#unless i’m blind and can’t find them

[genderflouiid]

alpha james this, alpha james that, what about alpha regulus HUH

someone send me recs for alpha reg pls i’ll love you forever xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

[suguann]

Possessive!Geto who pretends he doesn't care when he overhears that a new high-paying customer comes to the club every Friday to watch you specifically perform on stage, knowing he can’t really do anything about it unless a patron breaks the rules printed on a neon sign above the bar—No touching the dancers unless you're tipping—even if he’s the one in charge.

He’ll smile and nod, shaking hands with big spenders with sleazy smiles in the VIP lounge while his eyes find you from the other side of the room as you climb into another man’s lap.

He can’t stop his jaw from clenching when that same customer tips a month’s worth of rent every week or asks about private shows even though you don't do them. How he notices you smiling prettily for this customer, eyelashes fluttering with stars in your eyes to match the glitter on your cheeks before you walk off stage toward the dressing rooms. 

Sometimes you play the part of making a lonely man feel wanted too well. 

Possessive!Geto whose hand tightens around his glass tumbler, watching the man who’s been coming to see you (now twice a week) slip a thick white card into the top of your stockings. The fact that he touched your thigh with his dirty hands irks Geto the most.

In times like this, he wishes he had never come up with the rule about keeping your relationship a secret—so nobody thinks I’m picking favorites—because regret is a thick pill to swallow.

When you walk up to his office later, Geto wastes no time by dragging you down onto his lap, trailing his nose down the slope of your neck where your soft-smelling perfume is strongest and sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat for everyone to see. 

You’re still wearing those cross-stitch stockings—the feel of them under his hands making him halfway hard—and he yanks the bodice of your dress down just underneath the swell of your breasts to get rid of the thought of another man touching you.

“B-but, Suguru, we’re at work—”

“Let me enjoy these pretty tits, huh?” he growls before sucking a nipple into his greedy mouth.

You whine his name, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

The blinds to his floor-to-ceiling windows are open, but it's tinted glass so nobody can tell what happens behind locked doors. Except, when he glances toward the busy club below, he wishes everyone in the building could witness what it looks like for you to fall apart under his hands—a personal show you put on just for him.

Only him. His fingers hook inside you to feel you tight and hot around him as a reminder.

Possessive!Geto who has enough one day after that customer asks for another private session—this time, he goes to Geto directly.

It’s a busy night, and every dancer works the floor. Well, almost. 

You’re kneeling between his spread legs, spit dribbling down your chin, whimpering while trying to open your throat for him.

He brushes your hair away from your face, watching your mouth messily slurp around his cock under his desk—his jaw is slack, and his other hand clenches on the armrest of his chair. “So good—fuck, baby—so fucking pretty,” he mutters, his top teeth catching his bottom lip.

His head tilts back when you eagerly fill your mouth with him again and again until he feels you choke, making his thighs flex under your hands. Geto’s thumb smooths an arc across your cheek.

“There you go,” he huffs. “I love that little mouth—”

There’s a knock on his door, and he feels you panic, moving to pull off his cock. But the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Your nails bite into his skin, tears prickling your lashline as small distressed mewls escape your lips.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he hisses. “Not unless I say so.”

Another knock echoes in his office.

“Come in.”

The customer with the too-shiny tie and a penchant for slipping thousands into your g-string opens the door with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye, sauntering into the room like he owns the place. “How about that deal—”

Whatever he’s about to ask is lost on Geto because his ears are ringing when he feels you swallow around him, and his balls draw up tight against his body, and—

Possessive!Geto who grunts when you moan around his cock as he cums down your throat, his lips twitching at the look of shock on the customer’s face.

“I’ve heard your deal,” he says eventually, glancing down at your glazed eyes and wiping away what little mess escaped your mouth with his thumb. “But she’s not yours to take.”

[jellicatty]

‧˚꒰ TRAFALGAR LAW FALLING IN LOVE ₊

╰┈➤ contains : trafalgar law x gender neutral reader. fluff. sfw. 908 words.

╰┈➤ note : he may be a bit ooc here huhu plz forgive me ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

— "You're interesting Y/N- ya"

• There’s only one thing you need in order to impress and catch the attention of Trafalgar Law: be smart. Body shape, body count, and looks do not matter to him. With intelligence alone, it’s easy to capture this man’s eyes.

• Once he’s attracted to you, expect to be showered with teasing remarks. Of course, not too many, just enough to make you flustered for the rest of the day. However, this does not mean he wants to be your significant other. Remember, this is Trafalgar Law we’re talking about. He wants to be sure if this is a feeling he wants to pursue.

• He knows the dangers of the New World and losing someone close all too well. So, I’m guessing he will never make a move (unless provoked by a near-death experience). Only stares from afar, small jokes here and there, and maybe some light touches too. It would be the end for him if you knew he was somehow attracted to you.

• You probably have to be friends before the whole ordeal happens. I can’t see Law falling in love at first sight or immediately after a few days. There has to be some deep trust and chemistry running between you.

— "This can’t be real."

• After some time, if his crush on you still hasn’t gone away, then he might consider thinking about it. Hard. Because there’s no way he, Trafalgar Law, could catch feelings for someone. He knew the day would come when he would eventually find someone and harbor feelings. But he didn’t expect it to be you, someone already dear to him.

• Well, he’s glad it was you. Since Law is a terrifying ex-warlord, supernova pirate, it would be extremely hard for him to have feelings for a civilian. Heck, he wouldn't even let himself, nor his crew, get close enough to a random person. It’s too risky.

• So he has feelings for you. Now what? He would be in full denial mode. He will deny it and will push you away. He’s angry and afraid of the connection blossoming between you two. Having lost so many people, from his own family and country to Corazon, his acknowledgment of his feelings would take a while. If he does stop pretending to be blind to his own emotions, a confession from him will be very unlikely. He’s taking this to his grave and no one can possibly know about it.

• His crew knows. Specifically, Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin. Bepo would for sure know about it first, then tell the other two about his assumption. Shachi and Penguin would quickly agree and start planning.

"Operation: get Law some game!"

• Law would be so annoyed if they knew because, first of all, only he has to know it. Second, what happens if you knew, huh? That aside, his advances towards you would be so awkward and… peculiar.

• Shachi and Penguin probably saw "Medical pick-up lines for your babe!" and gave it to Law.

• "Erythema is red. Cyanosis is blue. I get apneic when I see you!"

• Oh Law, please don't let them bring out the medical pick-up lines. He would handle the flirting himself but damn, why is it so hard now that he likes you? His smoothness is still there, but eye contact and your smile can easily break his cool.

• Speaking of your smile, Law is enchanted by it! Not only that, but by your eyes too. It doesn’t matter if the color is dark brown or blue, as long as he feels the sincerity and affection behind it, he would be head over heels. Imagine, Law getting flustered at your pretty eyes fluttering (*≧ω≦)

• He would be so soft for you and don’t take advantage of it. Just bring out your best puppy eyes and he will do anything for you (but you will hear a quiet grumble). His weakness is cute things, and if you’re someone with a face leaning on the cutesy side, then congratulations! You have Trafalgar Law wrapped around your finger. Joking, but it would really be such an advantage if you’re cute.

• Plus, he’s overprotective of you. Really, really protective. His possessiveness and protectiveness show whenever you’re in danger. Law would definitely not put you on the front lines when a battle happens. This is for your own safety, and he doesn't care if you hate him for it. He trusts your abilities, but there are enemies out of your league, especially in the New World.

• You nearly dying can push him to suddenly blurt out his feelings. It would be really random and subtle; you won’t even realize it at first. Him too, he would do it unintentionally since his emotions controlled his mouth.

• There are other ways he can confess; he would much prefer it if it was spontaneous though because thinking too much about it makes him nervous. However, he still plans ahead of time what to say to you. It wouldn’t be extravagant. Maybe a few simple words then he’s out. But...

— Words can’t describe what he’s feeling.

• No amount of words can truly convey the overwhelming emotion drowning his torn heart. He takes Y/N's hand in his and slowly moves it to where his heart resides. His heartbeat quickens with each passing second, his breath picking up pace while his eyes search theirs for the familiar beauty that entices him.

— "All of this… it’s because of you."

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[marvelouslizzie]

"Not a study date"

Summary: You have the biggest crush on Bucky Barnes but despite all your efforts, he doesn’t seem to notice you. Can one study date change it all?

Pairing: College Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, idiots in love, study date, misunderstandings, jealousy, language, oral sex (male and female receiving), protected sex, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 6.4K

A/N: I really wanted to write a College!Bucky Barnes story and this is it. It’s full of foolishness, miscommunication, and jealousy with a happy ending. This means it’s basically smut with a little bit of plot. I hope you enjoy it and if you do please give some kind of feedback. Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Nothing seems to change whenever you visit your best friend's ex-boyfriend Sam Wilson. That sounds weird every time you remember Michelle dated him but things are just fine between them since it was Michelle who just decided to change schools and they ended things on friendly terms. He’s a good friend and really fun to play games with since he’s a sore loser but most importantly he’s your only connection to Bucky Barnes. 

God, that sounds so wrong. Like you are only friends with him just to be closer to Bucky, that’s definitely not the case but you can’t deny Bucky is one of the reasons you are visiting him so often. You like that Bucky secretly watches you two while you are playing games and celebrates your every victory. You know he just loves to annoy Sam but it makes you so happy every time he joins your efforts to brag about winning but that’s mostly it. 

You tried really hard to find some common interests with Bucky so you two can chat. He likes games, he loves reading books and you have a couple of classes together. You have a lot of things in common but nothing sticks for long when you are trying to have a conversation with him. You are not sure if it’s because he’s totally uninterested in you or you are just horrible at flirting. This doesn’t stop you from trying though. 

That’s why you are at Sam and Bucky’s place. Once again you found a reason to stop by and maybe because he has had enough of you, Bucky makes a comment that you did not expect.

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on Sam.”

“What?” The shock you feel is so hard to explain. You how no idea how surprised you sound.

“Well, you are here nearly every day.” Bucky tries to explain his thought process, already sounding awkward because of your reaction.

“Eww, no.” 

“What do you mean eww no?” Sam sounds offended.

“You are my best friend’s ex-boyfriend.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and?” God, does Sam thinks that way, too? You thought you two had an understanding. “You dated my best friend. You are like a brother to me. Of course, I’m gonna say eww.”

“Oh, some kind of girl's code, huh?” Bucky somehow sounds relieved but you don’t notice it’s because of your response.

“Great answer, bub. I was testing you.” Sam’s offended tone instantly disappears.

“Were you?” Bucky questions him before you can. “You sounded really offended to me.”

“Part of my talent.”

The conversation quickly changes into something else but Bucky’s observation sticks with you. Bucky thinking you might have feelings for Sam leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You are here to see him, day after day, and all this time he thought you just came to see Sam. Either he’s blind or you are just not good at showing your intentions. And then there’s a third option that you don’t even wanna think about: He noticed exactly who you are here for and decided to ignore it so he doesn’t have to reject you. Either way, it hurts. 

You consider canceling your study session with Bucky. It’s just gonna be awkward to sit next to him and try to focus on the notes. Plus, you are sure studying alone will be more efficient. No distractions at all.

“About our studying session…” You start to speak before leaving with the intention to cancel your plans.

“Oh yeah, you are still coming, right?” Bucky’s whole face lights up. It’s hard not to see it. He seems excited. “I convinced Faye to share her notes with me. You know how great her notes are. It’s already guaranteed that we will get an amazing score.”

Oh, that’s why he’s excited. Because he used his charm and managed to convince Faye to share her notes. She doesn’t do that often, if ever. She knows how precious her notes are and he’s right. That is literally your golden ticket to get a great score. 

“I was gonna ask if you still want to study together.”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?” He sounds confused.

“I don’t know.” You sound unsure. “Maybe you are tired of me since I’m always around.”

“Oh, come on! I was just joking.” He quickly responds. “You always come here to spend time with Sam. We never hang out just the two of us.”

He’s right. He always stays away from you. Only making comments from far away. Maybe you should’ve taken that as a sign.

“This is not hanging out, either. It’s just studying together.” 

He shrugs and you miss the disappointed expression that passes his face.

“Just come, okay? I promise it will be worth it.”

“Ugh, I’m glad I won’t be here. You two are insufferable. It’s just a study date. No big deal.” Sam can’t help but comment on your conversation.

“It’s not a date.” You and Bucky say at the same time. You look at him, feeling disappointed but try to hide it as much as you can.

“Whatever you say,” Sam raises both of his hands in defense but doesn’t seem like he believed you.

*

This was definitely a bad idea. It’s been a while since you two started studying and you did not understand a word. Not because Faye’s notes are bad. Nope, they are perfect but you can’t seem to focus on the words. The only thing you can focus on is Bucky’s smell. You try really hard not to check him out and it’s relatively easier since he’s sitting close to you but his smell… God, that’s so distracting. You have no idea what exactly it is. It seems like a mix of his own smell, the perfume he uses, and a bit of a sweat. You should be disgusted by the thought of sweat but all you want to do is get closer to him.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. This is just a silly crush, nothing more. You can just focus on the notes and learn something useful before the exam. You can do that, right? While you try to read the same sentence for the 19th time, Bucky takes his phone and starts to type something. The idea of him texting someone else while studying with you is so irritating but there’s nothing you can do about it. This is just a stupid study session for him. You push your chair to the back, thinking about getting a glass of water.

“I’m gonna get-” When you notice the awkward expression on Bucky’s face you stop talking. Before he can cover it, you notice the reason he’s looking so uncomfortable. His erection is impossible to hide in those gray shorts he’s wearing. 

“It’s not what you think.” He immediately responds while trying to hide his erection but there’s no way he can tuck it in while you are staring at him.

“Are you really sexting with someone while we are studying?” That’s the first thing that comes to your mind and you can’t keep that thought to yourself. 

“What? No!”

“I mean… it’s alright. You can see or talk to whoever you want but…” It’s so hard to collect your thoughts and turn them into meaningful sentences while your mind is running miles in seconds. It feels so humiliating and not because of the erection. The thought of him sexting someone right next to you… while you tried to get his attention all this time… It just stings.

“What the fuck?” He sounds completely shocked. “I’m not sexting anyone. Why would you even think that?”

“Why else would you get an erection in the middle of studying?” You really can’t think of any other possibilities. Plus he’s still holding his phone. “It’s fine.”

He says your name in a way he never did before. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m not sexting with anyone. I texted Sam and then I was googling a word I saw in Faye’s notes because I have no idea what it means and I thought it would help me calm down.”

“Oh.” That’s completely unexpected. Then why did he get an erection out of the blue?

“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want you to find out like this. God! It’s so embarrassing.” His words don’t make sense to you. What is he trying to say?

“Find out about what?” You try to understand him. “That you get erections?”

“What? No.” Then what did he mean? “I didn’t want you to find out… about my feelings… like this.” He sounds so nervous, even more nervous than you are feeling.

“For me?” The question comes instantly because there is no way that’s what he meant.

“Of course for you. Who else?” 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You finally put two and two together. “You just got an erection, because of me?”

“Ihm…” You can’t help but notice how awkward he sounds. “Yeah… I’m really sorry. I’m so ashamed.” He covers his face with both of his hands for a second. Then he continues. “I really didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I swear I’m not a creep. You just smell… so good.”

“You just got an erection because you have feelings for me?” You are sounding like a stuck record at this point but you can’t believe he really said that.

“Yeah. I was planning to ask you out, tonight. That’s why I was texting Sam but… instead… I made a fool of myself.” The panic in tone is so evident. Your eyes go back to his still-obvious erection. “I’m normally not like this. I don’t know what happened. Please forgive me.”

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You ask without taking your eyes off the outline of his erection.

“What?”

“Since you got hard because of me, I’m offering help.” You slowly close the distance between you two.

“That’s not… necessary.” He gulps. “It will go away in a few minutes.”

You have no idea where this wave of confidence comes from. Maybe because he just told you he wanted to ask you out or maybe because the smell of you gave him a hard-on. You just find yourself gently palming his erection over his shorts and he instantly takes a sharp breath.

“What if… I don’t want it to go away?”

“You’re not… you’re not offended?”

“You are not a random creep out in the street, Bucky. I know you. I like you. Why would I be offended?”

“Wait, you like me?” He sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah.” You keep gently rubbing him. He doesn’t take a step back or try to stop you. His eyelashes flutter like he’s enjoying the sensation. “Why do you think I was visiting Sam so often?”

“Not because you have a crush on him?” He asks with a smile.

“Nope, because I have a crush on you.”

“You… have… a crush on me?” It feels like in the span of a couple of minutes, you two changed roles and it’s his turn to feel surprised by your words.

“Yeah. For a while.”

“I guess Sam was right.” 

“Was he?” You ask while you move your head closer. “About what?”

“He said you like me and I’m too blind to notice it.”

“Hmm… Even he noticed it, huh? I guess he is right.” Bucky looks at your lips while you are talking. You can see the idea of kissing you forming in his head.

“Can I…” He sounds like he isn’t sure, yet he tries one more time. “Can I kiss you?”

“My hand is on your hard cock, right now. What do you think?” Your response gives him a huge grin.

“I still wanna hear you say it.”

“Yes, you can kiss me, Bucky.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips instantly crush on yours, like a thirsty man who finally found a glass of cold water. His lips move fast against yours until you rub on his cock again. It makes him gasp in the middle of the kiss, and the rhythm is lost. You feel how painfully hard he is under your touch. You don’t know if it is your effect or it’s because it has been a while for him. You would like to know, but you don’t want to ask. Instead, your hands move to the waistband of his shorts. You look directly into his eyes, silently asking for permission. He just gulps and then blinks. 

You always thought he was just distant when it comes to you, but you finally realize it was actually Bucky’s shyness. He gets flushed under your touch, struggling to find the right words. He communicates through his body language, but you want to change that a little. You want him to be vocal if you are gonna have sex. That’s when the idea of sucking him off comes to you. Unexpectedly, you kneel and gently push his shorts and boxers down while he watches you with big eyes. There’s no fear or worry behind those eyes. You see how excited but reserved he is. You want to show him there’s nothing to worry about. While directly looking at him, you start to stroke him. His cock is so close to your face, but you don’t make a move, you only move your hand up and down on his shaft slowly. His breathing shutters under your touch, but he says nothing. He just watches you.

“Is this okay?” You ask, already knowing it is. You just want him to talk. You wanna hear his voice.

“Ye-yeah.” He sounds so breathy. You start to twist your wrist a little, just to change the sensation.

“What about this?” He takes a deep breath.

“So good.” 

Maybe he isn’t a talker during sex. That’s fine, but you don’t want to give up that quickly. So this time, you sit on your knees and take him inside your mouth without any warning.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” His reaction makes you want to smile so widely, but your mouth is full of him. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Why? Don’t you like it?” You ask while pumping him with your hand.

“Just warn me, so I don’t embarrass myself.”

“Embarrass yourself how?” Your question catches him off guard. “I wanna hear those reactions. Don't hold back!” 

He just nods like a good boy, and that makes you smile. You don’t say anything, though. You just take him back into your mouth. This time, he lets out a moan. Your tongue moves around the head of his cock, swirling over and over again until he whines. He literally whines under your tongue and that makes you feel like you won a prize. It doesn’t take him long to grab your hair. He doesn’t try to control your movement or push you. It just feels like he’s trying to find something to hold on to.

You pace up a little, moving your head up and down on his cock while gently massaging his balls. That does it. First, you hear a loud moan that sounds like choking, then before he could even utter a word, the first shot of his come hits the back of your throat. You keep going until he empties himself. While you move away from him, you see his eyes are still closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them just in time to catch you swallowing.

“Oh my fucking god…” He sounds like he can’t believe what he is witnessing. You wonder if no one has ever done this in front of him before.

“How are you feeling now?” Your voice is much calmer than you expect. 

“So good. You have no idea.”

“I might have a little bit of an idea.” You smile while standing up. The hard floor tired your knees so you rub both of them.

“That was just amazing.” For some reason, he sounds younger and inexperienced at this moment. Like this was his first blowjob ever but you know that’s not the case. You heard a couple of stories from Sam, and you know this isn’t Bucky’s first rodeo. Yet, he sounds so affected by you. That directly goes to your ego.

You sit back down on your chair, not knowing what to do next, but it doesn’t take you long to realize Bucky does. He’s already getting on his knees while you give him a confused look.

“You know, that’s not necessary, right?”

“I know.”

“You don’t need to return the favor or anything. I did it because I wanted to.” You have no idea why you are discouraging him to do whatever he is planning on doing. You want to see what he wants, yet you don’t want him to feel obliged or anything.

“And now I am doing this because I want to.” 

He puts his hands on both of your legs, gently pushing them apart. You didn’t realize how turned on you are until this moment. Your focus was completely on him, wanting to make him feel good and you forgot about yourself. You didn’t even realize how wet you are. Carefully, he moves into the space between your legs and pushes your skirt up. His fingers graze over your covered pussy, and you are sure he can actually feel your wetness through the fabric.

“Can I take it off?” God, why does he sound so shy while asking that? And why does it turn you on even more?

“Are you gonna ask my permission for every single move?”

“Do you not want me to?”

“I like it, but you don’t have to ask everything. Not after coming inside my mouth.” You smile after finishing your sentence and you watch how flushed he gets, but you see that he understands what you mean. His hands reach for your underwear and take it off pretty quickly like he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t touch your skirt, simply gets under it. That’s why you can’t see the first time he licks you. Immediately you move your skirt up to your waist and here he is, buried between your legs. He hungrily eats you out, his long licks sending shivers down your spine. 

“Oh my god!” 

Your reaction makes him look up for the first time. That flushed expression turned into pure hunger. His blue eyes watch every mimic you make while he starts to suck your clit. He definitely started strong, but you can’t complain, especially when you are this soaked. You didn’t even realize you pushed your legs together and trapped him between them until he gently pushed them apart.

“Oh, sorry.” You quickly say, but he doesn’t seem to care. He licks, he sucks, and does everything in his power to crumble under his touch. It’s so intense that you can’t think of anything other than the way he makes you feel. You don’t even notice how quickly your first orgasm hits you. It’s hard and fast. You can’t keep your voice down. No, you moan his name so loudly. If he didn’t come a couple of minutes ago, the way you said his name over and over again would get him hard again. Even with that in mind, he could feel the blood rushing to his dick, yet he keeps licking you until you push his head away.

“That’s… that’s enough.” It’s hard to breathe normally. You really didn’t expect to come this hard. The orgasm is still running through your whole body. 

“Sensitive?” His voice is low yet sweet.

“Yeah, a little.” You take a deep breath. “Just give me a second.”

He does that, but instead of moving away, he puts his head on your leg. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you look at him. He is so pretty like this, looking up to you with big blue eyes and a wet mouth. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” You smile. “I didn’t expect to come this hard.”

“Well…” You watch a big grin spreading on his lips. “Welcome to my world. I didn’t expect to come without a warning either.”

“That good?”

“Oh, yeah. That good.” He quickly agrees. “Sorry about that though.”

“Sorry about what?” You really have no idea what he means.

“Sorry about coming without warning.”

“Oh. That’s fine.” You stop for a second. “Sorry about giving you a hard-on.”

“The most embarrassing and the most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”

“Hmm… How so?” You fish for more.

“I don’t… You know… Go around getting hard-ons randomly.”

