, his ego couldn't tolerate that the two women he had played suddenly formed a family that "belonged" to him

- for him it was a sign of character weakness to be unfaithful

- he also did not understand the concept of poly, for him it was very clear that he would only want to have one partner at the same time

- he also had one night stands but that was all before he met you

- you two were inseparable, balanced each other out and not only from the outside you were a dream couple

- you rarely had disagreements

- you had a big fight when he joined 141, you were afraid that he would die while fighting for his country in a group "nobody" knew about

- but after you got to know the captain and the others, your worries about your husband's health diminished as you saw how good they all were

- however, after a while your relationship started to crumble

- he was constantly annoyed by you, grumbled at you for the smallest things, slept on the sofa and also you didn't have sex anymore or the slightest touches

- you suggested countless times couple therapy for both of you, but he always refused it

- it went so far that he no longer came home but slept at a friend's house

- but just before you wanted to break up because you saw no more chance, he came back

- everything was normal again

- he gave you flowers and despite good care they withered after a few days, it was as if a curse was on the flowers of Gaz since the one you bought yourself stayed good even after weeks

- your love life also got better, he always did new things with you which made your head spin

- your relationship became better than it had ever been

- about a year later gaz was on a mission

- you knew when he was coming back and decided to pick him up for the first time on base

- it was not difficult for you to enter the base because you had a good friend there

- but you were still lost at the base, everything looked the same to you so you approached a man maybe a little older than gaz

- he was well built, had a hawk and a really nice smile when he looked at you, right away this man was sympathetic to you

- you asked him if he happened to know the whereabouts of Kyle Garrick who belonged to 141

- the man smiled at you, asked you why you were looking for him to which you replied that he was your boyfriend  and you wanted to surprise him.

- the moment you mention that Gaz is your boyfriend, the man's face collapses in front of you and he turns even whiter than he was before

- as he nervously begins to scratch his head and avoid eye contact you feel nauseous

- when you asked him what was going on, he only said that he can't tell you

- he tells you that you better go back home, but of course you insist on seeing your boyfriend

- he then shows you where gaz is before he quickly disappears

- you open the door and the first thing you see is gaz putting on his boxers and you can't help but smile

- but your smile dies as he looks at you in shock before looking to the bed, just then you notice the naked woman in his bed.

- you could feel your heart breaking

- when you left he wanted to stop you and explain himself to you but one look from you was enough and he did not stop you

- the next four days you spent with your best friend

- on the fifth day you went home

- he sat on your sofa, on the table there were two boxes from your favorite restaurant

- but it was seven in the morning and the smell coming from them revealed that they were in fact not fresh

- he looked like he hadn't slept for the last few days, but with the two bottles of Jack Daniels on the table you were surprised, with so much alcohol he should  have slept through an entire war

- a part of you wanted to join him when he whimpered  your name , the other part enjoyed that he suffered

- when he asked you to listen to him you wanted to refuse, but then you sat down and listened his story

- he told you that no matter how much he apologized to you, it wouldn't make anything better or change anything but it was important for him to explain

- he also told you that it was not your fault, it was his own fault and that he would understand if you left him and didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore

- he also told you how it came to this

- it was apparently a long affair which started after you had your last big fight before your relationship improved again

- he told you that he was just a good friend to her in the beginning, but that night he drank too much and woke up the next morning with a bad headache, a blackout and with her in his bed

- he wanted to tell you the same day what happened, but she "seduced" him again and they had sex again

- after that it became something regular and then almost every day when they saw each other

- he asked you at the end if there would be another chance for you, because he would do everything for it

- you told him honestly that you couldn't trust him anymore, not after he had cheated on you for such a long time

- you moved out of the apartment that same week

- he called you again and again, wrote to you and tried to build up a relationship with you again

- as a friend of yours worked on his base you saw him from time to time, but with a personality like yours you were being courted by men and women from the base which Gaz didn't like, but as you were no longer his partner he could only watch everyone flirting with you

- at least he felt the same feeling you did

Alejandro

- he has always been a passionate man, be it at work, in love or sex

- honestly, this man is a god in everything

- he didn't really want a life where he only had someone new by his side day in and day out, just for a few hours to satisfy his needs.

- he actually wanted a partner for his life, someone he would have children with and all that kind of stuff

- when you came into his life he changed, he focused on you and your relationship

- it went very well between you, hardly any arguments, good communication everything was fine

- your harmonious relationship went on for many years until five years after you got married Alejandro almost died on a mission

- you had a baby at home and after he just barely escaped death, he felt like he was missing something in his life

- the times with a baby at home were exhausting, even if he was not there often

- there were hardly any intimate moments between you anymore, especially from him and he started to despise you and his child

- the thought alone of coming home to you and the baby made him angry

- you of course noticed that your husband started to behave badly towards you, always being annoyed by you and no matter what you seemed to do, it never seemed to be enough.

- it slowly started to break you

- you were well hidden, far away from other people and he was the only one who kept you company

- he had taken you so far away from civilization for your own safety and now, now he hardly ever came home and when he did, he did nothing but complain about the smallest things

- his daily visits became weekly visits, then he came only once a month and after a total of nine months after you had your child, he stopped coming home at all

- he didn't answer your calls, let alone talk to you anymore

- you had enough after two months of not hearing from him, you were tired of hearing from Rudy that he was fine, that at least he was still alive

- but the talks with Rudy were short, never long enough to find out what was going on with him.

- you had enough of him, you had gone into exile for him and now he had abandoned you for god knows why.

- you took the most important things for your baby, and also for yourself, before you went to his base

- you just wanted to tell him in person that you were going to a friend for now and that he should think about whether he wants a couple counselor or a divorce

- it was easy to get on the base, everyone knew you even if under a different reason than the spouse of Alejandro

- but you quickly noticed the Americans who were also on the base

- after taking your baby out of its seat, you unintentionally almost ran into a soldier

- his hair was blond, his eyes blue and the small scar on his cheek looked cute, but in itself he had a really cute face

- he apologized to you that he should have paid more attention but he just couldn't remember where things were and he kept getting lost

- you felt the same way when you were on the base for the first time, it was confusing and sometimes the corridors ended in nowhere

- before you knew it you were talking to each other, he was very polite and also in dealing with your child he was very loving and careful

- even Alejandro was never that gentle with your child, which only created more doubt in your mind

- you went with Phillip Graves, he said that's his name, to the main base as you continued to talk

- somehow you got on the subject of Alejandro and he told you that the guy was a real ladies man, that he had never seen anyone flirt so well before and that he was kinda jealous of his skills

- you were confused, what was Phillip talking about?

- he seemed equally surprised at your reaction before he said confused that Alejandro took a different girl from a nearby bar to the base like every night

- he asked you if everything was ok when he saw how pale you became and you just nodded

- so that was it, he was cheating on you... that was the reason why he acted like that...

- you decide not to go to him but rather just go to your best friend's house

- Phillip had your baby in his arms during this whole time, because after he started crying he only stopped after Phillip took him in his arms

- you and Phillip were standing quite close to each other when you could hear the dark and rough voice of Alejandro

- Alejandro was quick to pull your baby and you away from Phillip

- he didn't say a word until he had pulled you into his office and before that had gave the baby to Rudy

- he started bitching at you for coming here without saying anything, for talking to a gringo ( it doesn't matter where you're from, being married to him makes you Mexican from now on)

- he ranted about Graves obviously flirting with you and said it was stupid of you to just come here

- He even accused you of flirting back. That YOU would cheat on him with that look you gave that gringo

- you listened to him in silence with your arms crossed until you looked at him with your eyebrows raised and asked him if you also should yell at him for cheating on you.

- the moment you said that his face went pale

- only a few moments later he admitted it after ofc denying, saying that he just needed something new, new experiences and that thanks to the baby you hardly had any time together anymore

- he didn't even apologize but tried to put the blame on your baby

- he even asked you if he could open the marriage so that he could get his sexual needs satisfied

- that was enough for you and you wanted to leave but he held you at your wrist and told you that you belonged to him, that you were his property and no one could touch you but him

- he was intimidating, his voice was deep and for the first time you were afraid of him, but nevertheless you freed yourself from him, telling him to go to hell

- you fetched your baby before you left

- about two months passed in which you had absolutely no contact, you hadn't changed your number and you knew if he wanted to find you, he could too

- with every day that passed you wondered why you got involved with the charming Mexican and if you were really so wrong about him

- on the same day a man stood in front of the door of your best friend's house, handing you divorce papers.

- the divorce was quick, he did not want visitation rights for your child and agreed to pay alimony.

- after a total of one year he contacted you again

- in the meantime you had found a nice house, not very far away from las Almas, you had a nice job which allowed you to have your child with you and you were earning a  good amount of money

- your life seemed to be good again, until the doorbell rang late at night

- when you checked the security cameras, you thought for a moment about throwing your child's full diaper on his head, but decided against it (unfortunately)

- you didn't know what he wanted, but the constant ringing of the doorbell would sooner or later wake up your child, which of course you didn't want to do.

- so in the end you open the door

- just as you were about to start talking, he pushed you into the apartment and closed the door behind him, just to push you against it

- you could feel your heart beating hard against your chest

- he looked thinner than you remembered him, his face was sunken and dark circles under his eyes marked his face

- he looked terrible

- you could feel his warm hand on your hip, his rough fingers gently touching your soft skin where your shirt had ridden up

- his other hand was on your cheek and the look he gave you would have melted you then

- his scent fogged you and you wanted nothing more than to give yourself to him, but that would go against all your principles so you pushed him away from you

- the expression he made then was a mixture of pain and something you couldn't place

- Did he expect something else? Probably

- you sent him away in the same breath, and he did what you said.

- every day he was standing in front of your door, with your favorite flowers

- your favorite food

- he brought you what he knew you liked, be it a book or something really expensive

- if he was not at your door, his gifts were waiting in front of it

- he also brought things for your child

- one evening you did not send him away but confronted him

- your child was with your best friend, because you had planned to talk to him and if it came to a fight you didn't want your child in between

- he started telling you that after he divorced you he kept having different partners, but he felt alone

- something seemed to be missing and with every day this feeling became bigger and stronger

- he wanted to go home, but when he was home it still felt the same as it had before

- after months he realized that he missed you, your way, your laugh, just everything about you

- everything he had found disturbing before, was what  he missed

- he tried to make contact, but Rudy stopped him, told him it was his own fault and you were better without him after what he had done to you

- but he couldn't stand it, he wanted to make it up to you, he wanted to show you that he had changed

- that you were the person he loved, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with

- you turned him down again and again, day after day, but even after months he didn't give up

- it was up to you to decide if you would give him another chance or not

- remember, your decision has consequences.

König 🔥

- it was at the same time so easy and so hard to get into the heart of König

- he mostly stayed in the background, didn't talk and always seemed to be watching everything

- his comrades in his team were nice to him, he was very reserved but they knew they could always count on him and his intuition

- he never left a man behind, even if it seemed hopeless, one of the reasons why he became the captain of the team, even if he would never call himself a captain

- he was caring to all and in private he also spoke more

- König was loyal, loving and affectionate even if he tried to hide it.

- that were the same qualities he showed in the relationship you had with him

- he was quite unsure at the beginning how to touch you

- it was just very important for him not to pressure you into something you don't want

- over the years you became a good team and he slowly opened up to strangers as well

- he was always very good looking, but he always denied it, years of bullying had left its scars

- he asked you after four years of relationship if you would want to marry him, because he wanted to be with you forever

- after your married him, your life was better than ever, the first year was wonderful, but after another half something changed

- he started to avoid you, avoiding your questions

- even your discussions about having/adopting a child stopped

- he stopped touching you, stopped showing you his naked body and started sleeping on the sofa rather than in your shared bed

- you thought it was because of his job that something might have happened but he ignored your questions

- after several months he didn't come home anymore and you knew from his team that he stayed on base

- every attempt to talk to him came to nothing and you also started to doubt your marriage

- you missed him, his gentle touches, his warmth, his words. You missed your beloved husband

- it was your second wedding anniversary, you went to work and came back in the evening to an empty house. What a surprise

- you had given up after months of no contact with your husband, so you got a lawyer to draw up the divorce papers

- you made yourself comfortable on the sofa with whisky and the divorce papers while some music was playing in the background

- you didn't care if you got anything out of the marriage, you just wanted it behind you, because why should you fight if he didn't even want to see you

- it may have just been better for both of you in the end to just end it.

- it was just before midnight when you heard the door open

- and there stood your giant, your husband with a bouquet of flowers and chocolates

- you didn't care to see him, even though your heart said otherwise

- he was just starting to speak when you interrupted him briskly

- you had enough of it, now that you were ending it all, now he came with flowers and chocolates?

- you told him before you left the living room to sign the papers on the table before he left again.

- you woke up the next morning with the smell of your favorite meal freshly made on the bedside table

- you could feel the burning eyes of your husband

- you wanted to tell him to get out of the room, but this time it was him who interrupted you

- he came straight to the point

- He told you that he had cheated on you, that he had slept with a woman.

- his teammate was supposed to sleep with her to get information, but she didn't find him attractive and made a pass at him

- his decision depended on victory or defeat and so he had to decide to sleep with the woman

- after that he just couldn't look you in the eye anymore afterwards

- he had betrayed you, he had betrayed the person he loved above everything else for a stupid job

- he started to feel disgusted with himself, he didn't want you to touch him, let alone see him naked, because he felt disgusting, like he was covered with disgusting slime

- he couldn't look you in the eye anymore and he couldn't talk to you about it, the job forbade it and even if it hadn't, he would have been too ashamed of himself to tell you right away

- but now he could talk to you about it because the mission was successful and he wanted to save your relationship

- he wanted to come back to you, he wanted to feel you as much as you wanted to feel him

- he was so sorry, so sorry that he could not put it into words

- he didn't let you get a word in edgewise before he told you to think about what you wanted to do now, that he supported you in every decision you made

- he disappeared within seconds, leaving behind only the food and the filled out papers with a small note stuck to them

- >>I filled out the papers as you asked, I won't stand in your way if you want a divorce. I just hope that maybe there is still a chance for both of us, I would do anything for that. Anything. Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz. ( I love you honey ) <<

Farah:

- she was a fighter, a mighty warrior , proud and brave like a lioness

- freedom fighters, that's what they all called themselves and Farah was the head of them

- the girl who rose like a phoenix from the ashes

- your relationship was secret, no one knew about it not even her brother or your relatives

- not only was it dangerous for both of you to be associated with each other, but her  religion was also a reason to keep your relationship a secret

- it was nevertheless very affectionate

- the shy glances between you two

- the gentle and unnoticed touches as you walked by

- the short moments you two were alone

- the feeling when your heated bodies moved  to each other's rhythm

- your relationship was secret, but no less loving

- but you had to take two different mission and for the first time you had to fight apart from each other

- but the fight went on longer than expected, two whole weeks until you could strike the final hit against the enemies which led to your victory

- but when you returned, you found Farah with a man named Alex.

- since your relationship was secret, you couldn't intervene when Alex dared to flirt with your girlfriend

- at first she assured you that she only wanted you, that you were her true love

- but after weeks, when the two of them fought again and again, side by side and with each other against the enemies, you saw how her look changed towards him

- the few moments you had died after a while

- you tried to talk to her about it again and again, but she blocked again and again, because she either had no time for you, or others were near you

- after a while you gave up

- the looks and touches you once had with her now belonged to Alex, who also tried to befriend you without knowing that Farah was your girlfriend

- the night before Farah planned the battle with Captain Price, Nikolai, gaz, Alex and the others, you wanted to try again

- you wanted to know if you and Farah were still a couple or not

- when you entered her "office" without knocking, you were greeted with a naked Alex and a naked Farah, who did the nasty

- it took you a few moments to try to process what you had seen

- you could feel your heart breaking, your stomach turning and your eyes filling with water

- the next day you went on the mission as planned, but you avoided Farah and Alex

- The mission was successful except for the fact that Alex sacrificed himself to ensure victory.

- Farah kept trying to talk to you after the mission, but you avoided her like the plague.

- you went along on every mission, making sure there were as many miles as possible between you and Farah.

- but one day, or rather night, you couldn't get away from her.

- you had night watch on the tower

- you could hear someone sitting on the bench next to you, you also knew that this someone was Farah, but you did not dignify her with a glance

- she started talking, telling you that she never wanted this to happen

- that you both just moved away from one and then Alex was just there

- you listened only half-heartedly while she listed reasons why her action was justified

- but at some point it was too much for you and you looked at her

- it was not much you said

- it was just

- "If Alex hadn't sacrificed himself in the process, would we still be talking or would you fuck him again?  I guess  you just feel alone since your beloved American is nothing more than dirt and want back what is no longer yours"

- Looking at her, she had expected everything but that.

- it wasn't easy for you after your conversation

- and after months of the two of you fighting, you decided to leave the freedom fighters

- she had tried everything to win you back, but it was like in war, there were no second chances.

Graves

- Your relationship wasn't good it was great, you had your fights here and there  yet neither of you ever went to bed angry

- it was important for both of you to understand each other

- but often Phillip could not leave the base because he had something to do, hours in which you kept him company

- he even had a couch put in his office for you, because when he wasn't on missions he had to rummage through files for Shepard, plan missions and so much more

- your relationship was not perfect, but it was incredibly loving

- after you two got married, Phillip made sure you didn't have to work anymore, so you were free to plan your day apart from household chores

- he just supported you with everything

- you wanted to use your free time to be an artist? Go ahead, Phillip is there and supported you

- your life was perfect

- Phillip came home after a deployment which separated him from you for two months

- he missed you as much as you missed him

- the first hours after he arrived home he showed you how much he missed you

- two months had accumulated

- your lovemaking went on for several hours

- you had long since fallen asleep, but although Phillip was equally exhausted, he just couldn't fall asleep

- something thanks to his job

- he was just about to close his eyes after giving you another kiss on the forehead, when your cell phone lit up

- looking at the clock next to him, he wondered who was writing to you at three in the morning

- he reached for your cell phone, opened it since he knew your PIN and looked who the message was from

- he didn't know the name or the phone number and the text was more than strange, especially because it was the only message that was in the chat beforehand

- "meet the day after tomorrow as usual, can't wait!"

- it was like he knew the answer to what he saw, but he just didn't want to accept it

- you were so perfect, always by his side in every difficult time

- you were the reason why he didn't stop to stay alive after a mission had gone wrong in which he was badly wounded

- you were by his side when he was fighting for his life in the hospital, you held his hand when he was slowly recovering, you helped him to wash himself, to do all the daily things that he couldn't do at first

- thanks to you he was able to fully recover and continue with his job and also with this decision you supported him even though you were afraid for his life

- You were by far the person he trusted the most.

- That means you were the last person he would expect to betray him.

- sleeping was now not on the table anymore.

- he put your smartphone back, got up and went into the living room where the two dogs were already sleeping

- he just sat there for a few hours, staring into nothing before he got up and took a beer

- he was long gone when you got up, but had left you a note that he was needed at the base

- he stayed at the base that day and did nothing but wait

- the next day he was woken up by a message from you, it was your usual good morning sms you sent him when he was not home

- his heart ached, he wanted to be with you, to forget what had happened

- he didn't care that you were having an affair, he just wanted you, he wanted to spend his life with you but it hurt too much to know that he wasn't the only one in your life

- he knew that you had your date today, so he tracked your smartphone and followed you

- he followed you, saw you disappear into a house with a man and then drove back to the base

- he saw his phone light up, he knew you had texted him

- but your message wasn't worth more than a quick glance as he spread the legs of the women who had always flirted with him on base

- who he had even transferred as far away from him as possible, because he had a wonderful partner and wouldn't have think about betraying you

-  yet here he were spending the whole day fucking her

- at the end of the day he lay naked next to the woman who had put her head on his chest just like you always did

- but he does not feel a sense of security, love and affection.

- he felt disgust for himself and for the woman.

- he pushed her away from him, got up and took a shower to get dressed and spend the night in a hotel

- he asked Shepard for an assignment the next day

- So he disappeared for another two weeks.

- you wrote to him every day, but he didn't answer, he only read your messages.

- two weeks later he came home again, or rather was on his way back to the base

- you had heard it from one of his shadows because his wife was a friend of yours

- so you had everything ready in his office

- when he came into his office he immediately noticed that someone had been in there

- there was a note on his desk, address, time and nothing else.

- he was confused why he got an order without further information, but then he went, after all, no stranger could get on the base and so it was probably someone from the military

- he didn't have much time, so he didn't undress much and still had his gear on when he went to the meeting point

- it did not take him long to get to the meeting point

- he stood in front of an old warehouse, gripping his gun as he carefully pushed open the old rusty door

- it was dark, he couldn't see anything and yet a bad feeling went through him

- he dared to take two steps inside.