“Really? I thought that happened a lot to men.” 

“Not like this. Waking up with morning wood? Yeah. That happens, but getting an erection in the middle of studying? That’s a first.”

“Happy to have a first in your life.”

“I never came like this without a warning either.”

“Two firsts.” You don’t realize how smug you sound, but he does.

“What about you?”

“I don’t think I have ever come this hard without… you know… something inside me.”

“Is that so?” The way he smiles just makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. “You like to have something inside?”

“If they know… how to use it.”

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?” 

He moves his head away from your right leg, repositioning himself, and before you could say anything, his mouth is on you again. His tongue is gentle, testing the waters to see if you are still sensitive, but honestly, you are not. You just want him to move a little faster. You don’t say it though. You want to see what he is planning. He keeps on licking you for a while, making sure you are ready for his fingers and when he decides that you are, he slowly pushes his index finger inside. You moan in response.

“Does it feel good?” He takes his mouth off your clit for a second to ask.

“Yeah. It feels so good!” You can feel what he is trying to do. He’s building up your pleasure so slowly, you know it’s going to be explosive at the end. He keeps pumping his finger in and out of you while watching your expressions. 

“Do you want the second one or…” You don’t let him finish his question. 

“I want the second one.”

Your response makes him smile again. You are not sure what makes him happier: your eagerness or your openness. It does seem like he isn’t used to getting direct feedback, but he thrives on it. Quickly, he adds the second finger inside and you can’t help but notice how his thick fingers are filling you. It’s such a delicious feeling. You are so lost in it, you don’t realize how he leans back into your pussy. He nibbles your clit carefully while moving his finger at a steady pace. You can’t help but think he knows what he’s doing and he’s good at reading your reactions. He notices you react more when he licks instead of sucks, so he quickly switches back to it.

“Oh, fuck!” You love how his tongue feels against your skin. Your hands find his hair, pulling it gently just to ground yourself. You feel him moan against your clit when you tug on his hair. The idea of him enjoying it somehow turns you on even more. You decide to test it and pull his hair a little bit more when you feel like doing it. His loud moan vibrates on your swollen clit. It’s like he can’t get enough of it.

“Someone likes a bit of pain.” 

He pulls away from your pussy for a second. When he looks at you, you can see how turned on he is. The hunger is evident in his eyes. 

“Someone likes being full.”

“I’m not full, yet.” You aren’t trying to tease him, that’s the truth yet you can see that sounds like a promise to him. The promise of taking a lot more than just two fingers. He doesn’t say anything. He just goes back to licking and pumping his fingers. The only difference is he’s moving a lot faster than before and you aren’t sure how long you can take this before your orgasm comes back to crush you. It’s overwhelming yet not enough. You don’t realize how your body arches before you start to lose yourself in that pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words come out involuntarily. “Don’t stop, Bucky. Please. So good. So fucking good.”

He keeps going, keeping that same pace. He wants to encourage you and talk to you, but his mouth is busy giving you pleasure. Hearing you moaning and begging is enough for now.

“Oh, god.” Your whole body starts to shake. It’s like your whole body is electrified. “Yes, yes, yes, Bucky. God, I love your mouth so much.”

He smiles against your clit but doesn’t break the contact. He didn’t think you would be this vocal, but he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Ahh, fuck, ahhh yes.” You moan out while shaking. You have no idea how long this orgasm lasts, but you feel so good. As your shaking starts to slow down, Bucky starts to move slower to match that.

“Mmm.” You knew sex with Bucky would be good but this is definitely how you imagined it. Finally, he moves his mouth away from you when he realizes your orgasm is done. You feel so boneless, so relieved.

“Are you okay?” His question brings you back to reality and you notice your eyes are closed. You open them back up and meet his gaze.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great.” He smiles so proudly.

“Glad to hear that.”

“You have no idea how tired yet relaxed I am feeling right now.”

“Not too tired I hope.” That surprises you.

“Why is that?”

“I thought you wanted to be full.” Then you see his erection. It’s actually impossible not to see how painfully hard he is even though he already came once.

“You want to…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence. You thought you would be done after this. You never had someone who wanted you like this before. The feeling settles into your chest. He wants you. He still wants you that bad after coming so hard. It makes you feel seen and desired.

“Unless you don’t want to…”

“Oh, I do.” Your response is instant. You really do. Even after two orgasms, you feel like you want more. You imagined riding his dick or him bending you over and fucking you hard so many times. You want to know how it really feels. 

“Good.” He stands up, and when his erection is on your eye level, you can’t help but stare. Not every dick is aesthetically pleasing. Some don’t even look like they would feel good, but Bucky… Bucky’s dick waters your mouth like you didn’t already give him a blowjob. You need it inside of you. While you are lost in thoughts, Bucky picks you up from your chair. You let out a small yelp while he offers you a warm smile.

“Just carrying you to the bedroom, doll.”

“Doll?” You never heard him use that nickname before.

“Yeah, you are a pretty little doll. So beautiful and so smart. Very eager and loud.”

You don’t know how to react. A lot of praises combined with stuff that makes you wanna question him more.

“Am I that loud?” You can’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure my neighbors hate us right now.”

“Oh god.” You feel your cheeks getting red, but he doesn’t seem concerned.

“Don’t let that stop you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel, doll.” He gently puts you on top of the bed. 

“Doll.” You repeat, without an implied question mark. 

“If you don’t like it…”

“I do. I really do.” You want to be his pretty little doll and your reaction makes him smile again. “It’s just new. I never heard you say it.”

“Because it is only for you.” Those words cause different a kind of warmth to spread through your chest.

You watch him open the drawer and pull out a condom. He rips the package off impatiently and puts it on with haste. Seeing how impatient he is makes you giggle and that makes him look back at you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Someone is eager to be inside me.”

“Aren’t you eager to feel my cock inside you?” His words take you by surprise. What happened to that shy boy who couldn’t find the word to tell you what he wants? Your shocked look makes him worry a little. He’s afraid that he crossed some kind of line.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Your words sweep away his fear.

“You like that?” He asks while closing the distance between you. “You like when I say dirty stuff like that?”

“Yeah. I love it.”

“You wanna hear how good you are for me?” You didn’t expect that question at all. He moves closer to you, forcing you to lie down. He positions himself between your legs. “Because you are so good for me.” His words make your pussy clench around nothing. You really need him inside you, and he doesn’t waste any time. He knows you are as impatient as he is. He slowly pushes his cock inside, taking his time and being gentle. He moves back and then forth until he’s balls deep inside you and you can’t hold back that loud moan. It just feels so good to be full.

“Shit.” You throw your head back. Your legs automatically wrap around his torso. He leans down and gives you a long kiss, taking his sweet time so you can get used to the feeling of him. Then he starts to move slowly while his mouth moves to your neck, gently sucking on your skin. It feels great, but somehow it’s not enough. So you start to move your hips with him, matching his rhythm but creating more friction.

“You want more already?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, more like he’s amused.

“Yeah. I need it harder.”

“Harder.” He repeats. “My doll needs it harder.”

Before you can say anything, he moves away from you. A loud whine leaves your lips. You don’t like that feeling of emptiness. You want to protest, but he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. He pushes your legs up and repositions himself between your legs. Then without saying a word, he gets inside you again.

“Holy fuck.” Your reaction comes out instantly. It feels so different, even more full. Then he starts to move, a little harder than before. Even though he isn’t using much force, because of the angle, it feels much better.

“Is it hard enough for you?” He sounds cheeky. 

“Yes, for now.”

“For now.” He repeats your words. “For now is good because we are just starting.”

You would love to say something back, but it feels too good. The only thing you can do is moan. With every moan you let out, he moves a little bit faster, he grows a little bit more impatient. He pays attention to what makes you moan more, which movement makes you lose yourself, and tries to repeat them. The room is filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours and how wet you are. Combined with your moans, he starts to lose control and move faster than before. That triggers more moans out of you. It turns into a vicious cycle until you are panting and begging.

“Please, please, please…” You can already taste your orgasm. It’s that close.

“Please what? Tell me what you need.”

“More… I need more.”

“Be more specific, doll. More of what?” That nickname sends a jolt of electricity through your body. “Do you want me to rub your clit?”

“No, no.” That’s not what you need. “I need you to move faster.”

“If I move faster… I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Don’t hold back.” You say while taking deep breaths. “Let’s come together.”

“Are you sure? It won’t last that long.”

“Try to hold back until I say let go.” You really want to come at the same time.

“I’m not sure if that will work.”

“You can stop anytime if you feel like you are about to come before me. That’s okay.”

“But what about…” You don’t let him finish.

“We can build my orgasm back up. It’s there, I can feel it. Just move as fast as you can and try to hold back. You can let go when I start coming, okay?”

He nods, but you see he’s not fully convinced. He just doesn’t want to disappoint you.

“It’s okay if you come before me. Not the end of the world.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna let you down.” The vulnerability is so evident in his voice.

“You can never let me down. I don’t care if you come early. I will take it as a compliment.”

Your words make him smile a little. His hesitation is still there, but the urge to please you outweighs his worries. He leans down and kisses you in response. Long and full of love. You realize how much your words mean to him just with that kiss. When he pulls back, he starts to move again. He returns to his previous pace and starts to go faster bit by bit. You can feel that familiar feeling of approaching orgasm again. It’s slowly building up, but when you look at Bucky’s face, you notice he’s closer than you are. You need to get there a little faster. That’s why your fingers quickly find your clit and start to rub. When he notices what you are doing, he groans. His hips start to move so fast, you can’t help but scream. Your fingers combined with his fast pace finally push you over that edge.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.” You repeat without thinking and he knows what that means. He can finally let go. His hands grab your waist, getting that support he needs to fuck you into the mattress. The way he moves makes you see the stars. 

“Fuck, doll, I’m coming too!” Your mouth opens for a silent scream while he starts to come. The way he moans and groans fills you with pleasure, knowing you are the reason behind all of that. “Oh, god.” He keeps moving even though he’s done. He wants you to enjoy your orgasm till the last drop and you do. You let yourself thrive on every last bit of that amazing feeling. 

He finally stops moving when he realizes you are done. He gently pulls himself out of you, making you whine a little, and lays right next to you. You turn to your side, facing him while still trying to calm your breathing down.

“You just ruined me,” he suddenly says.

“I ruined you? I think it’s the other way around, mister.” He’s the one who gave you three mind-blowing orgasms and he has the audacity to say this. 

“I don’t think you understand.” He sounds calm yet sure. “Sex never felt this amazing before.”

His words make you giggle a little but you are aware he’s right. It never felt this good before him and there’s no way you can go back.

“You are a thief.”

“Me? A thief?” Your words catch him off guard.

“Yep, you are stealing my thoughts and presenting them as yours.” 

“So it was that good for you too?”

“My mind is blown. You have no idea.” That gives him the biggest grin. 

“Does that mean you will let me take you on a date?”

“What date?” You play dumb. You know exactly what he means but you want him to actually ask. 

“You know what date.”

“Nope, I don’t. I haven’t been asked on a date for ages.”

He grabs your hand and looks directly into your eyes. “Will you go on a date with me, doll?”

“Of course, I will, with pleasure.” And that makes him laugh.

“Yep, a lot of pleasure.”

“Shit!” You suddenly jump.

“What?” He sounds so worried.

“Our exam!” You completely forgot about it. “We were supposed to study!”

“We still have time.” He tries to calm you down. “Just lie down a little until you catch your breath. We have Faye’s notes, remember? It’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Oh, yeah.” You remember Faye’s notes. It suddenly changes your mood.

“Are you okay?” He immediately notices. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. We are lucky we have her notes.” You try not to sound bitter but it doesn’t work. He sees right through it.

“Remind me to thank her tomorrow.” You feel the jealousy build up inside you because you know it doesn’t matter how much you beg, Faye never shares her notes, and Bucky managing to convince her could mean only one thing.

“Yeah, I should thank her too.”

“You definitely should.” He watches how your expression changes after his words and his smile grows.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Nothing. I just love seeing you get jealous for nothing.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“Sure, that’s why you look like you wanna stab her a couple of times.”

“No, I don’t.” You deny it at first, but you can see he doesn’t believe you. “I just… know that she doesn’t share her notes with anyone. She must have a crush on you. Which is understandable.”

“Is it?” He’s still smiling like a fool.

“Are you seriously enjoying this?” You are getting so angry that you try to move away from the bed but Bucky grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him. “Let me go!”

“There’s nothing to get jealous about, doll.” He sees you don’t believe him. “I only have eyes for you and that’s what I said to Faye to convince her to give me her notes.”

“What?”

“I told her I want to ask you out, but I wanna impress you with this study date first. She thought it was a great idea and shared her notes with me.”

“I thought this wasn’t a study date.” You remember him denying it was.

“Well, after everything that happened…” He gives you a look that screams sex. “I think we can finally call it a study date.” Those words give you the biggest grin.

“Can we have more study dates like this?”

“Anytime you want, doll. I’m at your service.”

[0o-junebug-o0]

Hii can we please get an Emily Prentiss with a fem reader with something to do with strip poker? :)

Love your fics sm!!

Strip Poker

Here you go, my love! And thank you! Also, I learned how to play texas hold 'em from a hermitcraft video haha

genre: fluff

cw: suggestive 16+! kinda fem! kinda gn!reader (reader's gender is not specified but is described as having breasts and wearing bra), strip poker, getting together, kinda fade to black smut

wordcount: 1.9k

“Wanna play poker?”

You turn to look at Emily. She’s lounging against the arm of her couch and watching you with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smile.

“You better not be like Reid,” you warn.

She laughs. “No, no. Don’t worry. I’m good, but I can’t count cards.”

You raise your eyebrows. “What are you trying to trick me out of? I don’t have any cash.”

“So does that mean you want to play?”

You shrug. “Sure. I don’t know what we would bet though.”

“We could play strip poker,” she says simply, like it’s no big deal at all.

Your eyes widen and you can feel your face warm. “Seriously?”

Emily shrugs. “We don’t have to, of course,” she says nonchalantly. “But, yeah, seriously.”

You swallow hard as you try to wrap your head around Emily’s proposal. Strip poker. With Emily. With the woman you’ve had a crush on for over a year. The thought seems almost too good to be true. You find yourself nodding and Emily’s eyes light up.

You can’t help but feel a little guilty as she pushes herself off the couch and leaves to grab a deck of cards. But she suggested it. It was her idea. It’s not like this was an elaborate plan on your behalf to see her naked.

Figuring it would be easier to play on a flat surface, you slip off the couch and onto the floor, crossing your legs beneath you and leaning back against the base of the couch. You pick at your fingernails nervously as Emily returns waving a deck of cards triumphantly.

She sits on the floor in front of you, leaving about a foot of space, and slips the cards from the pack. “What kind of poker do you want to play?” she asks, shuffling the cards with an ease you find insanely attractive.

“I only know Texas Hold ‘Em,” you admit nervously.

Emily nods and shuffles the cards again. “We’ll play that then. I’ll teach you another variant some other time.”

You haven’t even started to play, but your cheeks warm at the thought of doing this again. 

“No blinds, obviously,” Emily says.

You nod in agreement.

“We’ll bet an item of clothing and the other person can call to match the amount or raise by adding another item.” she continues. “You lose a hand, you lose a piece of clothing. And that includes folding unless it’s right off the bat.”

You nod again, too flustered to come up with any words.

“Alright,” Emily says, dragging out the word as she deals two cards facedown to herself and you.

You pick up your cards. Queen of spades and two of clubs. Not a great hand, but a queen high isn’t horrible.  “I-I’ll bet my shirt,” you mutter.

Emily nods. “I will as well,” she responds, taking three cards off the top of the deck and laying them out between you. Eight of hearts, eight of clubs, and 3 of spades. 

You glance up to see Emily watching you with an indecipherable expression. You can feel your heart rate pick up and you fight the urge to lower your gaze, staring right into her eyes instead. She smiles. “Do you want to raise?” she asks.

“No, I’m good.”

“You ready for the next card?”

You hum in affirmation and she takes the top card from the deck and sets it next to the others. Two of diamonds. You feel a bit of relief at the thought that you might not be the first to begin undressing.

Emily pauses for a moment to give you a chance to raise, and when you don’t she takes the next card from the deck and sets it down to reveal the six of diamonds. “Ace high,” she says, lowering her hand for you to see.

You smirk at her and flip your cards. “Two pair.”

Emily laughs and tilts her head in acknowledgment. She sets her cards down and curls her fingers under the hem of her shirt. Your breath hitches as she slowly starts to lift her shirt, revealing first her toned stomach and then the black bra that perfectly supports her breasts. Her eyes stay locked on yours the entire time. She finally pulls the shirt over her head and tosses it aside and you have to fight the urge to stare. She’s absolutely gorgeous and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

Emily reaches out and rests her hand on your knee, making you jump slightly. “You alright?” she asks sweetly.

You find yourself nodding before you can even properly process her question. She smiles at you and your stomach feels like it does a backflip.

“Ready for the next hand?” she asks, picking up all the cards and shuffling them.

You nod again. It’s like her beauty has rendered you incapable of coherent thought, much less speech. Emily deals the cards and you look to see that you have a six of hearts and a seven of clubs. With some luck, you might end up with a straight and get to see Emily take off another piece of clothing. You blink hard to drag yourself back to reality as Emily says, “I bet my socks.”

You look down at your hand again. “I’ll bet my shirt.”

Emily raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back. Your nerves are quickly starting to shift into excitement. She sets the next three cards down. Ace of hearts, 10 of spades, and jack of clubs.

“I’ll raise my belt,” Emily says. You look up at her to see a cocky expression on her face. The flop gives the chance for a straight, though you doubt she has both a queen and a king, if she already had a straight she’d be raising way more than just her belt. She might have one of them. Or maybe she’s bluffing.

“I’ll match with my belt.”

Emily deals out the turn. A five of diamonds. 

“I raise my pants.”

Your head shoots up and you stare at Emily with wide eyes. Maybe she does have a king and queen. You try to read her, but her expression is the same slight cockiness and self-satisfaction it’s been the whole game. You look back and forth between your hand and the community cards. 

“I fold.”

Emily smiles wide and you hand her your cards face down for her to shuffle back into the deck with the others. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before beginning to unbuckle your belt. Emily’s eyes seem practically glued to your hands as she shuffles the cards. The metal of the buckle clinks as you pull your belt through the loops of your pants and set it off to the side. You lock eyes with Emily as you hook your fingers under your shirt and her hands go still. 

You smirk, pleased to see that you seem to have the same effect on her that she has on you. Taking a leaf from her book, you maintain eye contact as you slowly remove your shirt, and by the time it’s gone and you’re just in your bra, you can see the blush on her cheeks. The realization that she’s enjoying this just as much as you are starts a fire burning in your gut and you start to think that maybe Emily wants you too.

She opens and closes her mouth for a moment, before lowering her gaze back to the cards and shuffling them again. “You’re beautiful,” she says softly.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Th-thank you,” you stutter, taken aback. “You are too.”

She lifts her head slightly and smiles at you softly before handing out the cards. Seven of hearts and king of spades. Emily hums as she looks at her cards. 

“I’ll, um, I’ll bet my socks,” you say. Now that you’re both shirtless, you can feel the excitement curling in your chest. You want to see more of her. 

Emily nods. “I’ll bet my belt.”

She lays down a four of clubs, nine of spades, and a king of clubs. You smile confidently. The flop doesn’t lend itself to anything good so you feel you have a good chance with a pair of kings. Even if Emily has four, as long as another one isn’t played in the turn or river, you’ll win.

“You gonna raise?”

You think for a moment before shrugging. You might as well. “I’ll raise my pants.”

Emily’s face flushes. “I’ll match with my own.”

Neither of you raises the bet as an ace of hearts and eight of clubs are played. When the hand is over, you smirk at her, feeling confident in your victory. You set your cards face up on the floor. Emily laughs and does the same. Your jaw drops. She has a four of spades and a four of hearts.

“You forgot about three of a kind, didn’t you?”

You stare at her in shock. “I—yeah,” you admit. “I thought for sure I had you.”

“That’s what you get for being cocky,” Emily teases with a laugh.

You scowl playfully and stick out your tongue. You quickly tug off your socks and toss them to the side before climbing to your feet. Emily’s gaze follows you as you stand, watching the movement of your fingers as you undo your pants. You can see the way her chest heaves with each breath as she watches you slowly push your jeans off your hips.

You bend over seductively, giving her a good view up your bra as you slide your pants down your legs. You swear you can hear her breath hitch. Once free of your jeans you toss them off to the side and sit back down with your legs crossed in a way that leaves your underwear exposed. 

Emily lowers her gaze and quickly reshuffles and deals the cards. The round passes quickly and you can tell she’s distracted. She jumps straight to betting her pants and you match with your bra, then she loses with a jack high to your pair of threes. She practically jumps to her feet and without removing her belt, pushes her pants down.

The sight of her underwear makes your face burn. They’re a pair of small black boyshorts that hug her ass perfectly as she bends over, forcing you to struggle between choosing to look there or at her breasts. Either way, she’s gorgeous. 

She tosses her pants to the side and, instead of sitting back down where she was, she closes the gap between you and lowers herself to sit on your lap. Your arms shoot up in surprise, your hands hovering over her skin, unsure if you’re allowed to touch. You can hear your pulse rushing in your ears.

Emily drapes her arms around the back of your neck and stares at you for a moment. You stare back with wide eyes and your mouth parted slightly in shock. She brushes her hand over your cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. 

“You can touch me, sweetheart,” she whispers.

You nod desperately and immediately your hands find her hips. “I-is this really happening?” you breathe, unable to wrap your head around it.

“If you want it to.”

You nod again, just as desperately. “Yes, God, yes. I’ve wanted you for so long,” you gasp weakly.

Emily smiles softly at you. “I have as well.” Her gaze drops from your eyes to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You think the way your hand immediately slides into her hair and presses her lips against yours is answer enough.

_____

REQUESTS ARE (temporarily) CLOSED!

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Lonelier in Misery

Part 2 of Lonely in Misery

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!paramedic!reader

Summary: After you first date with Tim, you decide to keep your relationship from Nolan and Bailey for as long as possible.

Warnings: brief angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: Titles are hard sometimes. This is one of those times.

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The morning after your first date with Tim, feigning your continued misery isn’t hard. You miss him already, even though it’s been less than twelve hours since he kissed you and turned your world on its axis. He changed everything, and you never want to go back to how it was before. Now your absent smile and downcast demeanor are because you miss Tim; you miss someone rather than not having anyone. It’s a nice change, but you’re still craving another kiss.

When you arrive at work, Bailey runs across the station to meet you. She pulls you into a tight hug, and you slowly wrap your arms around her in return.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I thought it would work out with Tim.”

“Oh,” you murmur as you realize she’s still making assumptions based on your text from last night. “Right.”

“Don’t take this as a sign or anything, though. I promise I will do better next time! Just tell me what you did and didn’t like.”

“Bailey, you don’t have to set me up again.”

“No, you need someone. I hate seeing you like this. Being lonely sucks, and with our job, we deserve to have a person to go home to.”

“I agree, but a blind date isn’t-“

“You have to give me another chance. Nolan has more friends, plenty that aren’t cops, so I can find you the right guy.”