- at that moment the light was switched on blinding him as he pulled his gun out of the holster ready to fire only to be completely thrown off by people shouting "happy birthday" out loud

- he looked around confused, in the middle of the crowd you were standing with a big smile and next to you was his dream car with the wrap he had been raving about for years

- with another glance he saw the man he had seen with you, who was now wearing a t-shirt with a logo on it

- you introduced the man graves thought was your affair as the man who had tuned and wrapped the car

- he was the husband of a friend of yours, which he now knew.

- with every word you spoke Phillips stomach turned

- you already wanted to throw the party on his birthday (two weeks ago), but Phillip had to leave and now here u were

- Phillip sat down while the guests, which consisted mainly of his family, your friends and a few of his colleagues, were celebrating happily

- you kept asking him if everything was alright, what was going on as he just sat there staring into the void

- the party was a success for everyone except for you, as your beloved husband just didn't seem to be happy about it

- on the way home it was silent between you, no one said a word

- when you got home, you stopped him as he was getting out of the car after he parked in the garage

- you told him that if he didn't like the gift you could get him something else, that you were sorry for catching him off guard like that

- that was the moment he couldn't hold back anymore and started crying

- he sobbed that he was so sorry

- you were confused, what was he sorry for?

- he sobbed that he had cheated on you, that he had seen the message on your cell phone two weeks ago

- that he had followed you and when you disappeared with the man, he had slept with the woman he had told you about many times

- the woman who had always flirted with him

- the woman that he promised wouldn't be any danger to ur marriage

- it broke your heart

- and his was already

- he knew he had made a mistake, he should have confronted you immediately

- but before he had you he had so many women who had cheated on him, who couldn't stand the fact that he was away for months at a time

- and now he had cheated

- he asked you to do what you thought was right, that he would not force you to do anything

- it was up to you if you would forgive him or not

- remember, no matter how painful a confrontation can be, it is always better to have it right away than to make a mistake afterwards that is not reparable.

- a mistake that does more harm than good.

- communication is key, always remember that

[ourbeloved1011]

Yibo is a straight man who has publicly stated countless times he’s a straight man, and he has denied cp countless times since 2019. So he’d never address a gay rumor lol. Not only would that be shameful but it would bring unnecessary and unwanted attention to him especially in a largely homophobic country like China and it’s government. As for xiao zhan he will continue leeching on Yibo because while the former’s career has stalled since 2020, Yibo continues to go higher and higher and make a name for himself in every industry that interests him (film, dance, racing, fashion, skateboarding, motorcycle, etc.). Maybe you dirty turtles will finally wake up when one of them gets married? Although it’s well known that xiao zhan is currently dating his jingjing manager. <3

I see what you're trying to do here, solo fan 🏍️Thanks for dropping by ☺️

I bet you know everything about xiao zhan, I guess? 🤔 Do you know him personally? Otherwise, you won't be spreading hate against him confidently here.

I don't have issue with solo fan. Solo fan have all my respect as long as you don't incite & encourage hatred in society.

Xz leeches on wyb? You got it wrong. They are mutually leeching on each other 🤣

No offense but your fav doesn't even know you exist. Why bother to be useless keyboard warrior? I hope you will be sued for your hateful comments one day 🫶🏻

"Yibo has publicly stated countless time he's a straight man" - he did mention this before. However, no one in their right mind will come out publicly & announce "well, actually- not really."

He's a public figure. I'll use back your word -especially in a largely homophobic country like China. Why need to self-destruct?

Personally, let me repeat this again, in my personal opinion, wyb doesn't like guy in general but xz is an exception.

I don't know if yibo is a straight guy or was a straight guy & I can neither confirm nor deny anything. Only yibo knows the truth behind his words.

Yibo: hey, I'm a straight man too.

Also yibo: 🤝🏻🫰🏻☺️😘😛😉👀 at xz. Shamelessly say I love you.

Yibo's double standard can be seen clearly when it comes to xz. What an extreme way to tease a friend. I see.

If you can't watch xz, it's ok. Just focus on yibo. Especially his eyes cos eyes never lie.

As for xz- he can date whoever he wants to. I don't own him. I don't have any right to decide on it.

Once again, I will never know for sure if yizhan is a real thing. I'm not their parent or family or close friend. There's no way- me, as a mere fan knows 100% what is real and what is not.

Some 🐢 say they will be seen together in public in 2026. To be honest, I don't even trust that 2026 prediction 😂

For me, let's say they aren't together now, at least, at some point, they did have a crush on each other esp yibo. He's wearing his heart on his sleeve 😂

Their happiness is everything. Whether they end up together or with someone else. It's their life.

That's how I see it and it's plenty enough for me. However, I've made a choice to believe that both of them are doing fine & their relationship is still going strong until today.

On what basis?

Actually, they don't have to prove to the world if they are in relationship. Somehow, they kindly leave some hidden traces to decipher from time to time. It's still ongoing.

Call it what you want. Throwing 🍬 or fanservice or leeching onto one another 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thought solo fans dont trust 🍬 ? Then please don't make fuss out of them. Let us, the dirty 🐢 enjoy & make a fool of ourselves.

Again, either one of them gets married to someone else or marry each other or never marry at all. It doesn't have anything to do with you. Your approval or your words mean nothing.

Don't act like you are the mighty one. Acting like you are on the 'right side'.

So please. Don't say to others to wake up.

You. Please. Wake up first.

We are just an unknown fan.

[whumpshaped]

so @oliversrarebooks' series captivated me to no end, and um. a certain. charming man mightve inspired. ..something

tw insecure ass carewhumper possibly turned whumpee??? guys i dont know, dehumanisation, human trafficking

Whumper was walking around in the auction house without much purpose or confidence. If it weren’t for the distinct red glow of their eyes or the shirt that covered up a decent part of their neck, one might’ve mistaken them for livestock, really. People paid little attention to them, and Whumper decided that was just what they wanted: a facade of social life without any of the obligations.

They barely checked on any of the thralls that were going up for sale. Most of them were mindless, anyway. Once they’d seen one, they’d seen them all.

That was, until their eyes landed upon the star of the show. And oh, a star he was.

They wanted to look away. They wanted to continue their aimless wandering, pretending they didn’t even exist, but they were rooted to the spot.

The human was dressed up in the most exquisite ball gown, but the garment didn’t even hold a candle to the wearer. He was far from mindless. His eyes were searching the crowd lazily, like he wasn’t a thing to be sold and bought, like he was the one on the prowl. Whumper almost wanted to go talk to him–

But another vampire beat them to it, stepping up to the human and making what must’ve been pleasant enough conversation, because he wouldn’t stop batting his eyelashes at her. Whumper wondered whether he’d do the exact same to them. Whether it was as practised as it looked. Whether they could earn some honesty, if they were to try their best.

The vampire woman took him by the chin, surveying him like one would a special doll for a special project; was it the right size? The right colour? The right fit for the dollhouse? Then she left like it was nothing, like she wasn’t about to think about him for the rest of the night. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe Whumper was the odd one out.

The human said something to his vampire handler, and she gave him an amused smile. Oh, there was something so charming about everything he did, and it made no sense, he wasn’t a vampire, he wasn’t the one doing the charming, he–

Oh. He was looking straight at them now, and they were still staring like an idiot.

The human’s cocky grin widened as he looked them up and down, then tilted his head in a questioning, daring sort of way. Will you be standing there all night? Or will you come up and talk to me?

It was stupid. Why were they the one being nervous? Yet still, despite all that, their legs moved on their own, like he was pulling them on a string. They wanted to talk. They wanted to have him, really.

“I might change my mind about wanting to serve vampires, after all,” he told the woman next to him as they got closer, loud enough for them to hear every word. If their heart had been beating, it might’ve skipped a beat.

“Serve is a strong word,” Whumper muttered, nodding to the woman in greeting and receiving an encouraging smile in return. From this close, they could smell the human’s marvellous blood, yet another tether they weren’t sure they would ever be able to sever.

“Oh?” He caught their gaze, and Whumper suddenly felt like they very much wanted to be looking at something else, anything else. “Do you have a better word in mind, sir?” His voice was silky smooth, giving them all but the illusion of sincere curiosity with a teasing undertone humans weren’t meant to use, not when talking to vampires.

“I… Well, I just meant… There’s no need for such clear-cut dynamics, really,” they stammered out, and the human’s eyes flashed with intrigue.

“Isn’t there?” He was quick to adjust his demeanour, leaving behind every last trace of the faux-sweetness he’d had with the previous vampire, replaced by even more of that playful arrogance that had captivated them in the first place. “I’m but a mere thrall, sir, surely you don’t really mean that.”

“Well, if we tally it all up, I’d be providing the shelter, clothing, all the amenities, and from my understanding, more food to you than you would to me,” they explained quickly.

“And in exchange, I stay obedient and follow your every order, yes?” He paused, waiting for them to say no. Probably wanting them to say no. “That does seem like a rather clear-cut–”

“It doesn’t have to be,” they interrupted suddenly, and the human looked like a cat that got the cream.

“Well,” he said slowly, giving them another once-over. “With all due respect, sir, that sounds like a straight path to spoiling a human rotten.”

You would spoil me rotten, wouldn’t you?

Whumper swallowed, nodding a little. “I suppose it does.”

I would go hungry if you told me you disliked the feeling of fangs in your neck.

He rewarded them with an approving smile, and Whumper let out a breath they didn’t need. “I’m sure your thrall will appreciate all this leniency greatly, sir.”

[bedforddanes75]

smh back related Filth here...

this isnt good enough for me to post on ao3 have it here instead. 18+ and stuff. ok anyway dont tell me if this sucks just leave and dont ever speak again

back fic? george doesnt wanna think and matty likes georges back. no im not projecting what do you mean. warning (technically) Unfinished and bad and idk man just read and again if u dislike (and i find out about it) then DIE im comign to get you. listne to pink floyd and chiiiillll the fuck out IM SO STRESSED i hate posting so much i cant stop speaking im trying to soften the blow (no blowjobs happen) but like i dont know Girl someone get me a gun I REALLY WANT A GUN oh my god OKok ko koko kok ok kok ok ok ok ok juts GO there its'heere

He gets George laid on his front, face pressed right into the pillows and chest fighting to expand under his weight. George keeps making these quiet, almost pathetic noises, whimper-esque, and delicate, and Matty can tell he’s fighting not to grind into the mattress.

“You can make yourself feel good, darling. Go on.”