Bailey turns when the battalion chief calls her name, and you’re left alone again. You’ll have to convince her not to set you up on another date later. The problem is that you can’t tell her why, not unless you want her to insert herself into your relationship with Tim. Bailey is great, she’s your best friend, but she meddles.

You sigh as you pull your phone out. Tim has responded to your good morning text, so you send a quick warning: Bailey wants to set me up on another date since last night ‘didn’t work out’

Tim answers quickly, and his message brings a smile to your face.

Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle all the dates from now on.

While you avoid answering Bailey’s questions, Tim is dealing with his own line of inquiries about the date last night.

“How did it go? You like her, right? I know you’ve met before,” Nolan asks quickly.

“It was fine,” Tim answers.

“Fine… Is that it? I don’t get more details?”

Tim shrugs and repeats, “It went fine.”

Nolan tosses his hands up in exasperation. Tim won’t elaborate, he already knows that, but he needs to know if he and Bailey were right about their idea that you and Tim would be perfect for one another.

“Sergeant Grey!” Nolan calls. “Bradford and I can deliver the safety brochures to the police station.”

“You want to do a rookie’s assignment for them?” Grey asks, his skepticism audible.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yeah. I know you’re just going to visit Bailey, though, you’re not smooth, Nolan.”

“Never expected to be. Thank you, sir!” Nolan turns to Tim to say, “Let’s go.”

“Why?” Tim asks.

“Because I want to hear from both of you. Fine isn’t good enough.”

Tim grumbles as he follows Nolan to the shop. “I’m driving,” he yells when he catches up.

You’re restocking an equipment kit near the open garage door when a police car parks outside. As you set your gear aside, you see Tim exit the driver’s seat. You smile at him, but he shakes his head just before you see Nolan on the other side. It’s not a friendly visit, then.

“Good morning,” Tim greets. “We are here to drop off these public safety cards.”

“Great. Thanks,” you reply as you take them.

Your fingers brush over Tim’s and you feel the same jolt as when he kissed you last night.

“Where’s Bailey?” Nolan asks.

“Kitchen, I think,” you answer.

He nods to thank you, then walks past the fire engines to find Bailey. You raise your brows and look at Tim, but he just sighs. It’s not far-fetched to assume Nolan gave him treatment similar to the one you got from Bailey.

“Alright,” Nolan calls. He returns with Bailey beside him, and you sigh with Tim this time. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

“What happened last night, Tim?” Bailey asks. “You get to the restaurant, and?”

“She’s not who I expected,” Tim answers. He glances at you quickly, and you immediately decide to play along.

“Exactly,” you agree. “Blind date usually implies that you don’t know the person. We’ve met before.”

“Okay, but there’s no animosity or anything. You get along,” Nolan argues. “So, why’d you leave just as sad as when you got there?”

“Because I was still lonely,” you answer.

It’s not a lie. Neither you nor Tim will lie, but you’re going to answer the questions without admitting that they were right. They’ll never let you live it down if they can take credit for your relationship with Tim.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t enjoy yourselves,” Bailey says. “But your relationships are your decisions. And I already have another guy lined up that I want you to meet.”

You open your mouth to argue, but Tim winks at you before you speak. He told you not to worry about it, so you won’t.

“We need to get back to the station if you’re done with the interrogation,” Tim tells Nolan.

“Sure, yeah,” Nolan responds.

You wave discreetly as Tim leaves, and your internal countdown to when you’ll see him again resumes.

As you walk out of the fire station after your shift ends, your phone rings.

“Hi,” you answer.

“Hi,” Tim repeats. “Are you off?”

“I am. I’m leaving right now.”

“Then you should come over for dinner.”

“I’d love that.”

Tim texts you his address, and you smile for the entire trip to his house. When he opens the door and pulls you into a hug, you feel complete again.

“Whoa, it smells amazing in here. Are you cooking?” you ask.

“Maybe,” Tim answers. “That depends on if you have any stereotypical views that I can’t because I’m a man and a cop.”

“I think you can do everything and look good doing it,” you reply happily.

“Then, yes, I’m cooking. And thank you.”

You follow Tim into the kitchen and settle at his side as he finishes preparing the meal. Everything looks great, but you’d do just about anything as long as you were with Tim.

“I’m sorry if I pushed everything too far today. I know we don’t want them in our business, but if you want me to stop covering things up, I will,” Tim offers.

“You didn’t go too far. I thought it was kind of fun. Plus, I like being with you, even if we are lying to my best friend.”

“Lying,” Tim scoffs.

“By omission, yeah.”

Tim rolls his eyes but tugs you closer to kiss you. His hands rest on your cheeks and as you move with him, you know that it is impossible to feel sad or lonely around Tim Bradford.

Two days later, you find yourself pacing beside your ambulance. Tim texted this morning, just: I won’t answer for a while.

There hasn’t been anything on the news or the radio channels about big police operations, so you’re left to worry about him with nothing more to go on. You try to convince yourself that he’s just in a meeting or on patrol with someone, so he can’t use his phone, but then your mind wanders to a dangerous situation where using his phone could get him killed.

“Oh no,” Bailey murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you answer, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “I’m just stressing. For no reason.”

“Get your stuff.”

“What? Why?”

“You need a distraction, and John Nolan is my favorite distraction. Tag along with me?”

You consider it for a moment. If you stay here, you’ll just be worried and alone. “Yes, please,” you decide.

When Bailey parks at the Mid-Wilshire station, you follow her inside and force yourself not to check your phone again. Tim will reach out when he can. Someone calls your name, and both you and Bailey stop.

“Hi, Detective Lopez,” you greet when you see Angela.

She hugs you tightly as she says, “Stop, it’s Angela. Especially now that you’re dating my BFF.”

“What?” Bailey interrupts.

Angela’s eyes widen, and she whispers, “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone knew. He told me, so I just assumed.”

Bailey says your name and points at you, ready to accuse you of lying to her and keeping secrets. Before she can, Nolan yells, “Why?!” from somewhere else in the station.

A few seconds later, he walks into the bullpen with Tim following closely behind him. Tim is talking, sternly and meanly, based on his stance. Nolan sees you and Bailey and quickens his pace.

“Bailey,” he begins.

“I know!” she replies. “They’re liars.”

“Why would you lie about that?” Nolan asks.

Tim steps to your side as you answer, “Technically, we didn’t lie. We answered your questions.”

“You just didn’t ask the right questions,” Tim agrees. “Which is part of your job, Nolan.”

“No, no, no. Don’t make this about me,” Nolan argues.

“Wait, so then are you going out again?” Bailey asks.

“And did you actually consider that to be a date? Enjoy it and everything?” Nolan adds.

Tim takes your hand as they continue asking questions, and you wave kindly to Angela as he leads you away. You smile as you follow him blindly. Once he has you away from the bullpen and the endless questions, he stops and pulls you close.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “I’ve been worried.”

“I’m sorry. I got called into a meeting to consult on a UC operation. Everything is confidential, so I couldn’t have my phone on me.”

“I’m not mad. I feel much better now that I know you’re okay.”

“It’s Friday,” he reminds you. “We have another date tonight.”

You nod, and Tim moves his hands, one on your waist and one on your jaw. He dips his chin and kisses you in the empty hallway, and you wonder what did it feel like to be miserable again?

[rainybubbles]

"Dance with me" + 141 x reader

Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Price

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

GAZ :

— Congratulations, Garrick, you whispered.

He barely heard you. Honestly, you doubted he even knew your name. Soldiers, especially those in special forces, rarely paid attention to the cooks unless they wanted an extra helping. At those times, flattery became almost a routine game.

But Kyle… Kyle had always been different.  

He was the only one who gave you a genuine smile when you served him. The only one who would chat with you, arrive early to help in the kitchen, and stay late to clean up.

Kyle had been there.  

In that endless cycle of meals, dawns, and dusks, he remained. So at the medal ceremony, you had hoped, just for once, to step into the light with him, to talk without the barrier of those ridiculous hairnets.

But Kyle was standing there, a companion on his arm, and suddenly, you felt utterly foolish.  

Where you had hoped for a slow dance, it turned out you were just tap-dancing alone.

So, after everyone else had offered their congratulations, you added your own, feeling a wave of shame wash over you, making you sweat. That knot in your stomach tightened as the lights grew blinding, every gaze seemed to pierce through you, and everything felt absurd.

You felt absurd.  

With that stupid outfit that was too tight, a tie that was too blue, shoes that were too shiny. Anxiety crept in and took hold, forcing you into an unwilling dance. Desperately, you tried to calm yourself, to find an escape, a place with fewer people. The door seemed so far away. Your vision blurred. And then…

Fresh air hit you.  

Finally outside, you sat down. Everything was swirling inside you. You wanted to cry. But you couldn’t even manage that, as your boss appeared.

— The caterer is late; get in the kitchen, we can’t ruin the evening.

So you resumed your dance: uniform, hairnet, apron, safety shoes. What you thought was a duet was clearly just a solo.  

Peeling carrots and chopping vegetables, you listened to the barked orders with the other kitchen staff.

The food was enough to satisfy everyone’s patience, and the caterer eventually arrived.

Alone, you scrubbed the floors.  

You were the only volunteer anyway. Searching for crumbs, cockroaches, or dirt, you scrubbed until your knees ached and bled.

— Aren’t you at the party?

Kyle was there. Of course.

— I was.

— Oh, I—

— Don’t worry about it. There were a lot of people, we probably just missed each other.

A lie.  

You had seen him, had even spoken to him. But to him, you hadn’t even existed.

— Yeah, I... Sorry they made you work.

— It’s fine. It’s a nice change from the usual rations.

— Yeah... I guess so.

An awkward silence fell between them, the first one they had ever shared.

— I feel like something’s off, admitted Gaz.

— Off? How do you mean?

— There’s this tension... Did I do something wrong?

No.  

You knew you couldn’t blame him; it was your own fault.

— No, nothing like that... How was the party? I mean, you’ll probably get promoted soon.

— It was nice. There was even a ball.

You knew that.  

You had gone there hoping for a dance.

— Really? Who did you dance with, Garrick?

— A childhood friend. I didn’t want to ask someone I didn’t know well.

Oh.  

So… you weren’t even considered a friend. Just an acquaintance.

— I hope they didn’t get too bored.

— They ended up in the infirmary.

— Oh, what happened?

— I… I’m a terrible dancer, and let’s just say my weight isn’t exactly light when it lands on a foot.

— You broke their foot?

— No, it’s not—

You burst out laughing.

— Stop making fun of me, he said, though he couldn’t help but smile.

— Sorry, but you can hit targets from a distance, and three steps are too much for you?

— I’m just not good at ballroom dancing.

— So what would you have preferred? The Macarena?

— Maybe.

— I can totally picture Price doing that.

He grinned.

— But… if I had been better at dancing, I would’ve asked someone else, anyway, he admitted.

— Asked them what?

— To go with me.

— Oh.

— I just didn’t want what happened tonight to happen, and then we wouldn’t talk anymore.

— They’d be silly to let that come between you.

— You think?

— Yeah.

— So… can I assume you’re not silly?

— Why are you—

Oh.  

— You wanted to invite me.

— Yeah.

— But…

— The dance was mandatory, and I didn’t want to embarrass you. I’d rather embarrass myself.

— Why didn’t you say anything…

— I didn’t have the chance.

— ...Well, I’m not sure I’m convinced. I mean… dating someone who can’t dance? you teased.

— I can do the Macarena.

— Go on, then.

And slowly, in the kitchen, with his phone blasting the tune, Kyle started dancing, and under their shared laughter, you realized this might just be the dance he preferred after all.

_______________________________

SOAP :

Soap gave you a slightly unsteady grin.

— I missed you, he murmured, his words slurred.

You shook your head, watching him struggle to redo his shoelaces with clumsy fingers.

— Johnny, you're drunk, you said, a glint of amusement in your eyes.

— Maybe… but I still missed you. Best roommate in the world.

— I'm the only one, you replied, laughing softly.

— That's why you're the best, he said, giving you a clumsy wink.

You handed him a glass of water, a gentle smile on your lips.

— Drink this, and I'll fix you something to eat.

— That’s why you're my favorite.

— How was your night? you asked as you busied yourself in the kitchen.

— L.T. dared me.

— And of course, you accepted.

— Naturally.

— And got your ass handed to you, didn't you?

— Hm, he mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He finally managed to sit down, struggling to stay upright.

— You know… I've never seen you dance, he said suddenly.

— What? you responded, surprised by the comment.

— I've never seen you dance. It’s a shame.

— I'm not really the type to go out dancing, you know that.

— Yeah… He thought for a moment, then added, We could dance right here, right now.

— And why would we do that? you asked with a curious smile.

— Because I want to see you differently. To feel you close to me.

— Johnny, you see me every day, you said, laughing softly.

— It’s not the same. This way, I could really see your eyes up close, smell your coconut shampoo…

— You already know all that, you replied gently.

— Yeah, but living it is different. I could touch you, feel your heartbeat, your hands on me… just you and me.

You looked at him for a moment, touched by his vulnerability.

— You’re really drunk, you murmured tenderly.

— Just one dance, he insisted, almost pleading.

— One dance?

He stood up with a bit of effort, swaying slightly but determined. He reached for your hands and pulled you close. The world around them seemed to blur into a haze.

Each step was awkward, each movement hesitant, but nothing could shatter the bubble they had created. To him, this was a precious, almost sacred moment.

As his eyelids grew heavy, he let himself relax into your arms, finding a sense of peace and contentment.

They shuffled in the confined space of the kitchen, their movements creating an unsteady rhythm that was as endearing as it was clumsy. You held him close, guiding his steps with a gentle hand on his back. The light of the overhead bulb cast a soft glow, illuminating the warmth of their shared moment.

The kitchen, usually bustling with the mundane tasks of everyday life, had transformed into a quiet, intimate space where time seemed to stand still.

The clatter of pots and pans was replaced by the gentle rustle of their clothing and the soft shuffle of their feet on the tiled floor. The contrast between the chaos of the night and this tender, private dance was stark but comforting.

Soap’s head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat that mirrored your own.

There was something deeply satisfying about this moment of stillness amidst the chaos.

His breathing, slow and steady, was a soothing reminder of their connection. The way he relaxed into you, his body melting against yours, spoke volumes more than words ever could.

As they continued to sway together, you could sense the vulnerability and trust in his movements.

His occasional missteps and the way he leaned into you for support only highlighted the depth of his feelings. Despite the awkwardness, there was an undeniable grace to their dance—a testament to their bond and the quiet understanding they shared.

— You’ll dance with me again, won’t you? he murmured, half-asleep.

— We’ll see tomorrow, you whispered, guiding him gently to the couch.

He collapsed from exhaustion, instantly drifting into a deep sleep, still wrapped in the memory of their dance.

As the first light of dawn began to creep through the window, you moved about the kitchen, preparing breakfast with a newfound sense of tranquility. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the gentle sizzle of food in the pan were soothing. You stole glances at Soap, who was still deep in sleep, his breathing even and calm. There was something deeply satisfying about this morning routine, a feeling of normalcy and peace that you hadn’t realized you’d missed

The comforting aroma of breakfast filled the kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of whiskey that still clung to the air. The contrast between the warmth of the kitchen and the cold light of dawn outside created a sense of cozy isolation. You moved with practiced ease, your actions steady and deliberate, a quiet testament to the care you took in your daily routines.

Eventually, Soap stirred, his eyes fluttering open with the kind of groggy confusion that only a hangover can bring. He squinted in the light, struggling to get his bearings. When he finally registered your presence, he gave you a tired, lopsided smile.

— What I said last night… I meant it, he murmured. And this time, you can’t say I’m drunk.

— Technically…

— Technically, I’d love to kiss you and ask for another dance.

— You stepped on my feet more than twenty times last night.

— I know…

— And you reeked of whiskey.

— …

— Not to mention your snoring that kept me up all night.

— Okay, so I’m not perfect…

— But despite all that, I enjoyed our dance.

— Really?

— Even if choosing Blue Da Ba Dee for a slow dance was a terrible idea.

— That was me?!

— Yep.

— Damn… Let me make it up to you, he said, dropping to his knees in front of you.

You laughed, amused by his dramatic gesture, then knelt down in front of him, running a gentle hand through his hair.

— Alright, one more dance.

— One more dance, he repeated, a smile spreading across his face.

___________________

GHOST : 

The room gradually fell into silence, despite the constant chatter of the journalists on the screen. No one was really paying attention to the news broadcast. Simon was staring at his still fresh cuts, watching the red darken to brown.

— Want to dance? he asked, finally breaking the silence.

You looked up, surprised, then let out a small laugh.

— Dance? Now?

— Yes, now.

He reached out his hand to you. You hesitated, then finally placed yours in his. Exhausted, you let yourself lean against him. Simon picked out a vinyl, and soft music filled the room as they swayed slowly from side to side. He felt your warm breath against his neck, your body seeking refuge in his arms. His hand, still trembling, held yours tightly.

— You’re stiff as a board, you murmured with a smile.

— I’m managing, he replied, slightly offended.

— It’s like you have two left feet. Relax a bit, you added, a playful grin on your lips.

Simon couldn't help but smile inwardly. He had missed that smile so much— the real one, the one that made your eyes sparkle and your dimples appear, a stark contrast to the hollow gaze he had seen recently.

— It’s all over, you whispered.

You wasn’t talking about the dance.

— Yes, it’s all over.

Neither was he.

— Will I ever be able to dance again? you asked, doubt creeping into your voice.

To love. To love again.

A few weeks ago, Simon had returned from a grueling mission, only to find your home surrounded by police. The sight of the flashing lights and the presence of uniformed officers had sent his mind spiraling into a whirlpool of fear and dread. He imagined the worst, his thoughts racing with the possibility that his desire to keep you close had ultimately endangered you. He had feared that, like so many others before you, you might have been irreparably damaged by his choices.

But…

Under the harsh, unforgiving lights of the police cars, he had found no body, no immediate evidence of a catastrophic event. Yet, when he had seen you amidst the broken glass and the wreckage of their lives, you were nothing more than a shadow of the vibrant person you once were. Your eyes were vacant, the walls bore the scars of a recent trauma, and the TV was stuck on a loop, replaying the same game over and over, as if it were mocking the endless cycle of their suffering. The word "Sorry" was scrawled repeatedly, a haunting echo of remorse and helplessness.

.

Simon had understood the weight of the moment. With a gentle hand, he had helped you up from the floor, guiding you through the aftermath with a steadfast determination. He had been by your side for every medical appointment, every police report, and every painful statement. His presence was a constant, unwavering support as they navigated the wreckage of their lives together. Gradually, they began to live together, two lost souls seeking something more as they danced together that night.

A home, a dream, a soul?

No, it seemed they were searching for something more elusive—a ghost of their former selves, the remnants of a life that once held promise and joy.

— I’ll be here for you, Simon said softly.

— Then you better improve your dancing, you retorted with a hint of teasing.

— I promise, he murmured.

If becoming a dance master was what it took to help you rediscover the rhythm of life, then he was willing to dance for you, over and over. For he knew that no day should be spent with a heart broken by another. As they continued to sway to the music, the simple act of dancing became a symbol of their shared commitment to healing and moving forward. It was a testament to their resilience and to the enduring hope that, despite the pain, they could still find solace and joy in each other’s arms.

______________

PRICE : 

The flames in the fireplace crackled softly, casting shadows across the now-empty room. The guests had left long ago. John approached you slowly, deliberately, sliding his arms around your waist. He took a deep breath, letting your unique scent—something distinctly you—fill his senses, anchoring him in the present moment. The weariness of the past two months seemed to melt away as he embraced you. Finally, he was home.

—Something on your mind?, you asked, a hint of amusement in your familiar tone. It was a sound he had missed—something about your tone always made him feel like everything would be alright.

—I missed our date, he replied, a trace of regret in his voice.

—You've been on a mission for two months, John. I didn’t expect you to show up every Friday night for our little routines, you said, your laughter soft and genuine, like a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. The light in your eyes, though, told him that you understood more than you let on.

—I could have tried.

—And how would that go? 'Hey guys, hold on a sec, I need to leave for a romantic date with my partner?"

—I'm sure I could’ve convinced them, he said with a smirk.

You burst out laughing, shaking your head.

—Maybe, but I doubt El Sinombre would have agreed.

—Probably not, he admitted, his tone softening as he pulled you closer, But I couldn’t give you those moments that are just for us.

—John, you sent me more than enough money; don't worry about that.

—That’s not the kind of moments I meant, he said gently, his fingers tracing light circles on your arms, the touch both tender and reassuring. His caress was a silent promise of the moments yet to come.

—Oh...

—I love our dates, all those little memories. I remember the day a stray dog pushed me into a pond, or the time you ended up with cream on your nose at the restaurant, He chuckled softly, the memory of those times clearly cherished.

—And which one’s your favorite?, you asked, turning to face him.

Their faces were just inches apart, their lips almost touching, but neither gave in to the temptation. It was a game, a silent challenge.

—Our wedding day, he finally said.

—That wasn’t a date, you replied with a playful smile.

—It was, on the dance floor.

—Oh, that moment...

You remembered how John had surprised you, revealing that he had secretly taken dance lessons for months. That slow dance had transported you, as if the whole world had disappeared, leaving just the two of them, their steps perfectly in sync, their love shining like a star.

—I can’t even remember the steps, you confessed softly.

—Let me remind you, he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. The intimacy of his voice and the proximity of his body sent a shiver down your spine, making the room feel even cozier.

With infinite tenderness, he gently took your hands, his rough fingers guiding you with a careful precision that spoke of countless hours spent perfecting their dance. As he began to lead you through each step, humming the tune from their wedding, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. A tender smile lit up your face, and you looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.

—I love you, you finally whispered.

—I love you too,he replied with a sincerity that warmed your heart.

Slowly, the lights around them seemed to dim, the room growing tranquil as the dance came to an end. They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, their hearts beating in harmony. The fire continued to crackle softly in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over them as the night settled into a peaceful calm. In that serene moment, surrounded by the remnants of their love and shared memories, they found solace in each other’s presence, cherishing the quiet beauty of their reunion.

If you want more : masterlist

[gaysindistress]

Limits of a Fae Heart - five

Pairings: Azriel x Reader Summary: With war looming over their heads, the Inner Circle is desperate for a solution. The one they found comes in the form of a resurrected female who’s fated to not only their Shadowsinger but once to their enemy as well. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: reader is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, sexual content (p in v), spitting but it's hot, choking, slight dom/sub vibes, I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor. One | two | three | four | six

taglist: @dr4g0ngirl @isa1b2h3 @sidthedollface2

Cassian has made it known several times that the tension between Azriel and I is getting on his nerves. He’s not so casually told us to get a room many times since the morning he interrupted us. It’s truly only been a couple of days but with just the three of us to keep each other company, we’re all starting to go a little mad. 

Then again watching an abandoned camp for days on end because your high lord said so would do that to anyone.

By the fourth day of watching and edging closer to the camp with absolutely nothing to show for it, Cassian approaches me as I’m sitting by the fire, trying to warm my stiff body. He plops himself down next to me and lets out a dramatic sigh as he leans back on his hands. I don’t spare him a glance and he lets out another sigh. I look over at him to see him already giving me a playful but annoyed look. 

“Yesss?” I ask as I stick my hands closer to the flames.

“When are we going to be done with this boring stake out? The camp has been abandoned for close to a week now and unless I’m blind, there’s no reason for us to be here anymore.”