George responds immediately with the shaky movement of his hips, and a relieved moan, goosebumps rising.

There’s nothing between them now, George already stretched out and far gone, his only thoughts being of Matty and Matty and Matty and Matty. Who is Matty to deny him that pleasure? He’s in awe at how someone can be so beautiful, staring at George’s back like it’s the sun, and it might as well be, because he’s radiating heat like a fire, so desperate to be touched and to feel good that the only outlet is there. George moves his hips slowly at first, and he’s so overwhelmed he thinks he might come just from that, the friction from the sheets more than enough for him.

But he wants Matty.

Matty runs a cold finger down the length of his spine, reverent and appreciative, and George shivers, the motion pulling another quiet noise from him. It’s silent, bar their breathing, and the rustling of sheets, but Matty’s heart is beating so fast that he doesn’t even notice. George isn’t trying to speak, not trying to beg for anything, because he knows if he tries, all that’ll come out is something garbled and stupid, but he doesn’t care, because Matty isn’t making him do any of that today, he just touches and pleases and makes him feel like he’s in heaven.

It isn’t long before Matty’s leaning down over him, letting himself press against George from behind, and whispering things down his neck.

“You want me to make you come? Want me to fuck you, darling?” And George might just cry. He does want it, but he just cannot form the words. Matty doesn’t make him, but when he doesn’t make any move to get off and start properly touching George, George knows that he won’t do anything until he does. He usually forces George to speak when they do it like this, makes him blush and whine and George lets him and loves it, but this time, he’s letting George do things in his own time, pressure all gone, (except in his groin.)

He’s got his hands on George’s waist, now leaning back just to admire him, and George can’t wait any longer. He tries to speak, just the word please, but it doesn’t come out right, and he’s just so desperate that he can’t think to correct himself.

“Just let me look at you a bit, you’re so gorgeous.” Matty doesn’t sound like he’s aware of the fact he exists anymore, so wrapped up in how beautiful George is that time and space no longer accept him as a being, he is simply a conscience left to its own devices, floating around and latching onto this angelic figure beneath where he should be. “Pretty,” he breathes, “So pretty,” again. He’s still drawing lines on George with his nails, like he’s tracing the muscles and all the marks made over the years.

George tries to keep his breathing steady, content with where he is but simultaneously needing more like he needs air, like it’s his only source of life, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t mind, really, he’s just happy to be touched, because every contact with Matty feels better than anything he’s ever taken, and he can’t imagine feeling any better than this. There’s static in his head, only just about covering the words he needs to make Matty do anything, and he wishes it wasn’t there, but he loves it so, so much.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Matty whispers eventually, after years and seconds and days and hours and George can’t reply. He wants it more than anything, but he’s so focussed on trying to figure out how to express that, that he can’t do it. A nod is all he can muster up, but he knows that Matty won’t let him just do that, he needs words, proper, full words. Then, there it is, “I need you to tell me, sweet. Words.”

He’s moved further down George’s body by now, and George didn’t even realise it was happening, but he’s pressing kisses to the dimples at the base of George’s spine, so he can’t complain. Not one bit.

Then, he moves drastically lower, kisses the very top of the line between his legs, just where the fat of his [ass] starts to rise, where his thighs turn from muscle to something soft, and he just leaves his face there for a while. He’s got his chin pressed into the middle of George’s thighs, and his hands still all over his back. That makes him speak.

“Please,” he manages, and Matty seems shocked at it.

“‘Please’ what? Need you to use words.”

George can’t, and he almost feels like crying, so desperate it’s making him shake, but he tries again.

All he can do is say, “You,” like a prayer, again, again, and Matty breathes something shaky in return. But he still doesn’t make any effort to move, just strokes the back of one of George’s arms. “Please, Matty.” It feels like they’re the only words he knows, now, really.

“Just need you to tell me what you want. I’ll do it, just tell me.”

Matty was always careful not to push boundaries and to be extra nice when George got like this, he wouldn’t push anyway, but he treats George like an ornament when he’s like this. George loves it. He likes being told he’s beautiful and being allowed to not think and just feel and feel and feel. It’s nice. It’s the best.

“You. Matty. Please.” Maybe they are the only words he knows, and he doesn’t care – they’re the only words that are important.

If Matty couldn’t understand it from that, he doesn’t know what he could’ve, but, that’s a useless thought, because he’s nodding against George, whispering “Okay.”

“Tell me if you want me to do anything else. Anything you want, sweet. Do anything. Squeeze my hand if you want me to stop.”

George nods.

He has to wait a while, Matty making sure he won't hurt George if he goes too fast, slicking himself up, but then Matty pushes into him gently, gripping George’s hand tightly to keep himself under control, and all of a sudden, it’s all worth it. He’s glad Matty doesn’t have a clear view of his face, then, because he’s bright red, sweating, and he just knows he looks an absolute state. But none of that matters at the moment, because Matty is inside him, and still, and he feels so good, so good, so, so, so, so, so good.

If he thought he couldn’t speak before, that was nothing. He can’t even see, completely taken by the feeling of Matty inside him and touching his back and touching his hair and touching him and touching. Matty is the embodiment of pleasure.

“Feels so good, darling,” Matty breathes, and he must’ve leant down, because George can feel his breath on the back of his neck. He blushes at the praise.

He can’t breathe properly with the pillows covering his face, but he doesn’t have the energy to move, and even the littlest of movements make him completely lose coherency, because Matty’s pressed right up against that spot, and he can’t take it.

Matty thrusts after a while, holding George’s hand and making sure he’s okay every few seconds, but when he does, George sees stars. He’s clearly holding back, because he keeps twitching inside George, and George only wishes he could speak more so he could tell Matty to do what he needs, to take as much as he wants, but, alas, he can’t, and he just settles on letting Matty do what he’s doing now.

The feel of Matty inside him is something he‘ll never get used to, it’s all consuming, feels like he’s turning into a star and becoming something otherworldly and living and dying all at the same time. He can’t word how amazing it is, like knowing he’s safe and letting Matty do whatever he needs, because he knows it’ll be good, and he trusts him.

He, eventually, does start to move properly, but only after multiple weak noises from George, desperate and pleading for anything. Matty grabs his hips, suddenly energised and no longer having the patience to be as gentle as he was, and George loves it. He’ll take whatever Matty gives with an open mouth and a chest left wide open, ribs all snapped to get inside, and this is like a knife made of solid pleasure, because there’s that tiny bit of pain, but it’s covered up by the heat that rushes all down his limbs, right down to his fingers, every single time Matty hits that spot inside him, and then everything is all okay.

Soon enough, Matty’s got his nails in the soft, weak skin of the space just below George’s v-line, digging into the flesh and wanting to claw him apart simply because it’s the only possible way to express how intense everything he’s feeling is. George lets the pain bloom and he whimpers into the bed.

“You okay?” Matty asks, and he nods, enthusiastic and truthful and just wanting more.

That’s all he needs, and he seems to lose some amount of his self control, because he starts fucking into George harder, one hand going back to his waist to keep steady, and the other going to his hair. He doesn’t pull just yet, but George wouldn’t complain if he did, taken by the pleasure. Matty’s nails are pressing slightly, and he welcomes the sting.

The sweet, soft, gentle Matty is almost fully gone now, and he’s changed back into something like what he usually is in just a few minutes, and it’s making George sick with want. He’s tightening his grip on George’s hair more and more by the minute, and by now, it’s starting to sting.

George doesn’t think anything’s going to change after that, just thinks Matty’s going to make him come like this, and he has no reason to think anything else. That is, until Matty yanks George’s head towards himself by the hair, and George can’t help the moan he lets out. It’s loud and undignified, but Matty likes it all the same, apparently, because he holds tighter, and keeps his head there for a second. George thinks he might come just from that, the feel of Matty in his hair, tugging.

Heat ripples from his scalp, and it’s not helped by Matty starting to speak. “Fucking back, so beautiful. Perfect. It’s so pretty, fuck.” He keeps speaking until he finally unthreads his fingers from George’s hair, but George can still feel the ghost of his palm. He fixes his grip properly onto his hips and waist instead.

He’s definitely digging his nails into that pale flesh, and it wouldn’t shock George if, when he moves, there’s skin left beneath them. He’s being gentler than normal, which George is grateful for, because he knows that if Matty did anything that was any more intense than pulling his hair, he’d be coming within a minute of him sinking inside.

He can feel heat building in his stomach, and, all of a sudden, he’s overly aware of the sheets rubbing against himself, hard against them, and he whimpers, eyes squeezing. Matty’s starting to stroke his hair, and ramble.

“You feel so fucking good, Jesus Christ. Fuck, George.” He’s digging his thumb into a space near one of the dimples on George’s back now, almost like he wants it to bruise so he’s got proof of it, like the proof isn’t George’s very existence.

George gets closer a lot sooner than he’d like to, but he just can’t help it, because Matty is telling him how good he feels and how well he’s doing over and over again, and there’s so much happening, like the feel of Matty hitting just where he needs every time and the feel of himself against fabric and the image of what he must look like in his head. It’s all too much. Almost.

He doesn’t realise he’s crying until Matty slows down, taps him, asks if he’s okay, and he just nods, nods like it’s keeping him alive, manages to turn his head enough to the side to say “Please, please, Matty, please,” and then his eyes roll back.

He’s so close, whining and whimpering nonsense and trying to form words to warn Matty, failing, but not caring, because he’s blinded by how good it feels, and Matty isn’t letting up, in fact, he’s fucking him harder, pulling George’s hips into his own with every thrust, determined to make him come.

It doesn’t take long before he’s right on the edge, just needing a tiny bit more, and then Matty fists a hand into his hair once more, and he’s gone. The combination of Matty fucking him so good, with the sharp pain on his scalp, is better than anything he could’ve imagined, and he cries out as he comes, over and over, moaning into the pillows and clenching his fists, begging with completely incoherent noises. Matty keeps moving for a bit, and George doesn’t have the mind to protest, nor does he want to, he’d rather lie in the afterglow and be only half aware of how overstimulated he’s becoming.

He doesn’t really notice when Matty comes, and he doesn’t notice virtually anything else for a while after, either, just lets himself be moved around as Matty tries his best to clean him, trying to manoeuvre him into some position easier to clean from, and not doing very well, because…well, the size of George.

sorry ending Shit possibly all shit but whatever i wrote most of it. enjoy life

[justplainwhump]

A Soft Reprieve

Written for Whumpmas in July, Day 15, @whumpmasinjuly-archive. Thank you so much to the great @angst-after-dark for their characters Dami and Thane and the very existence of Angel.