“If you’re asking to go home, just ask.”

“Fine, can I go home? You and Azzie boy can stay here and stare lustfully at each other all you want but I would like to go home and have a proper bath.”

Right on cue, Azzie Boy materializes out of a pocket of shadows and glances between the two of us. A hint of jealous shots down the bond as he takes in how close Cassian and I are. It quickly disappears as Cassian scoots over with a loud huff. 

“Well what’s your answer?” he demands lightheartedly and an arched brow.

Azriel narrows his eyes at his brother and sits across from us, the flames illuminating every inch of his sun kissed face. 

“I planned on going into the camp tomorrow and if I found nothing, then we could leave but I think Azriel and I can handle it ourselves,” I say looking from Cassian to Azriel, who’s already staring at me. He was probably wondering what Cassian was referring to but realization relaxes his face and he nods in agreement. 

Cassian claps his hands together, “Alright it’s settled then. Don’t kill each other and I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

It’s almost pitiful how excited he is to return to Velaris but it’s even more pathetic how quickly he’s on his feet and flying away. 

Azriel leans back against the fallen tree that lays behind him and props one leg up as his shadows drop an apple into his awaiting palm. He’s purposely staying silent; baiting me to initiate conversation and toying with me by pulling out his beloved Truth Teller and using it to carve the red fruit with impressive precision.

His shadows dance around me meanwhile a few brave and handsy ones find their way under my sweater and undershirt and nuzzle against my bare skin. I gasp at their snuggly behavior and go to shake them out when his voice stops me. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

“What does that mean?”

He chuckles as he eats a piece of apple off of the truth teller. “They don’t like when you push them away. Puts them on edge and then they don’t listen to anyone.”

I don’t heed his warning and shake them out anyways, causing them to let out a sound akin to a growl. They immediately find their way back under my clothes and practically mold themselves to my body so I can’t get rid of them so easily again. 

“Told you.”

“By the cauldron,” I groan as I attempt to swat them away, “tell them to leave me alone. They’re freezing.”

He stops his carving and looks at me curiously, tilting his head to the side slightly as his hazel eyes rake over me. “And why would I do that? They’re perfectly fine where they’re at.”

I send him an annoyed glare before I climb to my feet and walk towards the tent for another night of restlessness.

“Where are you going, sweet girl?”

“What have I said about calling me that?”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with an intense gaze and an almost feral smirk.

“And where does it look like I’m going? To bed obviously,” I say in a clipped tone and gesture to the tent. 

“No you’re going to lay there and flop around until the crack of dawn. Come here.” The shadows imprinted onto me do their singer’s bidding and push me back towards him. 

“Excuse me!”

He cuts off what was inevitably going to be a tepid attempt at a lecture from me. “Enough of that. Come sit next to me.”

With the shadows wrapped tightly around me and pulling at me, I don’t exactly have a choice but follow their lead. They finally ease up when I’m sitting beside him, almost shoulder to shoulder and he offers me a slice of apple. 

“What’s that look for?” he asks when I look between him and the slice with a scrunched up expression.

“When did you become so commanding?”

“You have a problem with it?”

I roll my eyes at the way his plump lips are turned up in a smile and are parted to show off his perfect teeth. “I have a problem with males who think they can tell me what to do. You of all people should know that doesn’t go over well with me.”

“Maybe but I’m not just any other male now am I?”

“Yes you are.”

I go to take the slice but he pulls it away, clicking his tongue at me. “Open your mouth, pretty girl,” he murmurs to me and I know it’s a challenge designed to test my resolve.

The nickname and his low timbre sets something ablaze in me and I know I stand no chance in beating my him. His win comes in the form of my lips parting to allow the sticky sweet slice to greet my awaiting tongue. He tracks my every movement, intently watching as its juice wets my lips and my tongue cleans it up.

“It’s my job to anticipate people’s next move but you?” Azriel says with a shake of his head and goes back to carving pieces out of his half eaten apple. “Just when I think I have you figured out, you do the exact opposite of what I expected. It should frustrate me but it doesn’t. Why do you think that is, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you’re bad at your job,” jumps out with my breathy voice and he blinks at me with an arched brow. “Perhaps it’s for the better if you find a new profession or stop treating me like one of your targets. You’ll stop disappointing yourself that way.”

“Now I never said that it was disappointing.” he chides and grabs my chin when I try to look away from his soul blazing gaze, “It keeps me on my toes, never really knowing what you’re going to do.” 

“You really are like every other male; needing to be challenged but not enough to make you feel lesser. You all have this need to control.” I whisper and let my gaze fall to his lips briefly, “I’ve already told you and quite frankly shown you that I’m not one to fall in line because a pretty face told me to.”

He searches my face for a hint of humor as he holds me in place. Testing me, he leans into me and when I think he’s going to kiss me, I let my eyes flutter closed only for him to draw back. From beneath my lashes, I see a feral smirk break across his face. 

“You think I have a pretty face?”

“That’s what you took from that?”

“Answer the question.”

“You’re infuriating beautiful and I hate looking at…”

Azriel silences me with a hungry kiss, our hands desperately searching for something to hold onto as our tongues collide against each other and drink in the other’s sweet taste. His lips are soft as they slide against my own while his hands feel jagged tangling into my hair. Cold metal presses into my scalp and I can’t say that I’m surprised he didn’t drop his beloved truth teller when he launched himself at me.

My hands find their place on his chest and the nape of his neck, slowly making their way into his mess of dark waves. The soft noises that rumble through his chest when I tug at his hair emboldened me and I sharply pull, forcing him to let me lead.

He does for a moment. That is until he is shadows that are still wound around me, something I forgot about, trace over the raised lines of my hidden wings. A whimper falls from me and Azriel hungrily laps it up using his shadows to drag me into his lap. My arms wind around his neck while letting out a surprised noise when I feel his confined cock against me. We break away and that’s when I realize my breathing is so heavy that I’m almost panting but Azriel is no better. He tilts his head up again to playful nip at my bottom lip, trapping it between his teeth before letting it go and kissing the red mark on it.

I hear myself whine at the loss of his lips and heated touch but I can’t find it in myself to care. I’m slipping into the abyss of lust that is between us and pulling tight at our bond and it feels absolutely amazing. 

He’s growing cockier by the minute much to my dismay. “If you’re this flushed after a few kisses, I can’t imagine how you’d look after I’m done with you.”

With a flash of silver in the fire light, the truth teller is safely tucked away again and both of his hands come to grip my hips. He dips his head to plant wet kisses across my jaw and whispers against the supple skin of my neck, “but tell me, pretty girl, do you want that?”

Words feel pointless, coiled in my throat and morph into something else while they come out in the form of broken whines. 

“Come on, beautiful, use your words.”

I quietly mumble “yes” and let out a high pitched whine when he sucks a bruise over my pulse. He mumbles something like “good girl” as his shadows engulf us and my back hits the cold mat of my bed roll with him slotted between my legs. 

Azriel continues his attack on my neck and I lean my head to the side to grant him more access but not without teasing him. “Couldn’t walk ten feet?”

He runs his tongue up the column of my neck. “Are you complaining?” he shots back with a bold flick of his tongue of my ear lobe before taking it between his lips, sucking and nibbling on it. 

“N..no,” I try to say as my body shudders when he starts to roll his hips into mine. 

I vaguely hear his voice but I’m too caught up in the feeling of his clothed cock pressing into my core. A forceful grip on my jaw drags my attention to the male above me; his wings are flared behind him while his shadows dance around the room and curl against the both of us. Those gorgeous dark waves fall around his sculptured face and he gazes down at me with those hooded hazel eyes. 

“Keep talking to me, sweet girl. I want to hear you no matter what, understand?

I barely nod and it’s not good enough for him. He squeezes my cheeks and doubles down on his original question, “I said ‘keep talking’. I need you to tell me that you understand. That you’ll stop me if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes! Gods, yes Azriel I understand!” I moan out, already running out of patience as I arch my back and roll my hips into his, matching his pace as best as I can. 

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers before continuing his trail of blazing kisses down my neck.

I go to drag my hands down his neck but his shadows are quick to grab them and pin them above my head. He chuckles at my frustration and feeble attempts to pull my hands free as he sits back on his hunches.

With only the fire light from outside to illuminate the tent, Azriel looks like a god above me. The power that radiates off of him commands the flames to perfectly bathe every inch of his taunt and towering body. His blue siphons shimmer in the dim light, reflecting my own pathetic state back at me. If I could I would’ve turned over so I wouldn’t have to see the satisfaction on his face as he gazes down at me completely at his mercy. He makes a disapproving sound as he gently takes a leg in his hand, caressing my thigh and calf before stopping at my boots.

“You’re not going shy on me now are you, beautiful?” He murmurs against my ankle, kissing each inch he reveals as he tugs off my boot.

“Fuck you,” I choke out when more shadows join in. They replace his warm touch when he’s moved on, kneading where his hands once were and licking at the places his kisses have grown cold. Being so thoroughly surrounded by him is intoxicating and I find myself going dumb before he’s even touched me.

“Already doing that, sweetheart.”

Gods this fucking male.

Azriel repeats his actions with my other leg and moves to my pants next. We watch each other with half lidded eyes as he takes his time unlacing them and deliberately brushes his long fingers against the bare skin at my waist. When he starts the painstakingly slow motion of pulling them down my thighs, the damned shadows crawl up my torso. They drag his sweater and my thin long sleeve up my body, helping me to pull it off before tugging my bra down to shamelessly play with my breasts, groping and kneading at the tender skin.

The Shadowsinger’s eyes are blown wide, leaving only black in the place of the golden hazel as he watches them play with me. A long sinful moan is pulled from me when the shadows tug at my nipples and it seems to snap him back to reality. He pulls my pants off completely and inhales sharply when he sees the rapidly growing wet spot on my underwear. His eyes flutter closed as the scent of my arousal invades his nostrils and when they open, a fire is blazing in them. He looks devastatingly handsome staring at that spot like it’s the first glimpse of water he’s seen after weeks in the desert. 

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” he mumbles more to himself while he slides his hands up to my knees and lowers himself to lay on his stomach before me. Another pair of shadows wrap around my thighs, preventing them from closing when he lightly runs his fingers over my clothed core. I writhe and struggle against my restraints with a loud huff, halting the male between my legs. 

 “Talk to me, sweet girl,” he asks in an affectionate tone, searching my face as he rests his head against the inside of my thigh. The same soothing sensation strokes at our bond and my face flushes even more as I search for the words. “What do you want?”

Light kisses are littered on my thigh as I stutter, “more… I need more.”

“More what?” he asks, forcing me to say exactly what I want. As he speaks he les his warm and wet tongue drag across the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “More what?” he asks again with a mischievous smirk taunt on his bitten lips as he licks directly over my covered slit.

“Touch me more, Az please.” It feels terribly pathetic to beg him and I’d cover my face if the shadows weren’t tightening their hold on my wrists. 

My mate immediately drags his thick tongue over the thin fabric covering my core and mouthes at me through it. He circles my hole before flicking the tip of his tongue over my clit. Desperate please build in my chest while my brain turns to mush having him so close to where I need him but just out of reach. It’s beyond frustrating and he knows it, smirking and chuckling at me in my disheveled and starving state.

Whimpers and whines grow into loud pleas and sinfully wanton moans as he works his tongue over the soaked fabric. After about the fourth time he nearly touches my clit, I start to realize that my wordless begging isn’t going to spur him into removing the offending piece of clothing. He wants words but I won’t let myself beg again just yet.

So I try the bond, sending every ounce of lust and desire that I have down to him. His only reaction is a slight quiver of his wings and an airy chuckle against my core. 

“Nice try, sweetheart but that wasn’t what i told you to do. Remind me, what did I tell you?”

He’s completely stopped using his tongue and has moved to dragging his fingers up and down my slit.

I throw my head back with a growl at the loss of stimulation. My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing it to calm down so I can think straight. The shadows are quicker than me and stop any thinking I may have done with another harsh pinch to each nipple.

“Until you can tell me exactly what you need, I’m perfectly happy to keep bringing you to the edge over and over again.”

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. “Fuck me with your tongue, fingers, I don’t care. Just fucking get on with it already, Az.” 

“Now was that so hard?”

I go to snap at him however I’m cut short by him kissing the juncture of my thigh before he pulls my underwear to the side and lightly laps at my soaked folds. He starts slow, kitten licking and teasing me to gauge my reactions. With the shadows around my thighs, I don’t have a lot of range but I’m able to move my hips against his face enough to get some relief.

Azriel takes pity on me and his tongue, wide and rough, finds my clit the moment he licks a decisive strip up my core. His mouth becomes glued to me as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. That feeling in my lower stomach grows tighter when he sucks on my clit and pulls back to blow on it. Throwing my head back, moans fall unhindered and my hips start to move wildly against his mouth.

More shadows find their way around me, caressing and kneading everywhere they can touch. Some tangle into my hair, pulling at the strands while others grope my ass only adding to the bliss that is Azriel’s expert tongue working me into oblivion. 

He brings a hand up to let his fingers circle my hole, collecting my wetness before plunging two fingers in. He smirks against me after my hips falter and he slips his free arm under me, holding my hips up so he can bury his face into me even further. I whine and mewl as Azriel circles my clit and flicks it in time to the come hither motion he’s making with his fingers inside me.

“Az…Az, oh gods, I’m gonna..gonna cum,” I cry out. His shadows double down on their groping and massaging while he doesn’t let up eating me out like a man starved. He watches my orgasm crash over me through half lidded eyes and I try as best as I can to keep eye contact however my own eyes feel heavier than ever before. 

Azriel whispers words of reassurances and praises against my heated skin as he kisses his way back up to me. The shadows around my thighs loosen and draw light circles where their bruising grip once was. The ones on my wrists relax and caress the sore muscles from being held above my head.

“You did so well, sweet girl. So good for me,” he mumbles between labored breaths that mirror mine. I nod in agreement, cupping his face and pulling him down for a much slower kiss than before.

“So perfect, made for me…taking everything I give you,” he mutters against my lips. His wings shake out above us and mine feel like they’re about to do the same when one of the shadows dances over where they’re melding into my body.

He lets his body settle against me, once again letting his hips press into mine but now it’s unbearable. Im still sensitive and the feeling of his leather covered cock against me drags broken sobs from my chest. Like the teasing male he is, Azriel shushes me against my lips as one of his hands finds my thigh and urges my leg over his hip. With my leg around his waist, he moves us at a pace that makes us both moan into our kiss. He drops his hand next to my head while the other comes to rest on my throat, tilting my head back when he pulls away and drags his thumb over my puffy bottom lip.

“Such a pretty mouth,” he growls, staring lustfully at the way that my tongue swirls around the tip of his thumb. I suck at it and he pushes between my lips, allowing me to work it with my tongue like I would his cock. His eyes darken when I release it with a pop and a string of saliva connects us.

A heavy weight constricts my chest and pushes all of the air out of breath thanks to the tsunami of burning desire that Azriel sends to me. “Open up, sweet girl.” 

With our hips grinding slowing down and moving into a lazy, occasional jolt of pleasure, I obey. Without being told, I rest my tongue on my bottom lip, a silent agreement to what he’s about to do.

Azriel’s cock twitches against me as he spits into my mouth and I swallow it with a satisfied smirk. He curses under his breath and his cock twitches again.

And this is when we find ourselves in a rather unfortunate situation; he’s fully clothed while I’m bare save for my bra that’s been pulled under my breasts.

My pawing at his chest gives him the hint and he leans back to quickly rid himself of his leathers while his shadows keep me entertained. They flick and pinch at my pebbled nipples while sneaking down to rub me through my underwear.

The moment his clothes are off, I push myself up and climb into his lap to wrap myself around him. I kiss him like he’s the air that I need and he matches me in pace and passion.

Droplets of sweat race down his broad tattooed chest and his hair is messy and tangled. His arms, perfect matches to his chest, broad, muscular and tattooed are wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he ruts into me. He rocks his aching cock against my barely covered puffy and oversensitive clit while we devour one and other. His breath hitches in his throat when I grind down on him and my nails scrap against the base of his wings. 

“Do…do that again,” he whimpers into our kiss and I happily oblige.

I start with lightly dragging my nails against the base again before moving up the ridge of his wings. The barely there touch is enough to make him groan out and break our kiss to throw his head back in pleasure. I take my chance to assault his neck with my own kisses and bites when I repeat the motions to his wings. His hips stutter under me as my delicate touch combined with the hardness of his aching cock become too overwhelming.

Azriel groans out, frustrated that there’s still a layer of thin fabric separating us and seconds later, I feel the cold tip of the truth teller slice through my underwear. His shadows remove them from between us while he holds my hips in a bruising grip to rub my wetness against him. Back and forth, he drags the head of his cock through my folds, stealing desperate moans from my swollen lips. 

“Az,” I whine as I feel his thick tip catch against my clit, “please Az.”

He coos to me as if he’s being sweet as he continues to torture me. “Please what, sweet girl?”

“Fuck me Azriel,” comes out in broken sobs when he lines himself up and snaps his hips up, fully sheathing his thick cock in my warm heat. He waits for me to adjust to his size, only moving when I wiggle against him. He sets a brutal pace, fucking up into me in calculated and determined thrusts. The near painful hold he had on me is grounding as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure starts to build into a second orgasm.

He pulls out only to guide me lay on my side to the bed roll and drags me against his chest, slipping in from behind. Wrapping one heavily tattooed muscular arm around my neck, he lets the other come to wrap around my middle and play with my puffy clit. The corded muscles are flexing as he holds me in place against him, ensuring that I have no choice but to take his thick cock. 

“I want everyone in Velaris to hear you,” he grunts against my ear as he sets a cruel pace from behind me. Downright sinful sounds fall from my permanently open mouth and his own beautiful sounds fill my ears when my core throbs and clenches around him.

“You can be louder, pretty girl,” he urges me while tightening his already unyielding grip around my neck. My hands sink into his arm, leaving red marks in their wake as I cry out, body trembling and writhing against him.

I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a painful way and my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure it brings me. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to come with me. 

“Shush, pretty girl. Let me take care of you. Come for me, beautiful. I know you need to,” his breath feels like an inferno in my ear and I involuntarily moan at his praise. I know I can’t possibly be seen as anything other than a mess; tears streak my face and sweat collects in my hairline but none of that stops Azriel, my mate, from praising every inch of me. 

The last sharp thrust and caress of his tongue against my neck are what push me over the edge as my hands dig into his arm. His own release is almost upon him as his thrusts falter and he goes to pull out but my hand darts behind me and grips his hip.

“Come…with me.”

A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest, “you want me to come in you, pretty girl? You want me to mark you with my cum? Make it so every male who ever comes near you smells me? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, gods yes yes…please…come with me…please come in me.”

My begging sparks him to snap his hips even harder than before as he works us through our orgasms together. Both sweet and humiliating words continue to pour from his mouth between his kisses as he alternates between licking and biting at my lips. His arm loosens around my neck and shifts to cup my shoulder instead while the other grasps my hip.

“You did so well, sweet girl. So proud of you, took me so well,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face into my neck while our highs start to come down and our breathing slows. Finally our bond feels content; overjoyed that we are together and basking in the raw affection we have for each other.

I know that there is a part of it that won’t be satisfied until we accept it, until I accept him and offer him a meal that I made just for him. 

My heart skips a beat when that thought crosses my mind however this time it’s out of panic. What if’s and past traumas flash in my mind, no doubt flooding the bond with seemingly unwarranted anxiety. 

I try to pull away from Azriel but he holds me as he whispers softly from behind me, “Stay with me, my sweet girl. You’re crashing and you need affection right now. Let me help you through it.”

Panic sinks its talons into me even further, causing my heart to race, my breathing to grow too fast, the feeling of slipping into thick water without a way out to overcome. Tears spring from my eyes again and his voice sounds muffled even though it’s right next to me. 

“Breath with me.” His chest rises and falls against my back and my body falls into sync with it. The bond fills me with nothing but adoration and pure contentment, pushing away the crashing low I had begun to slip into.

“Good, just follow my breathing, just like that. You did so well, I’m so proud of you. Keep breathing with me and let me take care of you, beautiful. Let me give you the affection you need.”

For the first time ever in my life possibly, I feel safe. I feel safe in the arms of this mysterious Shadowsinger. I feel protected, cared for, and loved by Azriel, my mate.

[imsosleepyofyourbull]

I’m miserable at the knowledge that Gotoge contrasted everything about Zenitsu and Tengen on the surface — the loser crybaby demon slayer with seven ex girlfriends vs. the flashy Hashira with three loving wives — before connecting them with their breathing and their music and their hearing, only to do basically nothing with it. Are you kidding me? Could you imagine a world where Zenitsu and Tengen actually get to talk?

Because Tengen loves his wives and his friends, but they physically cannot understand what it’s like for him to step into a quiet room and still be able to hear every secret around him. To be seen as a sneak or a spy even more than he already is for his shinobi heritage, for a biological factor he can’t control no matter how hard he tries. Or to find music in the sound of the crowd’s blood, heartbeats, and very souls while being unable to share it with anyone unless he transcribes it.

Zenitsu embodies it.

He is absolutely terrified of it, hearing danger that nobody else can sense until minutes after he’s already become aware and forced to contend with the knowledge that he will also be the first to know when someone has died. How many times did he hear a heart stop beating when he was out on the streets as a child? How many times did he hear his allies’ bones and organs break or rupture in their bodies on a mission? How many times has he heard his own? It’s futile to count, but both he and Tengen know what it’s like to be that person.

And I can’t help but think that Tengen would be excited about their connection in a way that Zenitsu can’t be — he’s older, more experienced, and more confident in himself. There’s no doubt that he stopped thinking of his hearing as just a curse a long time ago, and he probably found a way to have fun with it in his music. But that also means that he’s been searching for someone who would know what he was talking about for even longer than Zenitsu. He’d jump at the opportunity the second it arose, because Zenitsu might want to run and Zenitsu might not be willing to hear what connects them… but Tengen can. And he’s not about to let that go over some petty whining.

So he decides to make the boy his student (maybe even his Tsugoku) and begins training him on everything he’s learned about his own hearing over the years. It’s like every step they take forward in building a proper teacher-student relationship is immediately offset by another five steps back. Zenitsu rejects the connection entirely because, at his core, he can’t imagine himself being comparing to Tengen — to the physical embodiment of everything he wants to be and doesn’t think that he can’t. So he shoves more broken chords into their shared symphony than actually fit and his anxiety becomes a constant shadow on the harmony of their song.

It grows distorted from both his intentional and unintentional self-destruction just as much as it does from Tengen’s own frustration. It gets worse and worse and worse, until there’s nowhere for it go anymore; until Tengen unintentionally insults Jigoro for being irresponsible and letting Zenitsu go to Final Selection with only one technique.

It will be the first and one of the only times that he gets to see become Zenitsu genuinely furious.

Because Zenitsu’s relationship with Tengen here is in the same vein as his relationship to Kaigaku in canon — he hates and respects and fears the sound hashira in equal measure. And it’s that last thing that really matters, because Zenitsu’s rage blinds him to the feeling of fear where it becomes all that Tengen can hear in his sound. The image of himself as a child reflected in a little blond boy who didn’t want to train with him (with his father) but did it anyway. Tengen’s wives have to separate them soon enough, and everyone decides that trying again isn’t a good idea.