[Angel Masterpost]

Angel gets a break.

Content / warnings: BBU, mention of caning, multiple whumpees, a dash of conditioning. And a bit of comfort.

Angel was cold. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to be aware of that, if it actually was true. If she'd just forgotten what it meant to be warm.

There were reminders of it, though, like whispered promises of a concept too great for her to understand. Sir. Sir was warm. Sir's hands, roaming her body, Sir's lips on her skin, Sir's breath on her ear, when he reminded her what she was for.

She craved for these moments, for his breath, his kisses, his touch, his warmth.

They never lasted.

The cold hit ever more brutally after he was gone.

Angel pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around herself, where she lay alone on the carpet of the playroom. She'd been good enough to be allowed on the carpet, Sir had said. She knew she should be grateful for it. She knew it was wrong to glance up to the shape of the large bed next to her. She did it anyway, with a strange sense of longing.

She could almost feel its silky sheets, the soft mattress, the way her body would sink into it.

It wasn't for her. It never was. She didn't deserve it.

She deserved the carpet. She deserved the cold biting at her from every angle.

Shivering, Angel reached for the golden collar around her neck, ran cold fingers over it, over the only piece of clothing she was allowed

She didn't allow herself to let her stiff fingers follow the links of the chain to the bed's footboard. The bed was out of reach. As was all warmth. As was her Sir's love.

Behind her, the lock of the door clicked open. Quietly. She froze. Quietly meant, not Sir. It meant Damiel.

Angel curled up, as much as her freezing muscles let her, shielding herself from them.

"'M not here to hurt you," they mumbled.

Angel didn't believe them.

The traces of their cane, crisscrossing her back, started stinging all over again, as they stepped up next to her with soft steps.

"Please," she whispered.

She didn't even know what she was begging for. Please, take me to him. Please, don't let him hurt me. Please, leave me alone. Please, I'm cold.

They remained silent. Something light was spread over her shoulders. A blanket, she realized. Light, yet warm.

She sobbed. Warm. Instinctively, she reached for it, pulled it tightly around her.

"I'm not-," she whispered, her fingers digging deep into the fabric. "I'm not good. I... I don't deserve it. Sir doesn't -"

"Sir says you can have it," Damiel cut her off. "Don't fret." Their hand rested on her shoulder for a brief moment, tugging the blanket up, radiating warmth. "Warm up. Rest."

Angel's hand wandered up towards theirs.

Damiel pulled back, before she could touch them. "Rest," they repeated. And then, almost too quiet to hear, they added, "You'll need it."

---

-

Tag list: @whumplr-reader @there-will-always-be-blood @whimpers-and-whumpers @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @risk606

[acidic-eye]

Whumptober day 11: "its raining in my head and I dont know why"

Whumptober day 11 Prompt: “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” -

No one had said a word since the funeral. The funeral where they laid their friend…

Their brother… 

To rest. His body laid bloody and brutalized, a man who should have died years before, the one who managed to come back from everything, who could get struck by lightning and not die. 

The man whose body laid in a small dirt burial in the middle of an unfamiliar Hyrule. Who laid forever in the backyard of his father figure. Flowers were planted by each chain member, even Malon planted one. 

- or: Wild is dead, and the group mourns (title from Scars by the crane wives)

[meo-on-prairie]

Folklore and Evermore is SOOOO satosugu code. Argue with a wall.

"You had to kill me but it killed you just the same"

"You turned into your worst fear"

"You're the hero flying around, saving face"

"You can aim for my heart go flor blood // but you would still miss me in your bones"

"They expected me to find somewhere // some perspective, but I sat and stared"

"You left me no choice but to stay here forever"

"How evergreen, our group of friends // don't think we'll ever say that word again"

"Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other"

"Something wrapped all my past mistakes in barbed wire"

"So you leave no trace behind // like you don't even exist"

"You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town"

"I never learned to read your mind // I couldn't turn things around // 'cause you never gave a warning sign"

I can go on for days. YOU CAN'T TELL ME THESE DONT REMIND YOU OF THEM!!!

[maluinks]

I only know taylor swift as someone who sucks ass at writing lyrics, what are the banger lyrics im missing??

lmao i totally get that. I think it will always be a bit of a personal preference thing, just like some ppl love some writing styles which others cant stand, same with lyrics.

I personally love the lyric writing that tells a good story i can see in my head, and the song creates an atmosphere which you can touch and even smell. I think Taylor's strength is in her storytelling, which shines through especially in folklore and evermore. I personally love "seven" ("Please picture me/In the weeds/Before I learned civility/I used to scream ferociously"), august ("To live for the hope of it all/Cancel plans just in case you'd call"), peace ("Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?"), "illicit affairs" ("Leave the perfume on the shelf/That you picked out just for him/So you leave no trace behind/Like you don't even exist"), "champagne problems" ("Sometimes you just don't know the answer/'Til someone's on their knees and asks you"), "cowboy like me" ("Perched in the dark/Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear/Like it could be love/I could be the way forward/Only if they pay for it"), "'tis the damn season" ("We could call it even/You could call me babe for the weekend/'Tis the damn season, write this down/I'm stayin' at my parents' house/And the road not taken looks real good now"), "ivy" ("Oh, goddamn/My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand/Taking mine, but it's been promised to another/Oh, I can't/Stop you putting roots in my dreamland/My house of stone, your ivy grows/And now I'm covered in you").

Now every album she releases has its misses and its hits. I don't love "Lover" that much bc it's a bit too happy poppy for me, though the song "Lover" itself tells a very palpable feeling. Other songs I like are "All Too Well" ("And you call me up again just to break me like a promise/So casually cruel in the name of being honest"), "Dear John" ("Long were the nights when/My days once revolved around you/Counting my footsteps/Praying the floor won't fall through again"), "Back to December" ("It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you/Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine"), "The Story of Us" ("I'd tell you I miss you, but I don't know how/I never heard silence quite this loud"), "Clean" ("Ten months sober, I must admit/Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it"), "Begin Again" ("And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid/I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did"), "Don't Blame Me" ("Don't blame me, love made me crazy/If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right/Lord, save me, my drug is my baby/I'll be usin' for the rest of my life"), "Delicate" ("We can't make any promises/Now can we, babe?/But you can make me a drink").

Now many people have been dissing the latest album's cringey lyrics for a while, and while I hate them too (god the vigilante one is such a skip its unreal), i actually like some songs with cringey lyrics. "Anti-hero" really grew on me bc it's Taylor self-analising and talking about how she is her own worst critic, which is something we all experience, and I think she made it in a fun self-deprecating way in the song that still delivers the message. other songs in the album which i love and dont have those kinds of cringe lines are "you're on your own, kid" ("'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned/Everything you lose is a step you take"), "Lavander Haze" ("The only kind of girl they see (only kind of girl they see)/Is a one-night or a wife"), "High Infidelity" ("Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?/Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?"), "Would've, Could've, Should've" ("If I was some paint, did it splatter/On a promising grown man?/And if I was a child, did it matter/If you got to wash your hands?") (tbh I love all the lyrics in this song it's my fave atm).

Sorry for the long post! I really feel like Taylor's best lyrics are hidden away in her albums many times, but I do get how she gets called a good lyricist, because she is good at telling stories in them. I believe many people look at her stuff from a biased perspective most of the time bc of the way the media has portrayed her in part, and also bc she got a lot of hate from misogynists when she was young and it stayed around as mindless hate/disregard. She isnt the greatest ever but she's earned her reputation as a lyricist imo.

[uglypastels]

Just wanted to say that i was listening to illicit affairs by taylor swift and it made me think of reader and escort!eddie and now im crying

A few lyrics i picked up on when listening with this pov in mind:

Take the words for what they are 🥲 a dwindling mercurial high 🥲🥲🥲

So you leave no trace behind, like you dont even exist 🤧

You showed me colors you know i cant see with anyone else 😭😭😭😭

You taught me a secret language I cant speak with anyone else 😭😭😭😭😭

Yall are making me see the fucking heartbreak oof

> NEW FIC: Caught Me Slippin' (escort!eddie)

[redeliminator]

#andre who has had to exist in the shadow of his older brother #finally hearing his dad say hes proud of him #after he’s already signed his death warrant #after he’s already burned every physical trace of who he was outside of zero day (...) #he knows he’s letting them down. he doesnt want them to blame themselves. #because it is his decision. it is his action #he has to do it. andre is nothing outside of cal #outside of the army of two. outside of zero day #he burned everything. they dont have anything of his besides what he did and the child he was.

hey uh @factkinnefor i had to lie down on a concrete floor because I forgot that it's implied andre had a brother thank you very much

the fact that we never see his brother or even hear about him speaks volumes. he's probably away at college, so it makes sense he's not there, but not even a phone call on andre's birthday? nothing? we will never know the nature of their relationship, so I know it's a big stretch, but I like to imagine that contrary to the stereotypical brotherly dynamic, it wasn't strained at all. they didn't argue. it was worse than that. they didn't fight because the bond was non-existent. you don't argue with someone you don't give a shit about, you don't waste your energy on them. and yet, his brother continued to pierce through every single aspect of andre's life. no matter what andre did, his brother followed him like a ghost everywhere he went. even his absence left a mark.

note that andre never mentions his brother in the farewell tape. he wants to erase his existence to make it easier on his parents, but not his brother.

memories is all he's leaving behind. not because he wants it, but because it's the one thing he can't destroy. the one thing that's out of his reach. his 18-year-old self went up in flames, but he can't take away the child they nurtured and raised, the kid that would fall off a bike 5 times in a day and get up by himself every single time.

and his brother? there's nothing to take away from him. because there was nothing there in the first place.

there is something so heartbreaking about andre's gaze in the car scene with his dad, the one on the prom night. it's so.... full of everything and completely empty at the same time, if you know what I mean. he never looks at his dad. his eyes are all over the place. i knows he's driving so it's partially justified, but it persists even when he seems to be just waiting at the traffic lights. out of all the days, his dad chose the evening not even 2 days before the massacre to tell his son that he was proud of him, something he apparently had never done before. but the message never got through. it hit an invisible wall between them and it wasn't strong enough to tear it down. it was simply too late.

I can't help but think that to some extent, Andre feels sorry in that scene. not enough to back out, not enough for it to give him any hope, but he knows that this man right next to him will be thrown straight into the deepest pits of hell in just two days. and that man is proud of him.

but most of all, he feels sorry for himself.

maybe it's one of the moments when it gets to him how everything could have been so different, so casual. an ordinary life. but it's not. it could never be him. and he knows this.

but here he is, listening to his dad offering this grand gesture to help him pay off his car. little did he know his son didn't give a fuck about paying off a car. it's all so trivial compared to what was in store for both the father and the son.

[eternlle]

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁     :     @trailost​‘s  emily !!

❛  oh, don’t worry, they’re just   ---  spiders. ❜           nose wrinkled in distaste, evelyn smacks at one of the giant crawling things with her rolled - up magazine.   they’re all over the carriage   ;   apparently, this section of barcelona has a problem, and now they’re basically being attacked.   just a few travelling difficulties.          ❛  find something to smack them with, they’re probably not poisonous    ---    just don’t let them bite you!  ❜

[ghostypetrainer]

oh god it must be trippy as shit for kuroaku/ingo

cause hes both people, the implanted memories dont fade, the old ones just come back. he still responds to kuroaku. thats part of him. thats still him. and he still misses the leader, and all his friends there, and akari. he knows it was wrong, but sometimes he still wants to go back.

I do wonder about this!! There's a lot of different ideas rattling around my head as to what a post-team chaos Ingo could look like!!

The ideal reality is one where he slowly starts to recover his previous self- it's a long and drawn out process, one that they probably could make faster by use of a psychic Pokemon of their own, but at this point... that's risky. They don't want to chance damaging Ingo's psyche anymore, even if the slow drawn out process of him returning to himself is painful to watch. But eventually, he returns to a point where he's mostly his old self, even if there are new parts mixed in that didn't fade entirely. He's not cruel like Kuroaku was, but takes to expressing his negative thoughts more freely than before, though he generally tries to coach his words into something less biting. He recognizes his friends and family again, starts responding to his name again... but he and Dawn always still call each other Akari and Kuro.

He's also deeply haunted by guilt for the rest of his life, but his friends and family's forgiveness go a long way to helping him move on in spite of it. He can't really wear black anymore, so he switches to wearing a lot of purples instead. It takes him awhile to face the Pokemon he gained during his time as Kuroaku head on, but he can't abandon them, and they slowly get to know their trainer's true self even though he's aware they are probably some of the few who miss him as they once knew him.

There's probably also a reality where Kuroaku and Akari flee after Team Chaos is defeated. Their own plans to rewrite reality to make themselves real failed too, so they instead choose to disappear. They're afraid of disappearing into their old selves, and they know it will happen if they stay. So they hide, living as uncle and niece in a remote town somewhere (maybe the scarlet/violet region?).

They find their own version of recovery there. There memories are still a fragmented mess of truth and lies, but they find a balance between them. They have each other- a tiny little family where they both have the unique experience of being themselves, even though themselves did not previously exist. They feel guilt for leaving their old loved ones behind as their old memories slowly start to mix in with the fake, and sometimes they send letters- taking care that they're not traced back to them. They don't know if they ever read them or not. It doesn't really matter.

Their old personalities emerge more, but they're left with good chunks of their new ones too. Kuro is still a cold man on the surface with a sharp tongue, but his kindness shows through his actions. There's no Pokecenter in town, so the kids living there take their injured Pokemon to Kuro, who always knows how to treat them. His advice is biting, and sometimes phrased in mean ways- but he's right, and it's always helpful. His niece Akari is friendly enough compared to her uncle, but she's still merciless in battle, and still uses underhanded tactics and loves to trash talk. But she'll still heal up your Pokemon afterwards- and if you do manage to beat her, she just laughs it off. Damn. You got her good!

They gradually realize that their actions while in Team Chaos were wrong, and that maybe this reality is... okay, actually. As long as they have each other, and their Pokemon, that's all that matters.

[dorimena]

Dont know if you like this sort of things but , Do you ever think about shoto being pampered by you and becoming so soft around you ? Like, litteraly. Softer thighs, a lil roll on his tummy , hips softer to grab when pegging him.. etc just, all the care and the freedom to indulge showing in his facial expression, the way he moans loudly and the way his body looks.

I’m just in love with the idea of him a lil soft because he’s well taken care of and blushing embarrassed and turned on when you undress him and praise him for being so good and looking so good , you know ?

(I would absolutely die to read your writing of softer submissive Shoto)

I do like this sort of thing (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) I haven’t actually put much thought into it, but soft Todoroki unlocks a whole new sex experience, just so full of passion and love he’s never felt before, and he just feels so warm and melts everytime you praise him-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Todoroki Shoto

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 896

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; implied fem!reader, mommy kink, mentioned multiple orgasms, praise, stripping, drooling, dom!reader, sub! character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; soft Shoto, he’s being well-fed, mentioned Todoroki family members, aged-up character, Todoroki is 20+

𝕾𝖔𝖋𝖙 𝕻𝖊𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖙

Todoroki has put on some weight.

Okay, no, he’s simply gotten softer in areas he never thought he’d see be soft, not since he was a child.

He’s been on medical leave for some time now, ever since a battle against a villain kind of went downhill, but you’re glad he’s safe, especially him given his days of recovery under your shared roof rather than piling up unnecessary bills.

Well, okay, that’s not the reason why you’re glad he’s here sitting on the couch, eating some oatmeal he, for some reason, craved.

You’re glad because you can finally, finally, take care of him properly and shower him in love and affection you never found the opportunity or chance to do.

Sure, you’ve always cuddled him when he needed it, snuggled up to him to help lull him to sleep after rough nights, peppered him in kisses any given moment, simply spoiled him with lots of attention.

But never did you find the opportunity to actually cater to his needs:

He wants water? Here you go.

He wants milk tea? Here you go.

He wants cookies? Here you go.

He wants cold soba, just the way he specifically likes it? Here you go.

The word ‘no’ doesn’t exist, excluding sex and dangerous situations.

So with you catering to his needs and wants, necessities and desires, while being under the order to relax and allow his body to heal itself, you bet he’s gained a softer image.

He’s banned from going to the gym, and if he goes to the agency, his secretary or a sidekick keeps an eye out to make sure he doesn’t react to last-minute missions or emergencies.

You’re thankful so many other people care for him and about him, and how often his family seem to visit. Well, Fuyumi and Natsuo, on the rare occasion he is able to tag along, step through the door, but even with Shoto making amends with his father still, the older male mostly just drops off whatever he came to leave and heads back to work. Rei also visits from time to time, to the utter delight of both you and Shoto.

And in one of her latest visits, she dropped off some cute pastries she found on display. Shoto’s been mostly indulging in them, to your heart’s delight.

But then a few days later, and you catch Shoto staring at his body from the mirror, turning and checking all the small yet noticeable changes on his body. Your heart aches at his disappointment and pout, at the way his eyes already hold such a critical gaze that you realize what you haven’t been doing for such a long while.

When was the last time you’ve fucked him?

He was forbidden from going to the gym and training, but you’re sure sex isn’t out of the question. You’d just have to be more gentle, maybe not so fast.

You don’t really sneak up on him, he can hear and recognize your footsteps. But he startles when you wrap your arms around him from behind, placing your hands on his soft tummy and caressing the skin, tracing your name and your confessions of how much you love him. He can’t make it out, but the way you touch him has him letting out a shaky sigh, one that sounds so sad that you plant a kiss on his back.

Your hands go to his hips, squeezing them before you pull down his sweatpants, along with his boxers. Your eyes and his are on the mirror, watching how more and more of his skin begins to show and you feel how he’s trying to hide himself, try to cover up what he’s beginning to resent.

Not on your watch.

“Baby, get on the bed.”

And Shoto’s speaking gibberish after a while, his body rocking forward and back as you pound into him. He would’ve preferred you go faster, but he knows that it’s because you don’t want to hurt him.

He’d usually feel hurt, but right now? He feels like he’s glowing, whether because of your amount of praises over his new body and how much cuter he is, or because of the orgasm he was brought to a few seconds ago.

You angle your hips a certain way, rolling them as you try to reach him deeper and deeper, feeling him tremble under your hands as his hips twitch with every thrust, his plush thighs straining as they try not making him fall forward.

You’re not being as hard as you tended to be before his accident, yet he feels just as weak, even if his third orgasm is not even building as strong yet.

His drool is beginning to soak the bed, his eyes blinking back small tears as soft, high-pitched moans of what you think is “mommy” start growing louder. One of his hands near his head, gripping the sheets, slowly reaches towards his dick, whining in satisfaction as he times his strokes to your thrusts.

“You’re so good, baby.”

“Always my good boy.”

“You’re beautiful, yeah?”

“Love your softness, baby.”

“Mommy’s pretty boy, forever and always.”

And if Shoto cumming at that last sentence isn’t romantic enough for you, then him placing a hand on yours while thanking you through his happy tears should show you how much of a romantic your baby boy could be.

[jangofctts]

Anything at All (boba fett x fem!reader) (part one) (part two) 

Rated: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, even mORE thrONE fucking, oral sex (f receiving), boba’s a biter, unprotected sex (dont be silly, wrap thAT wiLLY), vaginal fingering, explicit language, boba is a grouchy dom kwjhgjh       

a/n: anyway I think yall forget im a writer and not just a Certified Clown, but anywAy here we be. HAPPY NEW YEARS ya FILTHY anIMALS im so thankful for all yall and im glad I can provide you with some entertainment kaejhejhr

  You haven’t seen Boba Fett in days. 

Called away on business you’ll never be included in or know the fine details about. It’s not kept away from you because he doesn’t trust you, or thinks you’re a mindless idiot—no—he’d rather keep his princess occupied with prettier things. No need to concern yourself with the the underbelly of what he now rules. 

You’re not upset about it—you’re not really a fan of watching petty squabbles that’ll result in someone’s chest being imploded by a blaster. You’ve seen enough of it in the cantina, and while you were never the one tasked with clearing the bodies out—it was still mildly traumatizing. Eh—no need to dwell. 

You’ve got other shit to do anyway. 

There’s a seemingly endless zigzag of secret hallways and dusty rooms within the palace, teeming with strange knickknacks and ancient artifacts that are more than likely cursed. Definitely haunted—but it doesn’t stop you from exploring or sorting through the useless junk. Besides—Fennec stayed behind, acting as your glorified babysitter for the past few cycles—ensuring your safety from both whoever dared step foot into the palace and the ghosts. What a lovely woman. 