So they take a break. A long one. Long enough that Zenitsu assumes that his apprenticeship is finally over and he can go back to whoever he was before this mess. He’s wrong, of course, because Tengen knocks on his door the very next day and they go all the way back to the Uzui Estate to try something new. They go to Tengen’s music room, filled to the brim with instruments more expensive than Zenitsu has ever seen, let alone gotten to touch, and they spend the night playing whatever they feel like. Because they’d always known each other by their sounds better than they had their words, and trying to force the latter was their first mistake. They knew better, now.

Music night becomes their ritual. After training, they air out their frustrations with song after song in a conversation only they’ll ever understand. Not a thing spoken. And, eventually, they won’t have to speak at all. Zenitsu once explained that when he tried hard enough, he could hear people’s thoughts instead of just their feelings.

What would it be like for him to not have to try at all with Tengen?

(What would it be like for him to have a mentor in the only other person who would understand?)

[serafilms]

song 17! cupid (fifty fifty) + tim drake (spotify wrapped event)

i’m feeling lonely, oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me, now i’m crying in my room, so skeptical of love, but still i want it more, more, more

You’ve reached a certain point where you think you’re going to die alone. Call it the overwhelming anxiety, paranoia, being surrounded by happy couples syndrome, or whatever you want, but none of it excuses the fact that in all your years of life, hardly anyone has even glanced your way.

Perhaps you’re just blind to their stares, like how pigeons can only see out the sides of their heads, but never what’s sitting right in front of them.

“Or maybe I’m just a loser,” you mutter under your breath.

You slam your book shut, having spent the last 10 minutes reading and rereading the same line without absorbing it, as your mind was preoccupied with wallowing in your misery.

Distractions are no help. There is quite literally nothing for you to do now except lie down and accept your fate. And maybe get some sleep.

Standing from your desk, you look around and take a moment to open the window.

Cold, fresh air.

Then, you take a step towards your bed and collapse face first into the pillow, letting out an agonising groan that comes out muffled.

“Wow, that doesn’t sound good.”

The first reaction you have upon hearing the voice is to scramble up and promptly fall on the floor. Rubbing your bruised tailbone, you stare incredulously at the open window, where there is a guy dressed up in a weird, red getup with a cape and a mask over his eyes.

“Red Robin?”

He grins at you as he slips through the window and looks around your room, wasting no time in going to your shelf to snoop through your things.

“That’s me," Red Robin replies, tilting his head at a picture frame. You leap out of bed at record speed to snatch it out of his hands.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Clutching it protectively to your chest, you shoot him an incredulous look then glance down at the picture. It's one of you and your friend, Tim, at your high school graduation. You set it down on your bedside table quickly, and cross your arms as you turn to glare at the vigilante in your room.

"What are you doing here?"

He glances away from your shelf for a moment, taking in the way that you've awkwardly shuffled to the edge of your bed away from him, then shrugs. "Just stopping by for a visit."

Brows knitting together, you frown. "Okay, let me rephrase. Why are you in my room?"

Red Robin pauses, his eyes flitting towards the picture frame you've set aside.

It's been silent for a little too long now, so you speak up again. "Like, is this some kind of interrogation? Because I swear, whatever crime you think I'm involved in, I don't know anything about it. Unless it's about my chem prof cooking meth. But even then! All I know is rumours!"

He looks at you, amused, and you feel fear building up in your stomach. Is this some sort of technique? You did see a video about how the best way to get someone to tell you a secret is to stay silent and wait for them to spill. You suppose you've just given him exactly what he wants.

Red Robin takes a step towards you and you stumble back into your bedside table.

"This isn't an interrogation," he chuckles, "I'm just checking in.”

Why would he check in on you, of all the people in Gotham?

You sniff. “I’m perfectly fine.”

You can’t see his eyes or eyebrows under the mask, but you assume they’re raised in skepticism.

“I heard you groaning from outside, you know.”

Dead silence. Your neck heats up.

“Oh, right … that …”

The vigilante says nothing; he just watches as you dart your eyes around the room, looking at anything but him.

You feel the need to say more and fill the silence. “Yeah, uh, I was just … having a moment.” He stares at you. “Loneliness. Relationship troubles.”

Damn it, now he’s using that tactic on you.

Red Robin clears his throat. “Ah, I see.”

Do your eyes deceive you or is he blushing?

“Yeah, that’s a tough one. Um.” He starts to back up a little, eyes flitting between you and the space behind you. “Well, you know, it’ll get better. You’ll find someone. Uh, I should probably get back to patrol.”

The vibe just got really weird, you think.

You watch in confusion as he takes tiny steps backward towards the window. He tosses a red business card towards you that lands somewhere halfway in between. “Well, shoot me a text later and I’ll try and help with that. It’s my duty as a hero, you know, haha.”

You blink. “Okay?”

He’s halfway out the window when he looks back and clears his throat. “Sometimes, the right person might be right under your nose. Or behind you.” He gestures vaguely behind you and makes a quick exit.

You’re not quite able to process what just happened. Behind you? Turning around, your eyes focus on the picture. The one of you and Tim. You frown. The right person. What was he on about?

You place the picture down and snatch up the business card instead. There’s a picture of his symbol in the centre, and a mobile number on the back. Maybe you’d have to text him and ask.

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 6)

🌊 THANK YOU to all my 150 followers! Sorry, I didn’t get to draw an illustration this week BUT the wonderful @oskidontle had blessed me with this lovely fanart of Mer!Pim (thank you again), Please follow them and check out their own awesome Smiling Mermaids AU!✨

Charlie and Mipnessa got along swimmingly enough for two people who just met each other that day…unless, Charlie pondered, if they just-so happen to have already met! Charlie took note of how Mipnessa vaguely resembled the mystery person of whom he recalled rescuing him that morning…and while he wasn’t quite sure at first, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and potentially refresh her memory; He also had a string gut feeling that it wouldn’t be wise to potentially out her as one of the elusive merfolk out of politeness….if not being proven wrong and labeled as a silly-hearted daydream-believer. Charlie ran back to his quarters to swipe the green cloak that was left behind to gently fold it up, then he started rummaging through his closet for a perfectly-sized decorative shoebox to place inside of as a grandiose gesture to Mipnessa before running back to bequeath the gift. “Y’know I have a funny hunch that this is something you’d totally look great in.” The flattered Mipnessa giggled in response: “Showering me with gifts already? You must take a fancy to me.” Feeling overwhelmed with butterflies in his stomach, Charlie blushed with a nervous grin. Mipnessa opened the box and held up the cloak, while she admired the deep emerald green shade, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what fabric was used for it or could she figure out why it smelled like the brine of clam chowder. “It’s beautiful, and it matches my dress way better than the shawl I’m wearing too.” Charlie replied with a fairly obvious double-meaning: “A match made in heaven.” as he held her hand and proposed: “Perfect for an atmospheric afternoon-to-evening stroll, lemme show you to the outskirts of the palace, the sunset views are amazing out there!”

Meanwhile, Alan had just caught up with the rest of the party as an eagerly-lovestruck Pim alongside a curious Glep followed Graham Nelly to the crisp shore nearby Prince Charlie’s castle. “I can’t wait to see his cute face again!” Pim squealed in delight while fidgeting his hands, Alan sternly reminded him with a business-like tone to mask his anxiety: “We’re here to fetch back your cloak, so that nobody could recognize you and drag you back to that toxic, discourse-infested mess of a palace; We also really shouldn’t stay up here for too long lest we want to be some crazed stowaway’s four-course meal.” Pim’s glee briefly turned into annoyance as he was tempted to roll his eyes at his paranoid friend’s repetitive jargon had it not been for the fact that unlike his family, Alan’s “survival mode”-demeanor was out of genuine concern and love rather than blind bigotry over land folk. When the group made it to their destination, they would come to find that much to their surprise, Charlie was indeed out-and-about, bringing an unexpected guest with him for a neat little walk by the sparkling sapphire waves. While the party of sea critters hid behind the conveniently large rock while observing the scene from a far, they all quickly took notice that the lady accompanying Charlie was wearing an accessory all too familiar to Pim, who shook his head in disbelief before taking another look to find that Charlie was clearly flirting with with her as well. While Alan started discussing a plan to swipe the cloak with Graham, Glep took notice how his buddy Pim was doing. “My cloak…” Pim quietly uttered while overwhelmed with a flurry of mixed emotions, flashing between shock, confusion, hurt feelings and jealously all boiling down into unbridled fury. Glep never saw Pim this angry since that time he was just a teenager and his sister Amy tore the lock on his diary and blurted out all his secrets, including who he was crushing on at the time. Something REALLY must have struck a cord with the usually understanding and compassionate mercritter…

Graham proposed: “We could, like, wrangle a bunch of dolphins together to create a huuuuge wave and splash it right on her so that Prince guy can offer to hang it up for her and when they leave we can snag it from a clothes line, concrete plan!” Alan argued in a snippy-yet-monotone inflection: “Yeah but there’s no clothes line anywhere near water, besides, it would take us all night to achieve that plan anyways.” Graham then got another bright idea: “I know JUST the thing, dude. I have in my collection and it’s this neat tool called a grappling hook! It’s what land folks use to retrieve items from far-away.“ Alan rolled his eyes with an exasperated yawn. “Oh really? Go off I guess.” Graham happily explained: “It’s this long-ass stick with a string attached and at the end of the string it’s a hook! and you toss it far enough and the hook catches-“ he was cut off by a loud, panicked gasp from the horrified Alan, who furiously chided Graham while using his claws as gestures to express his disgust: “You keep a literal weapon used for catching and eating our kind?!! What in Davy Jones’ locker is the matter with you?!” Graham casually shrugged, replying: “I’ve only ever seen something like this being used to catch fish only to throw them back, like they kept catching fish but it’s obvious that she was trying to retrieve something she lost down there.” Alan stood there dumbfounded with his left eye twitching for a few seconds, until he broke silence with a sigh with one claw on his face, “Look, It would just be easier for one of us to sneak up to that lady and quietly snag the cloak away from her.” Graham cheered: “That’s it!” Alan realized exactly what he had in mind and groaned: “Alright, I understand now that I have to put my big-boy shell on.” Glep piped up: “Eskewazebewaboyo!”, Pim’s face perked up at the suggestion. Graham agreed: “Hell yeah! They’ll be too distracted to notice Alan, they’ll be all like: Oh, where is that heavenly sound coming from? Ha! It’ll be a synch!” Alan gulped, “Well, here goes nothing.”

During the conversions Charlie ignited while subtly prying for clues, he had realized that Mipnessa wasn’t the mystery critter. First off, she knew how to swim but preferred to go sailing over swimming. Second she does sing but her voice was rather different from what he had in mind BUT she did play the lute well. Lastly and most glaringly obvious of all was that she had just embarked on Eustace’s ship at the same time the rescue took place and was still miles away from Gremblonia. That being said, Charlie was perfectly content with having Mipnessa as a bride, she may have not been an exotic dream girl but she was a charmingly meek and proper lady whose lute could harmonize well with his ocarina! “You know Mipnessa, I could take you sailing on our ship and go on one of my wild adventures out at sea, maybe we’ll take on a kraken or get into a gang fight with pirates.” Charlie proposed in a suave tone, in response Mipnessa sheepishly loosened up the green cloak ‘round her shoulders, replying: “…y’know, maybe I would like that.” for a brief moment that felt like forever, the two locked eyes and gazed at each other’s presence for what felt like forever. As the sunset started melting into nighttime, the most angelic voice made it’s way to the couple’s eardrums, snapping them out of their trance. Charlie started running around frantically looking for the sound as Mipnessa’s curiosity peaked, joining him as she didn’t pay any mind to Alan’s pincer clinging onto the cloak slipping off of her shoulders. Once the cloak was freed from Mipnessa’s grasp, Alan scurried back fast he could before they’d notice. Meanwhile back behind “home base”, Pim peaking behind as he vocalized his feelings with a warm, sweet a capella with a noticeable tang of seductive amour and just a hint of bitter jealousy; This was Pim’s subtly, classy way of saying out-loud: “That boy is MINE, you got nothing on me you basic bitch!!”. Just as Alan made it to just inches away from water, the lobster tripped on a pebble and got tangled up in the shawl and tried to wriggle his way out. Pim took notice, stopped what he was doing and immediately swam to the scene to finish the job.

Just then Mipnessa realized something was missing. “Oh dear, my cloak!” Charlie blushed upon seeing Mipnessa’s curvy frame accentuated by her sleeveless dress, but quickly snapped out of it. “D-don’t worry, it’s probably back where we left off.” Charlie stumbled back to where he and Mipnessa where viewing the sunset, what he discovered was more than just the cloak itself: it was none other than the mystery critter who rescued him, half-submerged in water while clad in a seashell bra, freeing what looked like a lobster that somehow got trapped inside before taking back what was rightfully theirs. Charlie stood there and froze in shock, asking himself if he was just seeing things or he was trapped in some sort of dream, as he rubbed his eyes in disbelief, the mystery critter already vanished. A tinge of guilt filled Charlie’s heart, as he wished he could have apologized for giving her cloak away, but his thoughts broke as Mipnessa was calling for him to return. Charlie ran back and tried to explain what happened but all that came out was nervous gibberish that Mipnessa initially assumed was Spammish, until he blurted: “Damn lobster made off with the cloak!!” while shaking his fist. Mipnessa giggled: “Duke Eustace was right, you are a washed-up mess of a boy!” Charlie once again froze, embarrassed, until she nudged him a with a smile and reassurance: “At least you’re not some stuck-up old prune.”

~ Damien (and the rest of the search party) spent two days looking for Pim with a nagging conscience, he swore to Neptune if he found his littlest sibling, he’d work hard on being a better brother overall. Ironically, he found a patch of sea flowers to rest upon for the night, just as he was about to lie down he saw a short, cloaked figure picking the flowers, presumably for herbal use. “Pimberly, is that you?!” All he got in response was the laughter belonging to an elderly-sounding sea critter. “Oh deary, I’m afraid I’m not the lost Princess, I’m just an old botanist making medicine.” Damien’s heart sank, his pink skin turning grey at the reveal. “But, I have seen Princess Pimberly ‘round these corners.” Damien’s eyes widened with relief, begging: “Please, tell me where!” The old wisenheimer gave a concerning hint: “I’ve seen the Princess swimming in-and-out of this grotto hauling a satchel full of the most WORTHLESS crap!” Damien pressed for more answers: “So, where is this grotto?”

🐚

Chapter 7 Coming August 9th

[silencedrowns]

hi I’m a very long time cosplayer (20+ years experience) who has chronic headache and migraine problems and this is a post about how to prevent your cosplay wigs from giving you painful headaches! Nobody likes wandering around the con in blinding pain and so hopefully this post will help you reduce the chances of this happening.

1. If your wig is way too tight, don’t use it. Get something with a bigger cap. tbh I often wear slightly too big wigs to reduce the pressure! Find out what brands and sellers sell wigs that are comfy on your head and prioritize buying wigs from them! I made a big master list of cosplay wig sellers a while back so here’s a few you might not have known about. Arda (and its Canadian and European sites) sells by far the biggest wigs, but I personally find Classe the most comfortable for my specific head. It’s all very YMMV and it’s totally possible for a wig to not actually be too small but fit your head in an uncomfortable way (Blue Beard on taobao does this to me every time), so just don’t buy from suppliers that do that. Also consider resizing wigs to be larger! For wig clients with extra large heads I like to nip the edge of the wig right behind the ear where your ear and hair from above will cover it and add in a little godet of elastic.

2. Reduce weight! A heavy wig will make head pain much more likely, so here’s a few tips on wig weight reduction!

A) if your wig doesn’t need a ton of volume and is already very dense, rip out some wefts in the bottom half. Anything on the part of your head from the ridge where your head starts going in towards your neck won’t really show unless your wig is very short and it’ll obviously reduce weight instantly! You can replace any missing volume with light crimping or light heat and tease, or leave the wig as is for a natural and silky look without the unnatural volume of a cosplay wig.

B) if you need more volume in your wig, instead of going straight to adding wefts for more volume, see first if combining crimping with heat and tease at the roots will give you the extra volume you need! Crimping or heat and tease adds volume and if you straight up destroy the fiber in the first two inches from the scalp by doing both repeatedly, it’ll add huge volume without you needing to add extra hair! When I do this I like to heat the fiber near the roots, tease it, let it cool, crimp the teased part, let THAT cool, and then brush it out. You can flat out double the perceived volume in the back of the wig this way!

C) if your character has a high ponytail or high pigtails, consider using clip on ponytails that you can easily remove if you need the weight off your head right the fuck now. here’s two tutorials I swear by for making a short wig + clip on combination look more natural! They’re in Japanese but easily comprehensible if you use machine translation thanks to the clear photography. They also help with spreading out the weight on the wig itself, and if your hair is long enough, using a clip on with a fishnet wig cap and clipping through the wig and into your real hair will also he lp make it more secure and distribute weight more evenly.

if your character has high pigtails

if your character has a high ponytail

D) when you need extra wefts, opt for sewing in wefts rather than gluing whenever possible. Glue doesn’t seem heavy but enough of it can make a wig get real heavy REAL fast.

E) redirecting the weight to your entire head and not just the front hairline will feel lighter and give you less forehead tension, which is one of the biggest causes of wig headache. Toupee clips sewn evenly around the edges and a Wig Fix https://therenatural.com (the name brand one, the knockoffs genuinely don’t work half as well) can help with doing this. A Wig Fix will also let you use fewer pins to keep your wig on, which is another cause of wig headache. Can’t suggest trying those enough. There are also some velvet wig grips out there but I find those don’t work quite as well, but they’re by far better than nothing.

3) make sure your wig is easy to remove. A lot of characters have horns or veils or other head things on top of the wig so make sure those can easily come off if you need a wig break! I’m a big proponent of using wig glue or double stick tape to glue strands (face framing layers etc) to your face for a more natural and more flattering look, but if you get headaches from wigs, keep that glue or tape in your bag so if you have to de-wig for a bit, you can get it back on!

4) take the ibuprofen or whatever BEFORE you put the wig on, and not when your wig is already making your head miserable! It’s like taking the ibuprofen before you wear the horrible shoes for a special event; it’s more effective in advance.

5) what are your normal headache triggers? Make sure you’re doing the work to EXTRA avoid them before wearing a cosplay wig. Stay hydrated. Keep up with your electrolytes. If you have any food triggers, make sure you’re managing them properly.

6) try multiple types of wig cap before deciding which ones to use! I’m a big fan of the fishnet kind because I’m in agony every time I try to use the stocking kind. Some people find relief in doing pin curls under their cap, and @/battleangelgif on twitter suggested doing this with damp hair the night before you wear the wig. There are tons of methods! Stretching out fishnet caps can be done more effectively when they’re slightly damp and that’ll make them pinch less. Experiment with what you like best to keep your irl hair in place and once you find a method you like, go for it! Make that your go-to!

7) always remember: wearing a short wig is less miserable than wearing a wig to your ankles. consider very carefully whether or not you can actually handle that wig that’s as long as you are tall. sometimes you just can’t and that’s okay! reduce the length of any super long haired character to hip length and it’ll be FINE. I swear. It’ll still read as super long and it won’t be as terrible.

8) always remember you can just. take the entire wig and cosplay off if you’re in agony. it’s not worth it. don’t do that to yourself. If the migraine hits anyway, just take it off.

Hope some of this might help you out! Focusing on reducing and redistributing weight is what helps me out the most 😌 feel free to reply or reblog or message with questions and I’ll try and get back to you ASAP!

[kpopfanfictrash]

Love to Hate (Extra Scene III: Jungkook’s POV)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Author’s Note: This scene takes place during Chapter 7 of Love to Hate and is told from Jungkook’s point of view. PLEASE READ THE ENTIRE STORY BEFORE READING THIS SCENE (otherwise there will be spoilers lol).

Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: semi-public sex, breast play, fingering, dirty talk (hypothetical cum play, possessiveness), spanking, multiple orgasms, somewhat rough sex

Word Count:  8,704

“If this trend were to continue, I’m not certain how we could keep up with production. This would obviously pose a problem for our shareholders, so let’s brainstorm solutions before the next quarterly call. Does that work for you, Mr. Jeon?”

A long, pregnant pause.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Beneath the table, Namjoon gives a not-so-subtle kick to Jungkook’s kneecap. Jerking upright, Jungkook glances around to cover his recent lapse. Based on Namjoon’s glare, his attempt must not pass muster.

“I – yes.” Jungkook nods, hoping he hasn’t agreed to something terrible. “That works for me. Thank you.”

The woman pauses, clearly unused to being thanked by the CEO. “Of course, Mr. Jeon,” she says, recovering quickly to take her seat.

Fingers tapping the acrylic table, Jungkook glances as covertly as he can at the clock. A wave of panic washes over him when he realizes the meeting has nearly ended since Jungkook doesn’t remember a single discussion. Unusual, for a man who insists on booking his own travel because he doesn’t trust anyone else to find the best deal.

It’s not like Jungkook to be distracted, or to not pay attention to detail. A swift glance at his notebook proves equally damning. Usually, Jungkook takes careful notes but today, the only thing written is the date at the header.

Subtly, Jungkook straightens. Forcing himself to concentrate, he listens to the rest of the updates. Someone from Info Security briefs Jungkook on a new phishing attack. A woman from Finance updates them on the search for a new travel vendor. Jungkook listens closely, responding when needed but can feel Namjoon’s gaze on his cheek the rest of the meeting.

Knowing his COO, Namjoon has some thoughts about Jungkook drifting off. It’s for this reason that Jungkook hangs back once the meeting has finished. Namjoon also stays, waiting until the last person files out before swiveling sideways, exhaling in a way which implies years of exhaustion.

“Tissue?” Jungkook offers blithely.

Namjoon fixes him with a look. “No, thanks. What’s going on?”

“I’m… not sure what you mean.”

Brows lifted, Namjoon pushes himself to stand. “Yes, you do.” Lifting his laptop, he walks around the table. “For weeks now, you’ve been distracted. Years of planning and here we are, in the home stretch but somehow, it feels like I’m alone. Tell me what’s going on – and don’t,” Namjoon adds, a note of warning to his voice, “say this is all in my head.”

Jungkook closes his mouth, about to say just that. 

Sinking into his seat, Jungkook searches for a response because Namjoon is right. Something has been going on and Jungkook has been distracted. Ever since the dinner at Aleve, Jungkook hasn’t been himself. Realizing his fingers have resumed tapping the table, Jungkook forces himself to stop.

Two weeks have passed since he last spoke to you at Aleve. Two weeks of pretending neither of you cares about the other. Unless you really don’t care, and Jungkook is the only one who’s pretending.

Thoughts souring, Jungkook considers the possibility. Fighting the tide of memory is useless – as soon he thinks of your name, Jungkook disappears. He remembers the last time he saw you, entering Aleve with his father and Namjoon. Hearing your laughter from across the room, craning his neck only to find you with Liam Jessen. Jungkook’s worst enemy, smiling at you like you were the only person in the room.

Jungkook tried to recover after that, tried not to think about it – a plan swiftly dashed when he ran into you outside the bathroom. Cheeks hot, Jungkook once more relives that brutal interaction.

It doesn’t matter who you sleep with. I know you’ll call as soon as you realize they’re just as boring as every man before me.

Jungkook was jealous, but there’s no excuse for what he said. Your response was equally cutting, reducing whatever had been between you to sex. Jungkook should have pressed harder, but imposter syndrome stepped in and all he could do was agree.

Now, a voice in the back of his mind – which sounds suspiciously like Yoongi – whispers that Jungkook pushes people away to see if they’ll come back. Unfair, whispers that same voice. True relationships don’t keep score. You shouldn’t be guilted into admitting your feelings before Jungkook deigns to tell you his.

It’s no wonder you haven’t reached out, proving the second half of his statement incorrect. You haven’t felt the need to call him since Liam. Instead of lashing out, Jungkook should have just told you how he felt. Maybe then, he’d be seeing you tonight instead of facing yet another night alone in his apartment. Wondering if you’re by yourself or out there with Liam. 

Swallowing hard, Jungkook pushes the thought away. Realizing his fingers have resumed their tapping, Jungkook lays his palm flat on the table. “I’m sorry,” he exhales and looks up. “I… know I’ve been distracted. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Concern knits Namjoon’s brow. “That’s not – I wasn’t trying to get you to apologize, man. I genuinely want to know what’s going on. Are you alright?”

These simple words dissolve the barrier between Jungkook’s mind and his mouth. Embarrassing, how fast genuine concern can make Jungkook break down. His father would have had something to say about it – which probably means Jungkook shouldn’t be embarrassed about the reaction.

“No,” he admits. “Everything isn’t okay – but it will be. Soon. I know I’ve been distracted, but I promise to do better.”

Namjoon looks at him wryly. “Who are they?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Laughing to himself, Namjoon takes the seat beside him. “Whoever it is that has you in shambles,” he continues. “This conference room is dry, otherwise I’d offer you a stiff drink. Feels like we should imbibe if we have to talk about feelings.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile. “That obvious, huh?”

“Only to those who’ve been there before.”

Leaning back in his seat, Jungkook tilts his head. He and Namjoon have been friends for years, although their friendship began as a business relationship. Namjoon wasn’t around for the less savory parts of his life; the years when Jungkook was drunk more often than not and took nothing about this company seriously. 

Other people remember though, and Jungkook has had to work to turn his image around. Even now, his father’s media headlines haunt his footsteps – although these have recently ceased since Jungkook became CEO. You’re a distraction to his work by any definition, drawing Jungkook’s attention away from the company. Especially so if Namjoon has noticed.

“Can I give you some advice?” Namjoon offers, steepling long fingers before him.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “If I said no, would that stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Then, sure. Go ahead.”

Namjoon leans in. “Don’t let this fester.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is that’s been bothering you.” Namjoon lowers his hands. “Don’t let things linger – fix the situation before it’s too late. My mom always says not to go to bed angry and in this case, I agree with her.”

Jungkook considers. “When would you not agree with that statement?”

“If you’re both drunk and neither one of you are making any sense.”

“Huh.” He nods. “Valid.”

“Anyways,” Namjoon sighs. “I’ve been paying attention to you this week, and whatever’s going on hasn’t gotten any better. Rather than keep going, you should make a change.”

“A change to… what?”

“Hell, if I know.” Namjoon lifts a shoulder and lets it fall. “I only know the bare minimum of information about your situation.”

“Fair point.” Jungkook exhales, pushing a hand through his hair.

Shoving his chair back to stand, Namjoon adjusts his suit jacket. Scooping his laptop from the table, he heads for the door only to pause on the threshold, looking as though he’s debating whether to say something or not.

Evidently, saying the thing wins out and he straightens. “You know you can delegate, right?” Namjoon says, leveling Jungkook with a look. “Today’s meeting, for example. You probably don’t need to hear every update from every department. Let your CFO talk to Finance and tell you if something’s important.”

The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens. “You’re probably right,” he allows.

Truthfully, Jungkook is struggling to find his management style. His father ruled through fear and the occasional carrot. Jungkook wants to make his own mark on the company and have his employees work because they actually want to, but this is proving more difficult to achieve than he thought.

“Just a thought.” Namjoon shrugs, slapping the door before disappearing down the hall. Jungkook is left alone, the clock on the wall the only sound apart from his thoughts. 

Exhaling lowly, he stares at his hands atop the acrylic table. On his right, the sun has gradually sunk towards the horizon. Today is Friday, meaning most of his staff has gone home by now. Their weekly report-out is usually the last meeting on people’s calendars. Jungkook rarely leaves before the sun sets, though. He uses his time in the evening to respond to his emails.

Namjoon is probably right about delegating. Afraid of being seen as an absentee leader, Jungkook has joined every meeting for every direct report since the Board voted him in as CEO. It’s probably time for him to relax the reins, or else be seen as a micromanager. 

Releasing a breath, Jungkook pulls his notepad closer. His cell phone sits beside him on the table, stubbornly silent since the start of the meeting. Jungkook doesn’t bother to check if you’ve texted, since he already knows the answer. 

Since Aleve, you’ve been quiet.

Things were awkward before then though if he’s being honest. When you called Jungkook the night prior and asked him to stay, he nearly jumped at the chance. Despite having a Board meeting the next day and mountains of paperwork to do – the moment you called, Jungkook came. The truth of the matter was he wouldn’t turn down any opportunity to see you, no matter the consequences.

Jungkook should’ve known then that he was in trouble, but he didn’t fully realize until the next day. When he awoke and saw your face limned by sunlight, Jungkook knew things had gone further than he intended.

He had feelings for you. Strong feelings. Feelings Jungkook had never experienced, and ones which put him in danger because they broke all your rules. This was also the moment panic set in – you’d been more than clear about what would happen if he broke a rule. Jungkook had fallen for the one person he’d promised not to – and so he ran away.

Later, he texted a casual thank you. Jungkook tried to pull back, tried to disguise his true feelings so you wouldn’t suspect things had changed. Somehow though, this only seemed to make things worse. The voice in his head whispers Jungkook did it on purpose – shut you down before you could tell him to go.

Eyes closed, Jungkook swivels in his chair. Namjoon is right. He should call you, but the thought of picking up the phone and putting his heart on the line seems insurmountable. It’s nearly six o clock on a Friday, anyways – more than likely, you’re out with your friends.

Jungkook’s throat tightens. Or possibly out on another date with Liam. 

Pushing his chair back, Jungkook reaches for his notebook. Over a month has gone by since he ran into Liam at your fundraiser – it seems impossible for feelings to have developed in such a short time. Then again, Jungkook didn’t feel this way about you a month ago. Hell, he was in denial of his feelings up until your apartment.

Now that he knows though, it’s up to Jungkook to confess before it’s too late. Even if you are hooking up with Liam, that would be better than if you developed feelings for him. This depressing turn of thought is thankfully interrupted by Jungkook’s phone buzzing.

Withdrawing this, he hopes for your name only to be disappointed by the truncated line of text. Exhaling lowly, Jungkook swipes.

Dad: You need to attend the Y/L/N’s anniversary party tomorrow evening. Unexpected business out of town – will be gone until Monday. Sign my name in the card, thx [6:36 PM]

Frown deepening, Jungkook pockets his phone. Just like his father to expect him to drop everything and attend to the family business. If the Board vote on company strategy weren’t imminent, Jungkook would likely tell his father to go to hell.

There’s also the fact that your family name is in the text – Y/L/N. This party is being thrown by your parents, which means you might attend. Coming to a stop before his office, Jungkook is struck by the possibility this could work in his favor.

Rather than chase you down, he could show up at the party and see your reaction. Something to inform him whether his feelings are returned before placing it all on the line.

Jungkook knows that feelings shouldn’t be conditional. That if he wants to confess, he should just do it, but Jungkook manages to push the voice aside. Already building a plan for tomorrow, he strides into his office and lets the door shut.

All day long, Jungkook debates what time to arrive. Get there too soon, and he might scare you off. Arrive late enough and he could miss you entirely. You haven’t been shy about the feelings you hold for your parents, and Jungkook doubts you’ll stay long.

In the end, he exits his town car a half hour late, but Jungkook needn’t have worried: you’re nowhere to be found. Deflating slightly, Jungkook wanders inside and orders a drink from a bar. Turning to face the ballroom, he swirls his whiskey while scanning the floor.

The party is indistinguishable from any other society event, doing little to recommend it in Jungkook’s opinion. Pulling himself from the bar, Jungkook engages in small talk while making the rounds and keeping one eye on the door.

Nearly an hour passes, and Jungkook finds himself trapped in conversation with one of his father’s close friends. Laura something or other; Jungkook can’t recall her surname. Nodding while listening, Jungkook tunes Laura out while she prattles on about her new diamond mine. 

“Have you been there?” Laura prompts, forcing him into the conversation.

“Hm?” Jungkook lifts a brow. “No, I’m afraid not.”

A risk, since he didn’t hear where Laura mentioned, but a negative answer discourages follow-up. Or so it would seem. With Laura though, this prompts a soliloquy about the benefits of Cannes in the fall. As soon as he considers it polite to do so, Jungkook excuses himself and heads once more for the bar.

He’s nearly made it when the crowd parts and time seems to slow as you enter the ballroom. Dressed in a gown of midnight blue, you throw your head back and laugh – and Jungkook’s gaze drifts sideways to land on Liam Jessen. 

His feet turn to ice. Coming to a stop, Jungkook can’t help but stare at the sight of your arm intertwined with his. You look beautiful, but then again, you always do. Gown sweeping the floor, you’re nothing short of ethereal and seeing you on the arm of another man slices Jungkook’s chest open. 

When you look at Liam and smile, the pounding of Jungkook’s heart drowns out all thought. Grasping ahold of himself, Jungkook spins around to stalk across the floor. He can’t see you like this. Can’t talk to you calmly when you’re here with Liam.

Dropping his glass on the bar counter, Jungkook asks for a whiskey and waits while it’s poured. Staring down at his hand, he regains control of his breathing. 

You came here with Liam. 

You came tonight with a date, and that date is Liam. Sluggishly, Jungkook tries to separate the two thoughts, but they continue to attract like opposing magnets. Discomfort prickles in the back of his mind, putting two and two together. Your rules resurface, unasked and unwanted.

Number one, no discussion of personal lives (broken several times over). Number two, always use protection and get tested monthly for STDs. Number three, that you’re not exclusive. Number four, that either of you are free to end things any time, and rule number five, that your parents can’t find out.

It’s the fifth rule which has Jungkook’s stomach in knots. He assumed you didn’t want to tell your parents because you’re estranged and dating anyone from their world would bring complications. Which makes sense, if Jungkook and you were just having sex. Complications are the antithesis of that type of thing.

For you not to have similar reservations about Liam means things between you are different. That possibly you think Liam is worth the hassle. Unable to contemplate any meaning beyond this, Jungkook’s thoughts curdle and sour.

The bartender finishes pouring, and Jungkook accepts this without comment to chug a third. Setting this back down, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. Exhaling, he considers the options before him. 

You haven’t seen him, which means that Jungkook could leave. His father might be angry, but frankly, that’s the least of Jungkook’s concerns. The more Jungkook ponders, the more appealing this seems, and the more his resolve hardens.

Draining another third, Jungkook turns around and spots you across the room. You stand beside a different bar, smiling at something your brother just said. White-hot jealousy licks Jungkook’s stomach, seeing you introduce Liam to your family.

The rest of his drink disappears, and Jungkook places the empty glass on the counter, sliding the bartender a fifty. Adjusting his suit jacket, he skirts the edge of the room as he heads for the door.

Your face burns in his mind. Standing between your brother and Liam, you seemed almost happy. Buoyant. Without a care in the world. Exactly the opposite of how Jungkook feels now. Clearly, you haven’t been missing him during your time apart. 

Forcing his expression to neutrality, Jungkook crosses the rest of the room. He’s nearly made it to the hallway when a man steps into his path.

“Jungkook!” Reaching for his hand, the man clasps this tightly. “What a surprise – fancy seeing you here instead of your father. Seems like the regime change is in full swing, eh?”

With great effort, Jungkook slows his stride. The man is Charles Smith – a valuable ally, and one of the few Fortune 500 companies willing to invest in clean energy. Namjoon has drafted numerous proposals for their companies working together, which means Jungkook can’t afford to alienate him at such a crucial time.

Forcing a smile, Jungkook comes to a stop. “Something like that,” he says smoothly, shaking his hand. “How are you this evening, Charles?”

“Oh, Chuck is fine. I’m swell,” he says, withdrawing his hand to swirl his gin. “The doctor keeps telling me not to drink, but we’ve all got to die sometime – right?”

“Right,” Jungkook agrees, though his gaze darts towards the hall.

Unfortunately, this means you’re forced in his path. You’ve left the bar and now stand beside your mother, your expression aggravated in a way Jungkook can understand. When your gaze locks with his, you go completely still. 

Even if Jungkook didn’t know who your companion was, he’d know you were related. Something about your bearing, the confident way you stand screams familial relation. You probably wouldn’t like hearing that, but traits by themselves aren’t bad. It’s what you do with them that matters.

While your mother seems unimpressed by her surroundings, you look visibly frustrated. Jungkook isn’t sure why and probably shouldn’t care to find out. Your familial problems are none of his concern.

Turning around, Jungkook thanks Charles for his time before he moves on. Your worried face refuses to dissipate from mind though, despite his best efforts. Eventually, Jungkook exhales and turns – only to notice Liam is still with you. Feet pausing, Jungkook finds himself feeling foolish for the second time that night.

Grasping you by the arm, your mother returns you to their circle – completing the image of a picture-perfect family. Idiot, Jungkook curses, disappearing again. Foolish to not hear what you said, to ignore the many, many times you’ve placed boundaries between you. 

Jungkook’s inner voice delights in his anguish, strengthened by the ache in his heart. Not good enough for your father, not good enough for Y/N, the voice muses. How can you hope for a serious relationship when you’ve never been in one before? Liam might be an ass, but at least he has ambition. He made something of himself, rather than spend so many years drowning in self-pity.

As cruel as the thought is, it’s not entirely wrong. Liam has more in common with you than Jungkook would like to admit – you’ve known from a young age what you wanted, just like Liam. Liam wasn’t born into wealth; his family doesn’t exist within the same social circle. It almost makes sense, the idea of you dating.

Liam betrayed Jungkook’s confidence once, but they were both young then. Naïve. Maybe Liam has changed since the internship – God knows, Jungkook has. 

Returning his thoughts to present, Jungkook reaches the valet. Ultimately, you brought Liam to meet your parents and not Jungkook. Whether this means you have feelings for Liam or can’t see a future with Jungkook – either way, the result is the same.

Jungkook supposes he can’t blame you for that. Jeon Energy is the Goliath to your David. Until Jungkook’s proposal is approved by the Board, the direction of Jeon Energy remains the same. Dating him would go against everything you believe in. It isn’t as though Jungkook has let you in on his plans or allowed you to think better of him in any way. 

While waiting for his car to arrive, Jungkook keeps both hands in his pockets. The fact that you brought Liam means Rule Number Four can’t be far behind. The rule which allows either of you to end things between you. Jungkook recalls how he scoffed at this rule, certain it wouldn’t be necessary for either one of you. 

In his experience, interest rarely lasts longer than a month. Jungkook figured your spark would fizzle and die, that you’d gradually stop calling and there’d be no hard feelings. Now, he can’t help but wonder at how foolish he was.

Jungkook needs to end this before you can. 

By ending things first, it’d allow Jungkook to keep some of his dignity. It would also give you an out, alleviating you from pressure of letting him down. If anything, Jungkook imagines you’ll feel some relief. This way, you don’t have to explain about Liam.

Flipping his keys, Jungkook is staring into the night when footsteps approach. 

Turning his head, he watches the moment you enter the hall. A vision in blue, fabric drifting around your legs as you come to a stop. For a moment, Jungkook wonders if you’re here to see him before banishing the notion as dangerous.

“Hi,” you exhale, your voice carrying through the hall.

Brow furrowing, Jungkook wonders why you came. Maybe Liam is close behind, ready to leave with you in his car. 

“Hi,” Jungkook exhales, his chest tight.

Glancing over his shoulder, you search for someone, and Jungkook’s confusion grows. Everyone else remains at the party. Distractedly, Jungkook wonders if you saw him leave and came to check on him. The thought of your pity makes his neck heat.

“Can we talk?” you ask at last, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook pauses, at war with himself. If he agrees, he’d be moving up the timeline of your conversation. Not to mention the fact that merely the sight of you loosens his resolve. If you were to talk now, who knows what he’d say.

“I…” Jungkook hesitates, certain he should say no. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

Something flares in your gaze. “I didn’t say it was a good idea. I said I wanted to talk.”

Jungkook is forced to press his lips together to keep from laughing. It’s just such a you thing to say that against his better judgement, Jungkook finds himself nodding. Despite knowing this will hurt more tomorrow, Jungkook gives in.

Taking him by the arm, you tug him down the hall. Jungkook follows closely behind, unceremoniously dragged while you find a suitable room. Pulling open a door, you shove Jungkook in, flicking the light switch to quickly follow suit.

Your dress settles around you, nose nearly pressed to his in the dim light of the closet. Jungkook’s heart pounds, overloud in such a small space. Your scent wraps around him, body and soul, pulling him in when he should run away. It muddies what he came here to tell you, causes him to forget that you’re breaking his heart.

Unable to breathe, Jungkook looks at the door. Then, at your ear. Anywhere but at your gaze, which can see right through him. 

Eventually, the silence moves him to speak. “You wanted to talk?” Jungkook asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

You blink in amazement. “That’s… all you have to say?”

Jungkook notices you’re holding his wrist at the same time you do. Dropping him as though burned, you take a step backwards and your spine hits the door. This rejection stings more than Jungkook would like to admit.

“Well, I was about to leave,” he says stiffly, and meets your gaze.

He wishes he hadn’t when your eyes narrow, full of fire. It’s unfair of you to look at him like that. Unfair to look at him at all when you came here with Liam and again, Jungkook wonders why you’re here. 

“Fine, then,” you huff. “I’ll speak.”

Jungkook’s heart aches when he hears the clear hurt in your voice. As infuriating as tonight has been, Jungkook had every opportunity to say how he felt weeks ago. Hell, he could have called yesterday, but he didn’t. Instead, Jungkook showed up tonight and expected to be met with your praise.

Folding your arms across your chest, you fix Jungkook with a glare. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” you exhale.

Jungkook hesitates, unsure how to respond. You came here tonight with Liam, so it doesn’t make sense for you to pull him aside for small talk. To chase him towards his car only to ask Jungkook how he’s been.

Forcing his expression to remain neutral, Jungkook searches for an answer that’s least embarrassing. Or incriminating.

“I’ve been out of town,” he says at last.

You study his face. “Business trip?”

“Yes. Amongst other things.”

It’s mostly true. Jungkook and Namjoon have been traveling across the country, securing their plans for the upcoming Board meeting. You don’t know anything about that though, so his answer remains vague.

“Seems awfully sudden,” you observe.

Realizing his jaw is clenched, Jungkook forces himself to relax. The fact that you’re here, mad at him when you came with Liam is beyond infuriating. “I can’t help but notice,” he says, voice dropping, “you didn’t text me either. Or did I miss your messages?”

Something in your expression falters, but you recover quickly to step closer. Breath held, Jungkook looks you up and down. Everything about your body language screams anger, but this can’t be right. You’ve been dating Liam for weeks, have introduced him to your parents which means a breakup with Jungkook can’t be far behind – right? 

“No, you didn’t,” you admit. 

Jungkook’s resolve hardens. “So, I have to assume you didn’t want to see me.”

His voice comes out calmer than he is though, and the irrationality of your discussion spurs a wave of uncertainty. You didn’t text Jungkook; he didn’t text you. Both of you ignored the other and now, here you are. That part makes sense, no matter how uncomfortable.

What Jungkook can’t explain is why you ran after him. Why you pulled him aside and wanted to talk. None of what you’re saying matters if you’re planning to end things – unless you’re not. A wild spark of hope catches, and Jungkook smothers it quickly.

“I was waiting,” you blurt out, incredulous. “After all the weirdness at the restaurant, I was waiting for you to reach out to me!”

Jungkook’s thoughts stutter, then resume. You wanted him to reach out. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that you moved on so quickly. 

“What weirdness?” 

“Oh, please.” You stifle an eye roll. “I ran into you on a date with Liam, and you acted strange.”

Jungkook’s entire face heats. “I mean, I do think it’s weird that you want to date Jessen,” he says, unable to stop himself. “He’s not a good guy.”

“Why not?” you demand. “You can’t just say that, and not explain.”

Jungkook hesitates, on the verge of explanation before he pulls back. It doesn’t matter. If Jungkook tells you about Liam, he’d have to explain everything – his mom, his dad and the whole, morbid past. There’s no point in sharing if you’re leaving tonight.

Something about this feels wrong, but Jungkook can’t put a finger on why.

“Why did you even come here?” you ask, your expression changing. “Why did you come to my parents’ party if you didn’t want to see me? If you really don’t care?”

I care, Jungkook wants to yell. Obviously, he cares but you were the one who walked in on someone else’s arm. The confession chokes in his throat, stillborn.

“I came because my dad asked me,” Jungkook says instead. “He couldn’t attend, so he sent me in his place. It would’ve been rude for one of us not to attend.”

Your jaw tightens. “Liar.”

Jungkook goes still. “Excuse me?” 

Somehow, you move even closer. “I said, liar,” you repeat, chin tilted. “Your father didn’t ask you to come. You came here because you wanted to – why can’t you just admit that?”

Panic sparks, realizing you can see right through him. And still, Jungkook doesn’t understand why you’re pretending to care. Why you continue to push, trying to get Jungkook to say he cares when you’re the one leaving. Do you want him to beg? Would leaving be better if you left him humiliated?

Anger is easier to focus on than pain, and so Jungkook grasps it tight with both hands. 

Something in your gaze falters. “I – right, okay,” you murmur, fumbling behind you for the door. “Got it. I just… assumed. I’ll go.”

Hearing your voice crack, Jungkook’s fury vanishes. No longer caring about the why, he focuses on the what and reaches out for your wrist. Your breath catches when his fingers close around your warm skin. Gently – so gently – Jungkook turns you around and presses you to the door.

Inhaling your scent, Jungkook crowds you against the wood. You stare back at him and Jungkook wonders what would’ve happened if he’d just called. 

Feeling suddenly helpless, he drops the façade. “You’re right,” Jungkook admits, his voice hoarse. “I wanted to see you.”

Bending his head, he crushes your lips with his.

Your noise of surprise muffles, dissipating the moment your lips touch. Hands encircling his waist, you slowly trace the panes of his body. Jungkook loves the way you touch him – gentle and then, not gentle at all. Losing himself in your touch, Jungkook kisses you roughly.

When your hands tug his hair, Jungkook groans into your mouth. Memorizing the feel of your body with his, he shuts out the fear that this might be the last. Within minutes, the kiss has turned urgent, both of you searching for something unsaid. Smoothing a hand down your spine, Jungkook tugs you into his chest. 

Half-hard since he entered the closet, Jungkook bites down on your lip to relish the soft noise you make. Slipping his hand beneath the strap of your dress, he bares your shoulder and cups your breast in his palm. Slowly, he teases your nipple with his thumb and listens to your breath hitch.