Speaking of which—you hear her sigh and shuffle, shifting her weight onto her other foot as she leans back against a dusty crate. She picks at the dirt beneath her fingernails, lazily glancing up every now and then to check that you haven’t eviscerated yourself on a piece of scrap metal or something. Lucky for her, all you found today was an abandoned crate of old datapacs shoved in the back corner from what you assumed to be some sort of office. Yesterday you found a sword that was promptly confiscated.  

“I’d be careful snooping around in those,” Fennec warns as your fingers find the on switch. “You never know what sorta data the Hutts were keeping here.”

You shrug and wave away her concern, reading over the information that flickers across the screen. “I think I’ll be ok…See?” You pointedly wave the datapac in her direction. “This one is about the finances. Spooky.”    

Fennec rolls her eyes followed by an amused smirk that ghosts over her lips. You toss it aside and root around some more, pulling out another datapac. The blue hologram flickers to life and as you decipher the little lines of text your face falls. Each line is a name, previous and recently bought or traded people that crossed the threshold of the palace. Fennec was right. This isn’t fun anymore.    

“These are…slaves.” Your lips curls in disgust. “How is this still not outlawed? It’s barbaric.”      

“You’re not from Tatooine, are you?” Fennec asks as she meanders over and wrestles the datapac out of your hands. She switches it off and tosses it back into the dusty crate. You huff and cross your arms over your chest.  

“No,” you agree. “Im from Arkanis. But even there we don’t have slaves.” 

Fennec squats beside you, her elbows resting over her bent knees. She playfully taps your shoulder with the back of her hand and quirks a brow. “What’d I tell you—snooping doesn’t do anyone any good.”

You roll your eyes and shrug, a frown still etched on your lips. Fennec sighs, rubs her chin and then reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. A flush blooms up your cheeks at the gentle touch. 

“You have a sensitive soul, Kitten,” she chuckles, poking at your cheek that you’re certain she can feel the heat emirate from. “You said you were from Arkanis—tell me about it. Why come to Tatooine?”

Your lips quirk in a tiny smile as you bat away her pointer finger, saving your cheek from another poke. “Hey—not everyone likes rain ok?” You huff. “Besides, Tatooine wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

She nods. Unsure what exactly to tell her--a silence ensues. It’s not terribly awkward but it’s enough that makes you jumpy and itching to move on from this room now stained with information you weren’t prepared on finding. You stand suddenly, brush yourself off and mutter under your breath about finding something less…heartbreaking. 

Fennec jumps up as well and when you leave the room her hand clamps over your shoulder. She spins you around and levels her gaze onto you. “You’re free to leave whenever you like. You know that right?”

Your brows furrow. “I know—don’t worry, I want to stay.”

Her head bobs with a satisfied nod. “We’d miss you if you left. You’re nice to have around.”

You blush again and mumble out a thank you, shooting off into another unexplored location to escape Fennec’s knowing smirk. Maker—you’re embarrassing.  

                               -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Boba returns later that afternoon—the shadow of his familiar figure stretches around the curved stairway, the purposeful stomps of his boots against the carved steps following with it. Your heart flutters within your chest, like a distressed creature with wings as you jump from your makeshift seat.

You come face to face with Boba. Or, helmet rather—whatever. 

The smell of hot metal and dry air sticks to him as he paces closer, closing the small gap that separates him from you. You’re frozen beneath the heavy weight of his stare behind the void like black of his visor as he plants himself firmly before you, close enough that his cuirass could brush your chest if he puffed out his own chest.   

“Hi…” You smile, a fragile vale of uncertainty blanketing the pair of you—still attempting to feel out his mood, sort through the general gruffness of his personality and gage wether or not you could reach out and touch him. The helmet is a tricky thing to read and his body language gives nothing away. You swallow your nerves take a leaping risk.   

“Let me see your face.” You murmur. You move your hands up to the edges of his helmet at a snail’s pace, giving him ample time to slip through your fingers—wedge a sharp thorn between whatever it is that you’ve built and name it for what it is.

He doesn’t choose that option. 

With a low hum, Boba dips his helmet closer to your outstretched fingertips instead. The metal is cool under your palms as they fold over the sides of the helmet and pull up. The metal whispers against his skin like wind through tall grass as the point of his chin peeks out, followed by his lips, his nose, and finally those golden brown eyes. They glitter with amusement as you release a shaky breath, the helmet the only thing acting as a barrier as you clutch it near your sternum. His mouth quirks when you blush and glance away—focusing on the little silvery nicks the green paint refused to cover. You rub your thumb over the blaster pockmark that dents the metal—you frown. You hope that wasn’t recent. 

Boba gently pries the helmet out of your hands and sets it onto the armrest of his throne. He purrs your name and pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, leading your attention back to him. Your eyes flit up his scars—your breath catching in your throat as he smiles.

“Hello, princess,” he says—the grit and timbre of this new nickname jumpstarting your heart to skip and choke on its own tireless beat.

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. “Boba, I’m not—“

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence—

Boba spreads his fingers over your jaw, tilts your head and swoops down to meet your lips in a dizzying kiss. Hard, hungry, victorious, breathless—like he’s spent years fighting and only now takes a moment to slow down—drown in the softness of your lips and skin. His hands claw at your arms, your clothes, your hair—like you’re the spoils of battle and he fears losing you to the shadows of his past and some hidden horror that nips at his heels. He kisses like a man terrified that this will be brief, intangible and something that’ll abandon him.

He trails after your lips when you break away—your lungs heaving for precious air. He doesn’t let you go far, ensuring your positioning by tangling his fist into your hair at the nape of your neck and scraping his lips up your cheek, enticing you into another kiss. You tilt you chin to meet him with equal fervor, whining as his warm tongue curls sweetly into your mouth. His existence fills your veins with liquid silver—evokes the bloom of crackling star fire beneath the cavity of your ribcage. Every thought starts with him and ends with your heart aching to burst into a million tiny shards.   

The next time you part,  Boba is the first one to pull away. He cups your cheeks between his weathered hands and plants a tender kiss just below your hairline. You swear you can feel the skin buzz from the touch—like every atom in your being was solely created for him to command and conquer. You sigh and lean into his palm. 

“I missed you.” You admit with a small smile. 

Boba leans closer and presses another kiss to your forehead. “And I you, little one.”

“I got worried, y’know,” you continue, your fingers tapping a trail up the front of his chest plate. You trace the repainted insignia with your fingernail and flash him a coy smirk. “You never called—thought maybe you found a new pretty thing.”

He grunts, shakes his head and sweeps a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. “Hilarious—my hands are full enough with you hounding me every five minutes.”

You puff out your bottom lip and feign offense, mumbling some lame whine like a petulant brat. Boba snorts and crowds closer. He presses his gloved thumb between your furrowed brows, smoothing out the wrinkles and then cups your cheeks between both palms. You freeze as he carefully knocks the crown of his forehead onto yours—it’s sweet.

An excited smile splits when he moves his head to your right, the syllables of each word rolling off his tongue sweeter than spiced honey. “I’ll make it up to you, pretty thing,” he whispers by your ear, his warm breath disturbing the fine hairs there. “How does that sound, hm?”

That’s not even a question you would ever dream of denying—you quickly nod. “I’d like that.” 

Boba drops his hands from your face and peels himself away. His eyes trickle down your figure—calculative and analytic—planning out each move to pick apart the entirety of your being. “Take everything off.”

You comply without a second thought—slipping free from the breezy cotton and scratchy poncho you stole from a storage room. The fabric pools at your feet in an unceremonious pile—leaving you bare for him. Despite the sickening dry heat that pollutes the air and causes beads of sweat to gather at your hairline—goosebumps rush up your arms under Boba’s piercing stare. 

Boba’s eyes flicker to the throne. A feral grin tugs at his lips. “Sit.”

This time you hesitate. Did he…? No—you must’ve heard wrong— 

He quirks a brow and gestures to the throne. “Well? Are you going to listen?”

Your tongue slides over your chapped lips. “O-ok..I just—never mind…”

Scrounging up some courage, you gingerly seat yourself onto Boba Fett’s throne. Chills race along the entirety of your body as the freezing metal seeps into your warm flesh. You squirm and beat away the urge to wrap your arms around yourself—he wouldn’t like that—probably would take it as some sort of insult anyway—

All your current discomforts melt away in a fraction of a breath as Boba Fett lowers himself to one knee, and then the other. A king kneeling before his very own throne for someone like you. Someone who’ll be lost to the pages of history and the endless swirl of galaxies and supernovas—you’re nobody to the world, but to him you’re everything. You inhale a shaky breath as a strange stroke of pride alights through your body as he peels off his gloves and maneuvers himself flush against the edge of the throne and between your thighs.    

Boba bows forward and slips his calloused hands around your ribcage to tug you closer. His lips land over your collar bone, slides his tongue over the protrusion then sinks his teeth into you there. You gasp as he slides lower, leading a trail of bruises and teeth marks in his wake. Boba moves his palms, up and in to grab at your breasts, the flats of his fingertips rolling over your nipples. A whimper escapes past your lips as he catches the pebbled bud between his lips, the hard enamel of his teeth scraping over it—meant to tease. Your nails dig into the fabric bunched around his neck as he moves on to suck your other nipple, the cooling saliva sending a chill down your spine as it dries.

You squirm, unable close your legs or to relieve some of that burning tension collecting in your core. You’re already wet—worked up and impatient. You roll your head back onto your shoulders and bite your lip. If you complain and tell him to hurry up you’re scared he’ll leave you like this—deny you that pleasure you’ve been craving for days.  

It feels like ages before he moves on from your breasts, now smattered with bruises and his saliva, and carves out a blinding path down your sternum, your belly, then your navel with his tongue. Boba circles your bellybutton—you force down the ticklish nerves and stay still for him. 

You don't mean to jump as his rough hands drop over your knees. You barely get out the first syllable of an apology when his hands slip up your bare thighs, curl around the swell of your ass and yank. You squeak as the edge of the throne bites into your tailbone, the majority of your lower half forced to lean on Boba’s shoulders and his greedy hands. He kisses the inside of your knee—you jolt with an airy gasp. 

Boba picks up his head and smirks. “Look at me when I taste you, little one.”

Mouth suddenly drier than dust, you nod dumbly. 

He hums, satisfied with your weak response and continues on.  

Boba’s bare fingers trace minuscule patterns into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, coaxing out a shiver. They sweep up towards the apex of your thighs, settling close enough to reach your aching center. You know he’s there—it’s impossible to ignore him—but you curse anyway when you feel his thumbs softly part the lips of your soaking cunt. They steadily work up and down, smearing your wetness around but never enough to give you any friction. You bite back a groan as your hips unconsciously twitch. 

“Patience, princess,” he rumbles, shifting his weight to better reach your cunt. “Maker—you’re dripping already.”   

There's a moment just before Boba commits, his face hovering close enough that you can feel his sticky, hot breath, anticipation gripping your chest. And then he licks a broad stripe from the base of your pussy all the way up to your swollen clit. 

His mouth Is searing, his tongue like liquid velvet as you shudder and grab at his head. He grunts against you as you drag him closer—greedy for everything he deems you worthy of. Boba’s mouth pinpoints around your clit, sucking and tracing circles over the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue. Your eyes flutter—it’s a struggle not to shut them completely. He asked you to watch after all… 

He then trails lower, sucks on your labia, and makes his way down to your entrance. The wet heat of his tongue circles your entrance, skips over it completely to lick at the wetness dripping lower that threatens to pool onto the throne or the floor. He opens his mouth wide and hums in appreciation, devouring your pussy like he’s been denied this his entire life. 

“Fuck—Boba,” you cry, canting your hips into his mouth. 

It's perfect. So fucking good. 

The tips of his thick fingers, two of them, press at your entrance, teasing the fluttering ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The two digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle and when he draws them back, they're slick with your wetness, glinting in the low light. With a smirk, Boba thrusts them back in, then out—setting a steady pace that he refuses to stray from. It leaves you just hovering along the sharp edge of oblivion, the catch of his knuckles and calloused skin along your walls pure torture. Stars—he’s going to be the death of you—

Your hips arch into him, trying to urge him to go faster. Instead, he slowly retracts his fingers and removes his mouth. You gasp in frustration as your cunt clenches around thin air. It almost hurts. 

“I told you to be patient,” Boba chuckles, massaging a warm palm along the outside of your thigh. “You’re behaving like a brat.” 

“I’m—I—I’m sorry—“ You wheeze, trying to rope in some self control that fled a long time ago. Your wits are scrapped thin as you throw your hand against the back of the throne. You don’t care that he’s rendered you to a begging mess, your words slurred and hardly understandable. You're so close to diving off the edge—so near to those plush lips and weathered hands that’ll surely become your salvation. "Please! P-please—I need..." 

You're babbling as he drags his fingertips over your thigh, skims over your cunt, and traces a pattern into your opposite thigh. "Boba. Fuck. I pro-promise to be better—I can do it. Please—“

He complies.

Two fingers are thrust up into your dripping cunt, curving so deliciously into something that feels like unrefined plasma bolts. His mouth dips down and sucks on your clit and with a few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls, your body seizes up tight. 

You're flying off you’re high, faster than a fucking speeder with tampered gears. You cum onto his tongue with a strangled cry of his name, sparks of blurry white lining the edges of your vision as your back arches. Boba keeps licking you through your orgasm, even as you buck and squirm in his iron hold. Stars implode behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire and jetfuel spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're shaking, lucid enough to hear Boba, and feel the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 

Your brain swims in hazy bliss and fuzzy pleasure as you float back to reality. He's still curling his fingers into your pussy and it hurts. You're too sensitive. Your nerves are rubbed raw and you're still throbbing—but you're too fucked out and still riding the waves of your orgasm to push him away. He takes this opportunity to tilt his fingers into your cunt faster, suckle and lave his tongue over your clit that burns from overstimulation—somehow you're back at the very edge again.

It's sharper than a blade against flesh. Your thighs quiver around him as he twists his fingers inside you and bumps agains that tiny, little patch of nerves that wrenches a cry from you. Your orgasm floods through you veins, bursting and rupturing every cell in your being. This one is blistering—charrs all the way to the fucking bone. Your core pulses around Boba’s fingers, fucking you through it until those burning waves of release eventually cease into a dull throb. You whimper and push at his forehead because he's still licking at your cunt. You panic a bit—fucking hell, he’s gonna make you cry—but he pulls away, his mouth and chin wet with your slick. 

Boba leaves absolutely no time to completely float down from your high—you squeak as his hands shoot up to grab at your hips, wrenching you off the throne and all but throwing you onto the same floor he kneels on. You flash him a dopey grin, letting your legs fall open for his enjoyment—

“Such a filthy princess,” he chuckles, extending a hand to cover your knee, bending it further out to expose more of your flushed cunt. “You taste sweeter than star cherries.”

You preen at his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

It earns you an amused huff. Boba scrapes the hand resting on your knee to the apex of your legs, thumb and forefinger gently parting your delicate, slick folds. You bite back a keening whine, utterly exposed to him as he slips the hood back from the throbbing knot of nerves at the top of your slit. Too raw. Your pussy clenches involuntarily, causing everything from your toes to your hips stiffen. Boba hums in delight at his handiwork. 

“Stars, Boba—please…” You beg, voice breathy and soft like whips of spider silk. Boba makes a sound that oozes with smug pleasure, teasing your sore clit with unadulterated glee. “Please,” you hear yourself whimper over your pounding pulse, shifting in his grasp and praying he’ll put an end to this sickly sweet torture.

“Pretty little thing, begging for my cock…” He rasps, darkly threaded sin and the husky scrape of the gray sea licking up jagged, black rock. You’re certain he could talk you into unraveling at the seams, untouched and putty in his hands for him to mold and shape. Boba’s other hand sweeps up your sternum, his fingertips dancing along the mythosaur pendant coiled around your neck. He then curls his thick fingers around the base of your throat and ever so lightly squeezes. “Poor baby—all worked up after a few days…I’ll fix that for you.” 

Before you can fully process, he grabs the swell of your hip and flips you onto your belly. The air from your lungs is knocked out of your chest, the abrasive sandstone bitting into the points of your elbows and patches of your skin and no doubt leaving behind irritated scrapes. You hear the shuffle of fabric and then Boba suddenly seizes your hips and arches them into his crotch, grinding the deliciously hard length of his cock through your wet folds. Throbbing and just as desperate as you are, Boba refrains from flinging you into another bout of teasing. He slicks himself up with your arousal and drags the tip of himself to your clenching center and sinks that first, glorious inch inside of you. 

With a low groan, Boba pushes in deeper, watching your tight hold flutter and accommodate his thick length. It’s the same as before during that night in the cantina—dreadfully full and all but bursting at the seems. The gentle rocks of his hips and gravelly praise eventually allow him to finally bottom out, his sharp hipbones resting against the swell of your ass as you shudder and groan. Fuck—

You can feel him in your fucking guts. 

Boba grants you a brief moment to settle and then—it’s catastrophic. 

Your jaw drops in a silent scream when he pulls back, all the way to the tip and slams back into your tight heat. Boba’s hand tangles into your hair at the nape of your neck and and pulls, forcing your back into a sharp arch. The action leaves more of you open, somehow pressing in even further. He hits so deeply within you—stars it feels like he’s splitting you open and laying you bare. 

His dark chuckle resonates above you—a bit breathy as he tames his own frazzled nerves. “Shit—that feels good. Doesn’t it, princess?”

Your incoherent babble makes him laugh as he gives your hair a playful tug, all the while he never stops thrusting in and out of you. You wiggle your hips, the slight shift makes it ache, and the sharp downward thrusts put delirious pressure on that patch of nerves that renders you dizzy. Every muscle in your body feels like it’s a tightly spooled cable, fraying and an inch away from snapping. Your gasping breaths pitch into airy squeaks as the fist twisted in your hair tightens, tugging your head back just a bit more.

Boba lurches foreword, the nip of beskar a frigid shock to the bare skin of your back when he lays over you, his elbows caging you in close. His head drops onto your shoulder blade, pressing sloppy kisses over the arch of your throat and slope of your shoulder—without warning he sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck. Maker save you—

The feral drag of Boba’s teeth digging into your sensitive flesh skin makes you squeeze around his cock—Boba answers with a soft growl that vibrates against the skin of your shoulder. Somehow he fucks into you harder, his pace becoming brutal. Your nails scrabble against the floor, searching for some sort of anchor as you wail under him.

It’s too much—fuck, you’re gonna implode. Pinned between the rough sandstone and the hand in in your hair, mixed with the sharp pain of his teeth marring your skin—you loose it. Sensing your peaking orgasm, Boba’s fingers wedge between your legs to toy with your clit. He rubs quick circles with two fingers as he purrs words of filth into your ear—how good his pretty thing is for him, how well you came for him, how tight you are. 

“There you go, little one,” Boba says, his words like a tendril of dark smoke. “Cum for your king.”   

His efforts are quickly rewarded as you shudder and lock up harder than durasteel beneath him. A blinding surge of vicious heat, knocks you clean off your feet and steals away all the air left in your lungs as your nails dig into the sandstone—trembling and grappling blindly for a foothold in your own head. The cold chest plate is a much needed anchor for the overwhelming intensity that threatens to drown you and bury you six fix under.   

He bites down again when he cums, his hips digging into you with short, rough jabs. “Fuck—you take me so well.” You squirm, feeling his cock throb and spill into you, making the mess between your legs smear over your thighs. His thrusts stutter to a stop as he sighs deeply and pulls out, a mixture of his cum and your arousal spilling onto the floor. Boba huffs above you, drags a finger through your swollen folds and pushes it back inside of you. “Good girl.”

You shiver—reduced to a useless puddle with no intent from moving off the floor as Boba’s weight moves away. You could sleep here—that’s something completely plausible you think. Nice, warm dirt—

Boba purrs your name—the sound piquing your interest enough that you overcome the heaviness that’s settled in your body and move your head. He’s returned to his throne, cheeks a bit flushed and his chest rising and falling to recover precious air. You watch as Boba peels off his cuirass with practiced ease, and lays it with care onto the floor. He murmurs your name a second time and pats his lap, coaxing you off the floor. 

You happily slither onto his thighs, exhausted and all too eager to be swept up into the warmth of his arms. He grunts as you tuck your head under his chin and cuddle into his chest, relishing the rough scrape of his palms folding over your shoulder and the outside of your thigh. His soft breaths tickle the top of your head paired with the quiet, but steady rhythm of his heart beating beneath your fingertips and ear pressed onto his sternum. Your eyes flutter shut and though a hushed silence falls over the room, there’s nothing to be said. 

Boba tucks his nose into your hair and you smile, the slow speak of your heart unraveling into a lush garden of something new and brittle—like flakes of frost in the early morning sun. He’s more bruise than bleed nowadays—a wound closed then reopened and he promises nothing of a future beyond what you have in these moments. And yet—

You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

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