Head lowered, Jungkook closes his lips around the nipple and tugs. You groan, arching against him in eager invitation. Hand reaching, Jungkook fumbles with your zipper until it catches and pulls. Your dress pools on the ground, leaving you naked except for your heels and panties. Cock swelling at the visual, Jungkook bites lightly on your nipple through lace.

Reaching behind, you undo your bra and let this fall to the floor. With it, the last of Jungkook’s resolve slips away. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

Before you can respond, he lowers his head and sucks your breast again. Teasing you slowly, he relishes the eager rise and fall of your chest. Lowering his hand, he grasps your thigh to wrap firmly around him. Fingers searching, he skims the edge of your wetness and feels you tremble.

Returning to your lips, Jungkook crushes his mouth to yours. Now that you’ve kissed, he can’t seem to stop – especially when he knows this might be the last. Pouring everything he feels into a wordless gesture, Jungkook pulls you to him.

You whimper, shifting to better align your hips to his. Tightening his grip on your waist, Jungkook chuckles and keeps himself just beyond reach. Lazily trailing his fingers in circles, he angles his head to deepen the kiss.

“Jungkook,” you moan against his lips.

He can’t help but smile. “Yes?”

Eyes opening, your expression turns heady. “I need more.”

“More.” Casually, his fingers stroke higher. “Is that what you want from me? Want me to make you come, princess?”

There’s a bite to his words he can’t fully disguise. Jungkook is used to being wanted for his skills in bed. It’s never been something he begrudged before but then, he’s never wanted more from someone else and hearing you say it is like a knife to the chest.

You hesitate, gaze searching. “What do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook goes still, scanning your face. He wants more than this. He wants you and you, alone but that can’t possibly be what you mean. 

“What… do I want?” he repeats.

“Yes.” You stare up at him, earnest. “You always ask me what I want in bed, but what do you want?”

In bed. Each word is followed by a dull thunk, falling into place alongside the weight of expectation. Obviously, you meant sex – anything more would be ludicrous. You came here tonight with someone else, after all.

Lowering his head, Jungkook skims your throat with his nose. He allows his teeth to graze skin, feeling you shudder and tightening his grip. 

“This,” he murmurs, voice cracking in a rare moment of honesty. “Just this.”

Jungkook kisses you before you can see the desperation in his eyes. He backs you against the door, skimming the top of your panties with his rough fingers. You shudder against him, arching your chest and Jungkook takes pity.

Sliding a hand lower, he cups your center and hisses when he feels how wet you are. Slowly, he drags a finger forward – along the damp fabric. One palm on the door, Jungkook repeats this over and over, until you’re a wet, sopping mess.

“Jungkook,” you beg, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Thighs together, princess.”

Hastening to obey, you trap his hand between your warm legs. Flexing his wrist, Jungkook idly strokes along the seam of your panties. A soft moan leaves your lips, head hitting the door while he touches you. Jungkook slowly slips his finger beneath the soft lace.

Brushing the hood of your clit, he savors how swollen you are. How responsive your body is to his touch. Gaze dropping, he takes in the frantic roll of your hips.

“Jungkook,” you moan, and his gaze jerks upward.

“Look at you,” he croons, moving closer. “Already a mess and I’ve barely touched you. Just sucked on those pretty tits like you needed. Tell me,” he says, voice hardening. “Tell me you needed it.”

Deep down, Jungkook knows this is wrong. It isn’t healthy to push things so far, to make you come on his hand when he knows this is over – and yet, he can’t bring himself to stop. If this is all Jungkook gets, he at least wants you to remember. 

“I did,” you gasp. “I needed it so bad.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Because no one else gets you like this, huh?”

“N-no one,” you pant, a tremor to your voice.

“What was that?”

“No one but you, Jungkook,” you amend, and he grunts in approval.

“Turn around,” he demands and steps backwards.

You obey, hands pressed to the door as you lower your head. A shiver runs down Jungkook’s spine, seeing how much you trust him. Stepping closer, he eases your legs apart with one hand. Removing your panties, Jungkook lets them fall and presses his hips to your ass from behind.

“Did you bring a condom?” he murmurs, savoring your intake of breath.

Your head tips back a little. “I – no,” you blurt, eyes widening. “I didn’t think of it.”

Satisfaction seeps through his chest when Jungkook realizes you didn’t plan on sleeping with Liam. That’s something, at least. Something he can give you that no one else can. 

Chuckling lowly, he caresses your ass – only to bring his palm down. “Didn’t think of it,” Jungkook breathes, dragging two fingers through your dripping sex. “Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“Don’t” – a sharp inhale – “believe what?”

Spanking you again, Jungkook presses you against the door. “I don’t think you forgot a condom,” he murmurs, low in your ear. “I think that you wanted my cum inside you. Is that right? Want me to fuck you raw?”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction before he continues. You let out a whimper, pressing your ass backwards in clear invitation. Fuck. Jungkook nearly swears out loud, consumed by the thought of what it would feel like. Sex without a condom has never been practical for him but now, Jungkook finds himself imagining.

Slowly, he circles your dripping entrance. Sliding his finger inside, Jungkook lets you adjust before he pulls out. “You’re such a dirty girl,” he exhales, adding a second finger.

Pushing backwards, your legs widen slightly to accommodate him. Jungkook slowly moves in and out, stretching your entrance.

“Tell me you don’t want that,” he murmurs. “Me, bending you over and fucking you hard in this closet. Filling you up to the brim with my cum.”

It’s hard for Jungkook to concentrate once the thought has been voiced. If he can’t have you the way he wants to, he can at least pretend. When you moan your approval, it only stokes his flames higher.

“I could do that right now,” Jungkook continues, dropping his voice. “Fuck you so hard, then cum inside this perfect pussy. When I’m done, I’ll tug your panties up, put on your dress and send you back out there. Except” – his voice catches – “I’ll know. And you’ll know that your sweet, little pussy has been used by me. Belongs to me. Is full of me.”

You groan, arching into him while his fingers fill you. The image is provocative, imagining his claim when you return to Liam. Even if you don’t want Jungkook like that, your body clearly does – and Jungkook knows he can satisfy you better than anyone. The thought of his cum dripping down your thigh when you return to your date brings more than a little dark satisfaction.

“Jungkook,” you pant. 

“What, princess?” he murmurs, refocusing on the present.

“I – I’m close.”

“Already?” Grazing his teeth against your shoulder, Jungkook quickens his pace. “Let’s give you an orgasm to start, then.”

You whimper, thighs trembling as he pushes you over the edge. It’s not long before you gasp his name, spasming around Jungkook until he withdraws his fingers.

Exhaling slowly, you hang your head. Tugging down his zipper, Jungkook doesn’t waste any time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a condom and rips this open. The tear of the packet makes you turn your head.

Dazed, your gaze latches onto the motion. “You… had a condom on you?”

Jungkook smirks and rolls this on. “You seemed to enjoy the idea of my cum inside you.”

Your eyes narrow, but you don’t disagree and Jungkook steps forward to press his cock to your core. Any trace of annoyance vanishes, replaced by desire as he drags his cock up and down. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels how wet you are, rubbing his head against your swollen clit. 

Slowly, he leans forward to press you against the door. “Is this what you want?” Jungkook urges, reaching lower to grasp his length with one hand. Casually, he smacks your clit with his cock. “Want my cock inside this needy pussy?”

“God, yes,” you groan as you lower your head.

Hearing this is searing and suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t feel like playing games. “Good,” he agrees and thrusts forward.

You gasp when he enters, gaze focused on the place where he fills you. Jungkook nearly swears when he feels the slickness of your heat, the easy way you envelop him when he slides in. Pausing halfway, he waits until you adjust before pushing further. Slow, easy thrusts until you take his whole length.

Jungkook grunts when he bottoms out, hips pressed snugly against your ass. Refusing to move, he begins to tease your body. Sliding one hand up your torso to cup your full breast in his palm. Casual, he plays with your tit as he starts to thrust – pulling back out, only to slide slowly in.

He does this again and again, memorizing your body until your patience disappears. Taking over the rhythm, you set the pace and push back on his cock. Jungkook allows you to lead before deciding enough is enough and resuming control. Grasping your hip, he presses you to the door and feels you inhale.

Your body melts with his, showcasing your trust and Jungkook nearly breaks. Thrusting forward, he fills you with everything that you crave. You want him to fuck you? So be it. You want him to give you an orgasm? Jungkook will do it. He’ll give you everything you ask, even if it costs him himself.

Touching your body everywhere he can reach, Jungkook feels a building urgency. Playing with your clit, teasing your breast, turning your face sideways to lick up your throat. Savoring your taste, he pounds into your body and hopes against reason you’ll remember tonight.

Based on the way your body trembles, the prospect is promising. Jungkook knows that he’s big. It’s something he’s heard before, but you take him so easily and without complaint. He knows you enjoy the sensation, that you appreciate the feeling of too-fullness he gives. The thought makes him even harder, his cock throbbing with each punishing thrust into your slick heat.

Sliding one palm underneath your knee, Jungkook opens you further and fully lets go. He feels your body constrict, fluttering around him to let him know you’re close.

“That’s it,” he grunts, gripping your jaw to turn your face to his. “Is this what you want? Want me to make you come?”

Silently, he begs you with his eyes to say something different. That you want more than sex, but nothing in your expression seems to understand.

“Yes,” you gasp, eyelashes fluttering. “Yes.”

Pressing his mouth to yours, Jungkook claims you when you come apart. You squeeze him so tightly, he wonders if you somehow know this might be the last time. Forcing himself to continue until your final wave, Jungkook finally comes in a heated shudder.

He stays there for a moment, breath rising and falling against your bare skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook imagines briefly this won’t be the end. That he can leave this closet, walk you back to your family and – here, stops the daydream because you came here with Liam.

Slowly, Jungkook withdraws and ties the condom in a knot. Clearing his throat, he fumbles for words while glancing around the closet.

This is the last time. It has to be the last since Jungkook can’t continue to break himself into pieces. Can’t continue to fuck you and send you home to him.

Quietly, you adjust the strap of your dress. Jungkook keeps his hands still, itching to help but convincing himself not to. Every part of his body screams at him to stay, to do something – say something – but he forces himself to stay.

Tucking himself into his pants, Jungkook pulls up the zipper. He feels the weight of your gaze on his cheek, uncertain. When he finally meets your eyes, Jungkook forces his expression to harden. After a moment, he looks past – towards the door.

Something in your posture stiffens. “Jungkook,” you say, sounding wary. “Why are you here?”

The answer rises to his lips, but Jungkook stamps it back down. He came to apologize. To tell you how he felt but all possibilities ended the moment you entered with Liam.

“Are you dating Liam?” Jungkook asks, the words slipping past. Cursing himself for the sudden lapse, he tries not to notice the way you react. 

“I… what?” 

Jungkook feels his lips tighten. “Are you dating Liam Jessen?”

“We…” You blink, hesitating a moment. “We’ve been on a few dates.”

Neither a yes nor a no, but either way, the words are enough to sink his last hope. Jungkook’s heart drops, and he nods.

Only a few dates is both good and bad. It’s good that the number is small – bad that despite this, you wanted Liam to meet your family. Swallowing hard, Jungkook tastes the scorched earth of his anger. He concentrates on this rather than on sorrow – easier to face you with vitriol in his heart.

Gaze flickering, you step closer. “Jungkook, I –”

“This should probably be the last time we do this, right?” 

You freeze, the heat from your body tangible. The look on your face is shock, clear and uncalculated, and Jungkook’s anger swells in response. You have no right to look at him that way – as though he were the villain breaking your heart.

“You…” Dazed, you shake your head. “We what?”

“You and Liam are together, right?” Jungkook asks, the words coming out sharp.

“Together isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Then what word would you use?” His words bleed with frustration, and Jungkook isn’t sure what he’s searching for. 

Except that’s not true because he does know. If you said you wanted him, Jungkook would end this right now. He’d say that he wants you, and that he wants things to change. Even while thinking this though, Jungkook knows it’s unfair. He can’t expect you to put your heart on the line when he’s not willing to do the same.

Either way, you say nothing and slowly, Jungkook’s frustration vanishes. Any answer would be preferred to this punishing silence. 

“Thought so,” he breathes, grasping for straws. “Wasn’t that part of the rules? We’d fuck until you found someone else to date?”

You recoil slightly, and it takes all Jungkook’s willpower to keep himself still. It’s better this way, he reasons. Better for you to hate him now than peer beneath the surface and see how much he’s hurting.

“That was a long time ago,” you counter. “And that’s not everything I said to you.”

Jungkook suppresses his wince because he knows. He knows things have changed since the night you gave your rules. Remembers with perfect clarity standing in your kitchen and hearing you say Jungkook’s mom would be proud. 

He remembers entering your body later that night, cupping your face with both hands to brush his lips against yours. Jungkook knows things have changed and still, he pushes you away because it seems better – safer – than you pushing him first.

“You’re right,” he says, slipping both hands in his pockets. “You also implied things could end if I caught an STD.”

Your brow furrows. “Jungkook,” you say, reaching for him. “Just stop. Let’s –”

“I have feelings for someone,” he blurts.

At this, your hand freezes. Jungkook wishes you would touch, aches for the brush of your skin but forces himself to stay silent. It’s too late for reconciliation – he can tell by the flashes of emotion chasing each other across your face. 

Shock, confusion, and where he expects anger, Jungkook finds something far worse – hurt.

“Do… I know her?” 

Jungkook’s heart cracks down the middle. He can’t possibly say that you are her. If he did, you’d be forced to choose between him and Liam, and Jungkook already knows how that’d go. Everyone chooses someone else in the end.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says at last.

You stare at him another moment, causing Jungkook to wonder if you see through him. Then, your expression crumples and you withdraw your hand.

“Right,” you whisper.

Jungkook’s resolve falters. “I just… don’t want to drag this out,” he says, and even to his ears, the words sound weak. “I think it would be better to end things now. Before someone gets hurt.” 

The words are nearly cause for laughter because it’s much too late for that. 

“Right,” you exhale. “Is that why you came here tonight?”

When Jungkook pauses, disappointment settles over your features.

“Well, good,” you say, lifting your chin. “Okay. We said we’d hook up as long as it made sense. If it doesn’t make sense, we should end it.”

Something jerks in his stomach. “Y/N…”

A bitter laugh escapes you, reaching backwards. “Don’t Y/N me.”

“I get that you’re upset, but –”

“Upset?” Your entire body freezes, fury limning your eyes. “I’m not upset, Jungkook – I’m pissed. You avoided me for weeks just to show up at my parents’ party, fuck me in a closet and end this? Which – oh my god,” you say, something like horror crossing your face. “We had sex, Jungkook. What would the woman you supposedly like have to say about that?”

Jungkook’s chest seizes, making breathing difficult. Everything you say is true and already, he can tell he’s going to regret this.

“She’d hate it,” he admits, soft.

You pause, brow furrowing. “Well, okay. As long as you… agree with me?”

Jungkook can only stare at you, helpless. “This is for the best, Y/N. I know that it is. You have Liam, and I – well, I made a mistake coming here. I shouldn’t have followed you in here. Or kissed you. I –”

“That’s enough,” you snap.

Your chest rises and falls, anger barely restrained when Jungkook falls silent. He knows he crossed a line, and truthfully, he regrets nothing except how things are ending. And maybe the way he left your place that one morning.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, well.” You take a deep breath, reaching behind you. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, right? We were casual. Only sex. And now we’re nothing.”

It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t thought before, but your words skewer him in a way he didn’t think possible. Light from the hall floods the closet when you leave, striping the floor with Jungkook’s own shadow.

He allows you to go, knowing it’s for the best as he drags a hand down his face. Exhaling deeply, Jungkook tries to suppress the tears pricking his eyelids.

Logic which once seemed simple now seems indecipherable. Jungkook thought ending things would be cleaner but now, he’s not sure. Did you really want Liam to meet your parents, or did it happen by chance? More importantly – were you planning to end things with Jungkook?

A sliver of uncertainty enters his thoughts, but Jungkook forces himself to move on. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You two are over. He won’t see you again.

The enormity of this crashes over him and suddenly, it’s hard for Jungkook to breathe. He forces himself to inhale, taking slow, shallow breaths until the feeling passes. Eventually, Jungkook opens the closet door and steps into the hall. 

Most of the walk to the car is a blur, only sharpening once he settles into the driver’s seat. Clutching the steering wheel with both hands, Jungkook stares at his knuckles. If you weren’t planning on ending things tonight, that would mean Jungkook has turned into the very person he fears.

Cold, blind, and ultimately – hopeless.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[ilguna]

hi could you possibly do a modern AU where finnick and readers parents set them up on a blind date and they hit it off please 🙏

☼ mother knows best (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing,

wc; 2.6k

notes; modern au!!

--

“(Y/n).” Your mom says, coming in through the door. “We need to talk, again.”

From where you’re sitting on the couch, you can see that she’s got bags of groceries wrapped around her arms. You close the laptop on your thighs, setting it aside when you get to your feet. 

You were trying to get some extra schoolwork done, wanting to get ahead so that you have nothing to worry about tomorrow. You have plans all day with your friends to go to the city fair that you can’t cancel. You’ve been putting it off for weeks, waiting for the perfect time, and it’s finally come.

“Do you want help?” You ask, walking around the couch. 

“No, your father is grabbing the rest.” She breathes, disappearing into the kitchen.

She sets the few bags on top of the counter, and immediately begins to open them to put the goods away. You pull out a stool that’s tucked away on the other side. “What do you want to talk about?”

She gives you a pointed look, before turning around to open the fridge.

You sigh. “Mom, please don’t start.”

“Will you please just listen to me?” She asks. “I talked with Zillah today, she says that her boy is free tonight.”

You stare at the back of her head, halfway contemplating whether or not you’ll get away with sneaking out of the kitchen right now. You don’t think she’d hear you, unless the stool scrapes against the hardwood. It might be awkward then, when she turns around and you have to pretend like you weren’t trying to run out.

“Well, that’s good for him.” You say.

When she turns around to grab more canned soup, she stops long enough to look at you. “I really think you should get to know him, (Y/n). He’s a nice boy. All of Zillah’s kids are polite.”

“I’m not into dating.” You tell her, slouching in the stool. “I’m trying to focus on college right now. A boyfriend would just distract me.”

“That’s right.” Your dad says, coming into the kitchen, setting more bags onto the counter. “That’s my firstborn.”

“Your only born.” You murmur.

“Honey, you can’t fool me. I know you can focus on both, because that’s what you do with your friends.” She shakes her head. “You make time for them, don’t you?”

“That’s different.”

“How’s that?” She asks.

“I’m not kissing my friends.”

She laughs, “I never said you had to kiss him.”

“That’s what will happen eventually.” You wave your hand. “And I don’t want any of it.”

She gives you a frown. “You worry me. I just don’t want you to end up by yourself.”

As much as you love and appreciate your mom, there’s nothing you hate more than when she tells you that she thinks you’re going to end up alone. This is an idea that she’s held on to for the past couple of years, the one thing that’s really consistent about her. It’s gotten worse lately, due to her and her friend coming together to form the idea that you and her son should be together.

Granted, she doesn’t tell you outright that you’re going to be by yourself for the rest of your life. She usually tells you to get out of the house, afraid that you’re lonely at times. Despite you constantly telling her that you’re happy with your friends, and you don’t need to be with someone every waking second.

She’ll then give you this look—which is normally more than a frown—because you know what she meant. She knows that you’re happy with your friends, you’re around them constantly. What she’s referring to is boys. She thinks that if you don’t find a nice boy now, they’ll all be taken by the time you’re ready.

It’s ridiculous, of course. Each time she brings it up, it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes and try to leave the room as fast as possible. If you don’t. Then she’ll go on about it forever. You can’t even ask your dad for help most of the time, because he wants nothing to do with the conversation. 

If you’re content with being single, then who’s to say he should be the one to intervene?

You wish your mom had that same philosophy.

“Mom, that’s not going to happen.” You tell her. 

“We don’t know that. The future isn’t certain.” She says, “(Y/n), you know I would never tell you to do something if it was a bad idea.” 

She’s facing you now, tired of pulling the bags apart while having this conversation. 

“I don’t know, you’re telling me to do this.” You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head. “Even if I do agree, I won’t have fun, because he’ll be looking for a relationship, and I won’t be.”

“I’ll have Zillah tell him that you’re just getting your feet wet.” She reasons. “It’ll be a no-pressure situation.”

She’s reaching for her phone. It doesn’t matter what you say now, because she’s going to confirm it with Zillah, either way. You let your mom text her, and once the message is sent, you sigh.

“If this goes awry, I get to say ‘I told you so’.” You tell her.

“It won’t, baby, trust me.”

—

The city fair this year looks amazing. 

These past few weeks leading up to today has been worth it. While you would’ve liked tomorrow to be your first time here, because you’ll be with your friends, you honestly can’t complain that you’re going early. Especially since you’re here at night.

There’s nothing you like more than feeling the cool air on your skin, seeing the bright colors, smelling the fair food, and listening to the screams of terror around you. It brings you back a little bit, to when you were younger and had the bravery to get on each and every ride.

You could now, if you wanted to. The lines are fairly short because it’s a weekday. You could probably hit more than half of these before the night is over. The issue is that you don’t want to be alone when you do it. 

That’s why you’ll try to find Zillah’s son—Finnick—first, and go from there. You’re not entirely sure what to expect from him. You know his older brother, he was on the university swim team when you started your first year of college. If he’s anything like Alaric, you think you’ll get along pretty well.

You know nothing about Finnick, besides the fact that he went out of state for university. He graduated a couple months back, you had to dog sit for Zillah because no one else was available. When they came back, you were at home, so you never got the chance to actually meet him.

You’ve seen the outdated pictures on her walls, so you have a vague idea of what to be looking for. They’re from many years ago, making you afraid that you’ll miss him in the crowd. Which is why you texted his number to tell him that you’re waiting next to the slingshot ride.

Honestly, you shouldn’t even have his number, especially if it’s a blind date, like your mom was telling you. It’s unfair that she’s playing both sides of the court, because she wants this to work out so badly. You’ve mentioned the fair to her over a dozen times in the past month, what a coincidence that an unknown number shows up in your phone, suggesting to come here, huh?

You’ll give it to them both this time, but once he gets here, you expect there to be no cheating.

You pull out your phone, checking the time. You’re here early, you’ve already walked around half of the fair, getting a good idea of where everything is. The only reason why you stopped is because he told you he was parking his car, and he’d meet you soon.

“(Y/n)!” A voice calls out.

You look up from reading the group chat between your friends, all of them encouraging you to have fun tonight. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, the response you were curating begins to melt from your mind when your eyes land on him.

Finnick looks nothing like those photos anymore.

He’s tall, there’s a couple inches between him and Alaric, easily. His bronze hair bounces each time he takes a step, there’s a bright smile on his face, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“Hey.” You lower your phone, going to tuck it back into your jeans. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long.” He says, taking you into a hug.

You blink, a little surprised, but give him a good squeeze. He smells good, and he looks good, too. And you’re not just talking about how handsome he is, you mean that he has a great fashion sense. He’s coordinated in his colors, a trait that’s hard to find in guys these days. 

“I wasn’t.” You tell him when he takes a step back. “I walked around to get a look at what they have up this year.”

“Any good food?” He asks, standing straight. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

You give him a smile. “I could go for some food. It’s down this way.”

“Lead the way.” He motions, letting you step first. 

As you lead him down the road and to the row that has most of the stalls, you glance at the rides, thinking about how you won’t ride half of these anymore. And if you do, you’ll need a hand to hold.

“Are you a fair ride type of person, Finnick?” You ask, looking over at him.

“I won’t say no.” He gives you a look, “But I won’t do them alone. It’s always better with a friend, or a sibling.”

“Alaric.” You murmur. 

“You know Alaric?” He asks.

“He was a senior when I was a freshman at Sacred Heart.” 

“Oh, that makes sense.” He nods. “Were you friends?”

“Through our parents.” You nod. “We never actually hung out. I went to a swim meet once, to cheer him on, but that was about it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Swim meets are so boring. I spent my entire life watching him do them.”

“Did you do any sports?” 

“Kinda, but not really. I went to a bunch of different clubs to see what I liked. I thought I was going to do volleyball, until they switched coaches. He hated me, so I quit and decided to focus on schoolwork and parties.” He laughs slightly.

“Well, at least that worked out.” You come to a stop in the road, landing right in the middle of the stalls. “You have your pick of the litter.”

“I’m going to be honest, I just want a burger.” He starts toward the line. “Do you want anything? It’s on me.”

You hum, thinking about it while you look at what’s on the menu. “How about a lemonade and fries?”

“Whatever you want.” He says. “What about you? What are you doing for college?”

“Medical field. I want to be a nurse.” You beam.

“A nurse, I can see it. Isn’t your dad a surgeon?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m impressed.” 

He tilts his head. “I did my homework.”

“Well, yes, he is. He’s an orthopedic surgeon.”

“I’ll be sure to call him doctor when I meet him for the first time.” Finnick winks, stepping forward to order.

You laugh, shaking your head at him. You were sure that this date would be hard, or at least awkward because it was set up between your mom’s, but Finnick’s got this easy demeanor that makes it hard for you to overthink. Which is another factor you were afraid of. You have a tendency to question every sentence on dates, not wanting to turn the guys away.

He doesn’t seem to care, and he’s asking you just as many. There’s an effort being put in, you’re not the only one interested. This thought causes a bubble of excitement to rise, forming a smile on your face.

It was a good thing you agreed to this date, because if you’d missed it for homework, you would’ve been upset with yourself for the rest of the week. And you’d never hear the end of it from your friends, who were telling you to give him a chance. 

“What’re you smiling about?” Finnick asks, passing over the lemonade so he can hold the fries and his burger.

“I’m just happy I’m here with you.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[beybaldes]

that which you cannot see

Simon Aumar x gn!reader

word count : 2.5k

summary : simon’s own insecurity blinds him to the feelings you reciprocate.

a/n : i know this isn't my usual djats content, and i should be working through requests lol, but i saw dnd;hat thursday and am now obsessed. expect more simon once ive worked through my djats stuff!!!

“I still can’t believe that he walked up and over the rock.” You hummed, thinking back on Xenk’s leave earlier in the day, laughter bubbling past your lips at the mental imagery of the action.

The five of you were gathered around the fire Holga had started on the beach, everyone having calmed down from Edgin’s earlier series of confessions and settling back into the playful group dynamic you’d so far formed on your adventure.

Your head was one more yawn away from settling onto Simon’s shoulder, your side already pressed against his, but the general chatter of the group was keeping you awake for now. Simon was completely flustered by your close proximity, your knee bumping against his every time you laughed at something Holga said, though he’d already prepared a list of reasons he could give as to why his face was flushed; namely that the hot flames were doing him no good.

Since Edgin had picked the two of you to join his adventure, there had been an unspoken thing between the two of you; you were always lingering a little too close to each other and were the first the other went to after a close call. As far as you, and the other three members of your group, were aware, you were courting. But to Simon, you weren’t there yet - him too scared to even mention the word in your presence less you reject him the same was Doric had.

That, combined with Simon’s general obliviousness, meant he didn’t notice any of the advances you’d made towards him, or the greater interest you showed him compared to your other companions. The same interest that had you now forgoing the conversation and leaning your head sleepily against his shoulder.

Silence came over Simon at the contact, his entire being stilling as you trusted him enough to rest on. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice until Edgin aimed a question at the two of you and he received no response. All of them now turned to face you both, surprised to find you fast asleep on Simon’s shoulder with him staring down at you in surprise.

“You owe me a sack of potatoes.” Holga chuckled, flicking at Edgin’s arm when he ignored her demand for her half of their bet.

“I don’t think i do, not yet at least.” He whispered back, taking in the look on Simon’s face. “Poor kid doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“Is this improper?” Simon asked, eyes unmoving from your finger which was curled into his side, your head snuggling deeper into the crook of his neck. “We’re not even courting.”

“Dammit.” Holga kicked her foot into the sand, knowing she’d have to wait another day without her precious prize of potatoes given the two of you weren’t formally courting yet. “Why aren’t you courting yet?”

“They do not think of me that way.” Simon sighed, eyes moving from you figure to look at his hands that had now started to nervously play with the hem of his cloak. “I’ve been told I’m quite the depressing person to be around.”

“They clearly like you, that included.” Edgin scolded, nudging his foot against Simon’s to grab his attention. “I think they’ve been pretty clear in their feelings for you, from the start of our journey.”

“No, no, I doubt it.” Simon had always been the worst believer in himself, and even though he so badly wanted what his friends were saying to be true, he wouldn’t believe it unless you yourself told him - and even then, he’d still find it hard to be true. “There are plenty of better men out there.”

“That doesn’t matter if all they want is you.” Edgin was sometimes wise, or maybe just a romantic at heart, but it would take a whole lot more then some sweet words to get the idea of courtship through Simon’s thick skull. “Besides, we’ve all seen how different things are between the two of you.”

Simon’s head shot up, to the amusement of his friends, confusion written across his feature. “What- what do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, you always ride together or walk together, even when we were in the under-dark, the first thing the two of you did when you thought we’d escaped that chubby, little dragon was reach for each other.”

“What he said.” Holga continued, biting into the potato she’d been carrying around with her, knowing she’d come to crave one eventually while she waited for her to win her and Edgin’s bet. “And you always look to them when your trying to cast a spell; when it goes right you look for them, when it goes wrong you look for them, and every time they’re already looking at you.”

“No. I don’t think so.” Had Simon really been so blind? Surely he wouldn’t noticed if his affections for you were returned; if he had he would’ve formally asked to court you already, so he supposed his friends were just reading into things. “I would’ve noticed. They would’ve said something.”

“You look at them like they hung the stars in the sky.” Doric whispered, heads snapping in her direction as she spoke up on the nature of her ex-courtship and his new love. “You care deeply, genuinely for them.”

“I care for all of you.” Simon asserted, offended by the suggestion he was treating you differently all because they thought - and correctly so - that he wanted to court you. “I treat y/n no different.”

Holga practically spat out her potato at the suggestion, throwing her head back with a cackle. “Now that is not true, and you and I both know it.”

“Leave the poor boy alone.” Edgin’s reprimanded, standing from his seat around the fire. “I suggest we get some rest, we have quite the journey to make come morning.”

Everyone else moved away slightly from the fire, giving each other space to sleep whilst not drifting too far from the warmth of the burning glow. Simon stayed in his place though, unsure of how to wake you, lest he wake you up only for you to be unable to sleep again. He settled on gently cradling your head in one hand, settling to scoop you from the log and lay you carefully in the sand. As he lifted you from your seat, into his arm, he stilled for a moment, admiring how good your features looked so close to his, everything about you accentuated by the glow of the dying fire. However, he must have stayed in his place for a moment too long, you stirring in your sleep and his almost dropping you in surprise.

“Simon?” You groaned sleepily, your voice thick and croaky as you woke. “What’s going on?”

“Oh! Hey! So…” Simon quickly got lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out how to explain how you’d ended up in this position. “Basically-“

“Can we just go to sleep?” You asked, tucking your head back into the crook of his neck, though this time somewhat consciously. That alone had heat rising to his cheeks once more. He had never been asleep since your abrupt arrival on the beach, but now you were pleading that the both of you slept - that had to mean something.

Or maybe you were just worried that he wouldn’t get enough rest for your journey tomorrow. Yeah, that was more likely.

“Of course we can, I’m sorry for waking you.” Simon rushed to put you comfortably on the ground, taking off his own cloak and covering you in it as though it were a blanket. He took his own position next to you, though not close enough that he’d be invading your personal space, he was close enough that he could be by your side in an instant if needed.

He didn’t realise just how cold it’d be on the seafront in the dark of night, but immediately brushed the though from his mind, knowing he’d rather have you warm then be warm himself.

“Get under here.” You grumbled from beneath his cloak, opening up a gap big enough for him to sliver himself into, right up against you. “You’ll be cold.”

“I’d rather be cold then improper.” He scolded, pushing gently on your hand to close the space you’d offered up to him, keeping the warmth in with you before the night air could risk it away.

“It’s not improper if we’re courting; and we practically are.”

Simon chocked on the very air he was breathing, turning to look at you in complete and utter shock. It was one thing to here it from his friends, but to hear it from you yourself? If he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d be quick to assume you were messing with him, in fear that he’d not be good enough to court with you.

“What?” He eventually managed to choke out, his eyes unmoving from your face that peaked out from beneath the collar of his cloak.

“Get under here, Simon. I won’t ask again.” The sorcerer still hesitated at your command, mind whirring at the fact you just said the two of you were ‘practically courting.’ He couldn’t think straight, let alone move to get under the warm cloak with you. “Simon?”

Though he could hear you, he couldn’t hear you - your calls of his name in worry going in one pointed ear and out the other without giving him the chance to process it.

“Simon!” You called once more, gaining his attention as, this time, your warm hands cupped his face, his cloak slipping down your form and puddling up in the sand.

Simon was quick to pull the cloak back over your shoulders, chastising you for letting it slip lest you catch a cold from the night air. His hands held it in place over your shoulders, worried now that you’d matched his sitting position it’d fall again the second he let go.

With his hands on your shoulders and yours cupping his face, the two of you had been brought dangerously close. So close, in fact, that he could feel the warm dust of your breath across his cheeks.

“I have a list.” He whispered into the space between you, eyes wide and face flushed as he spoke. “I wrote a list of why I would be a good courter. It’s in my pocket, but from the top of my head I can think of most of it, I think.”

World were tumbling from Simon’s lips as he did his best to seize the opportunity of a lifetime that sat in front of him. It’s not often the person he was interested in was interested in courting him back - let alone suggesting that the two of you were already courting.

“I can try and cast spells to protect you, I will always walk by your side or ahead of you to protect you from traps, I will give you my cloak when you get cold or to protect you from the rain. I can-“

You used the hands that were cupping his face to connect his lips to yours. You did your best to put all your feelings into the kiss, not getting offended by the lack of reciprocation on his behalf, knowing that he was just shocked. And within a minute, he was kissing you back, though hesitantly and with a great sense of unease to his actions, like he’d never done it before.

Now that you dwelled on it, there was a chance he never had done it before.

“I don’t care about the list.” You whispered against his lips, pressing chaste kisses to them between words. “I want you just as you are.”

Breathless, Simon stumbled through an attempt to question your words, knowing he himself would have his issues with him - so why wouldn’t you? “But what about-?”

You cut him off once more, pulling him in for yet another firm, passionate kiss; your head resting against his when you finally pulled away. He seemed just as stunned by that second kiss as he had been the first.

“Don’t care.” You whispered, pressing another chaste kiss, though this time, to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, and then the dimple that had appeared there. “Just want you.”

Now that was something Simon hadn’t heard before.

He no longer had the fire to use as an excuse for the warmth in his cheeks, it long dead and burnt out now, but he deemed he no longer needed excuses for the way you made him feel - not when you felt the same and declared it with such certainty.

“Oh. Cool.” Simon immediately grimaced at his words, wondering how on earth he’d picked that to say out of everything he could’ve said. That didn’t matter now though, he was sure he would have plenty of time going forward to tell you all this things he wanted to say, all the things he felt.

“You going to get under the cloak now or what?” You asked, a teasing lilt to your words that cracked a smile onto Simon’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I will, my love.” The words rolled so naturally from his tongue, as though he’d been born to say them, and to say them to you.

Once again, you lay down on the beach, opening up Simon’s own cloak to him and this time he hesitantly crawled inside the warm fabric. At first, his just lay with his side pressed tightly to yours, both of you half under the protection of the cloak. You quickly put an end to that, rolling onto your side and grabbing Simon’s arm, placing it gently over you and pulling him onto his side in doing so. Now the cloak rested comfortably over the both of you, the cold of the night no longer reaching you between the warmth of the fabric and the warmth of Simon’s hold.

Simon took a lot longer to drift off to sleep then you did, his mind moving at a million miles a second as he took everything that had happened today in. Not only had he ventured into the under-dark and been absolutely flung about by the helm of disjunction and his ancestor, but he’d somehow managed to court who he was sure was the love of his life.

A soft smile curled onto Simon’s lips as he let his head fall against the back of yours, curling into you and wrapping his arm tighter around you to keep you close to him. For the first time in a long time, the both of you slept soundly through the night, not stirring for anything or anyone: even when the following morning, Holga shrieked in glee at the sight of the two of you, crying out to Edgin-

“you owe me a sack of potatoes!”

[bisexualiteaa]

Ghoulish Kinda Love

John Hancock x Ghoul!Fem Reader (SMUT!! and some fluff!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! ghoul reader, chem usage, alcohol use, talks of discrimination, p in v, p0rn w/ some plot, slow burn, FEELINGS! Fingering, oral, (fem receiving) short handjob, unprotected sex, ghoul sex, riding, irradiated cream pie, cursing, fluffy ending, potential spelling/grammar errors, slight deviance from game

AN: I’m back partying people! Thank you to those who have put requests in regarding our charismatic ghoul companion Hancock! Been itching to write something for him and give him a little more love because there isn’t a lot out there for my boy Hancock, and he deserves all the love. ❤️ We won’t talk about the way I’d go to write this and each time I would, a sign telling me I need to “repent for my sins” would come up along the road lmao. 😭 Anyway, enjoy some fluffy smutty action with our man Hancock! Please go easy, I’m still relatively new to all things Fallout so if I goof up some stuff from the game, I do apologize, I’m still learning! But otherwise I do hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

Also I don’t own the rights to any music here, but there are a few songs if you’d like to enjoy them along with the moment for a more immersive experience!

You didn’t remember much from your life before the bombs dropped on that horrifically fateful day. You vaguely remember the taste of pie when you would bake it, or Mac ‘n cheese back when it was made with clean water and fresh hot off the burner. You even more vaguely remember the days of dressing really nice, now it was all you could to find something that was concealing enough to hide who you had become wandering along the commonwealth aimlessly. There was once purpose in your journey, once meaning behind it but not anymore, at least not one you could remember. Two hundred years is a long time to live, a lot of memories to hold, and when you’re spending a lot of that time trying to keep from turning feral it’s even harder to remember the trivial things like life without radiation exposure. It pained your heart to think about, to look at yourself in a mirror or your reflection in a passing puddle of radiated water. One thing you do remember is looking beautiful once upon a time, your once E/C eyes having turned a hazy black, your H/L, H/C having long since fallen out. Hell, the most noticeable part was that your nose was completely missing now, your leathery marred skin a sickly grey making you look like a walking corpse. You hated looking upon yourself now that you were a ghoul, you had been for a little over a century now, but it still always caught you by surprise.

t was one day upon your blind stumbling that you had entered a town called Goodneighbor, your bandana covering your face and large hat on to keep the fact that you were a ghoul slightly harder to point out lest it be anything like Diamond City was. You found out the hard way that day that a lot of places don’t take kindly to ghouls, and whether you were feral or not they tended not to want to chance it. You were just going to stroll through, minding your own business when a man stopped you on your way in. “Hey, hold up there. First time in Goodneighbor? Can’t go walkin’ around without insurance” spoke the gruff voice of a man who had just lit a cigarette in front of you, speaking with it sticking from the corner of his mouth before removing it and blowing the smoke in your direction. Asshole. “Unless it’s keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me insurance, I’m not interested” you stated, and he didn’t quite like the tone you were catching. “Now don’t be like that, I think you’re gonna like what I have on offer” he replied, making you roll your eyes at his persistence. Here we go. “You hand over everything you got in them pockets or “accidents” start happening to ya. Big, bloody, accidents” he threatened, and you didn’t take too kindly to it but by now, you were used to the casual threat being thrown your way, especially as a ghoul. You heard a gravely voice from off in the distance, almost as if he had just appeared from the alleyway between the buildings in behind the man haggling you. “Woah woah, now time out” the man spoke, wearing a black tri-corn hat and a stark red jacket with a white dress shirt underneath. What really caught you by surprise? He was a ghoul. “someone steps through the gate the first time, they’re a guest. You lay off the extortion crap” he finished, walking towards the man haggling you and the man almost seemed to meet him halfway as if he knew him. All you could do was stand there in awe. Holy shit, he was defending you, no one ever did that. “What’d you care? She ain’t one of us” the man spoke, his cigarette smoke still lingering in your nostrils from when he’d blown it in your face. “No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go” the ghoul said, standing his ground. Wait…did he say mayor? He was the mayor of this town? As a ghoul?? You were so flabbergasted to imagine such a thing, your kind were so hated, you could never have thought of a town being accepting enough to be run by a ghoul. Although you could tell by the body language this man in particular didn’t really care for the mayor, they looked as if they were getting ready to have a stand off. “You’re soft Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there’ll be a new mayor” the man, Finn countered. “Come on man, this is me we’re talkin about. Let me tell ya somethin’…” the ghoul, Hancock said, walking closer to Finn, looking as if he was stretching his hand out to place it on Finn’s shoulder but instead, reached for a knife, stabbing your haggler repeatedly in the stomach until he dropped to the ground at his feet. You were in shock, you’d seen people killed before, heck you’ve killed people yourself before because it was a kill or be killed kinda world out here, but never in the time you spent as a ghoul had anyone ever killed for you.

“Now why’d you have to go and say that, huh? Breakin’ my heart here” Hancock said to the man before looking to you. “You alright, sister?” He asked. “Your face…it’s like mine” was unfortunately all you could say, bringing your bandana down to show him. “Ya like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies” he said flirtatiously, his voice dipping a little lower, bringing out the gravely rasp to his tone and if you could blush still, you would have. You gave a smile and a giggle, enjoying his take on ghoulification. “I’m a ghoul, something I see we share. Lot of walkin’ rad freaks like us around here” he said, and you felt guilty for pointing it out and not thanking him first, but his next words put a warmth in your heart to hear. “Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone’s welcome” he said, and that made you smile because never had you been some place where you felt so welcome for being who you were. “Of the people, for the people? Oh brother…” you joked sarcastically, making him laugh. “I can tell I’m gonna like you already. Just consider this town your home away from home…so long as you remember who’s in charge” he said before starting to walk off, but you were so curious, had so many questions needing answers to, so you bothered and stopped him.

“What can I do for ya, newcomer?” He asked happily, making you almost clam up when you went to speak but you cleared your throat, working through your anxiety. “What’s your story, Hancock?” You asked kindly yet curiously. “My favorite subject. I came into this town about…a decade ago? Had a smooth set of skin back then. While I was busy making myself a pillar of the community, I would go on these…like…wild tears. I was young; any chems I could find, the more exotic the better. Finally found this experimental radiation drug, only one of its kind left, and only one hit” he said, and his story had you intrigued. “Oh man, the high was so worth it. Yeah I’m livin’ with the side effects but hey, what’s not to love about immortality?” He asked, making you chuckle. “Got its perks, its downsides too but hey, glad to finally see someone enjoyin’ it” you said, making him chuckle. “All that chem use definitely prepared you for a career in politics…” you quipped wittily, making him chuckle. “People respect me because I don’t put myself above them. I sling and shoot up just like the next guy” he said, and you respected that. “Hey, no judgement! I respect that” you replied. “Can you tell me more about this town of yours, Goodneighbor?” You asked. “It’s all about the people, understand? They’re freaks, misfits, and troublemakers and that’s why I love ‘em. Everyone here lives their own life, their own way. No judgements” he said proudly, making you smile happily to find yourself welcomed to such a wonderful place. It wasn’t anything crazy big or crazy busy, it was quaint and sweet, felt like home and that was a hard feeling to come by these days. This was the first time you’d ever been anywhere so accepting, so care free of looks or who you were or what you did. It felt good. Maybe this was what you’d been searching for all this time.

“I have a feeling you’ll fit in well here” he said with a warm and inviting smile to match his tone, making you smile hopefully, and it made him happy to see such a look on your face, to know he had helped someone who seemed to really need it. “Thank you, it’s so nice to finally be welcomed somewhere rather than forced out” you said, and he felt that pain, knew that a lot of other people who stayed in his town felt the same way. It warmed his heart to know that he could be a helping hand. You seemed really sweet, he hoped you’d settle in and stay a while, newcomers were always interesting around here but you piqued his interest just a little bit more than most others did.

So as you settled in over time, he got to know you a little bit more. You would often venture down to the bar, and you’d found Hancock there quite often, there you exchanged life stories, dreams, aspirations, regrets. It was nice, finally having human interaction for once with someone, someone who understood and someone who wouldn’t cringe or push you away when you spoke. Some nights, he’d put something on from the jukebox and ask you to dance with him, not caring about how bad either of you were in your drunken/high states. Did I mention you were chem buddies? Oh yeah. When night time came, or you’d find some chems while out scavenging the commonwealth for more supplies to help yourself, Hancock and the town, he was inviting you to his room on the state house to do them with him. For that time, you could just forget the world in its entirety, forget being a ghoul, forget it all. You would smile and laugh amongst each other as you told wild stories, flirted with one another, it was always a good time with him. You never had to worry, and you loved that. He was a safe place to just be yourself and he did the same, with absolutely no shame or judgement in sight.

There was one night in particular that you’d remember for the rest of your days, no matter how long you lived until. You were at the bar, talking and enjoying a few drinks with Hancock as you both typically spent your evenings, before you watched him saunter his way over to the jukebox, picking a song to play to dance with you to. As much as Fehr claimed she wanted no part in, or held any care in your growing relationship with the mayor, she couldn’t help but feel a little warmth and happiness deep down that Hancock had finally managed to find someone that made him happy. It was good to see him happy and well, to be carefree in the positive kind of way rather than just getting high in his room all the time. Of course he was still getting high, but it was with you, someone who kept him company, someone who he could confide in. You smirked as you recognized the song that was playing as he leaned against the jukebox, his eyes raking your figure as Oh, Pretty Woman began to play, urging you over to him to dance with him. How could you say no to a man with such charisma?

Pretty woman walkin’ down the street

Pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet

Pretty woman, I don’t believe you, you’re not the truth

No one could look as good as you

Mercy

He’d softly sang along with the song, his arm sliding around your waist to your back, swiftly and effectively pulling you against him, your hands resting against the ruffles along his white under shirt. You smiled up at him, knowing this was once again one of those times that if you could blush, you would. You’d never felt this way before, never felt so cared for, so wanted since you’d become a ghoul.

Pretty woman, won’t you pardon me?

Pretty woman, I couldn’t help but see

Pretty woman, that you look lovely as can be

Are you lonely just like me?

He continued to sing, just loud enough for you to hear, grabbing your hand and spinning you in front of him suavely before dipping you, unphased by anyone who could be looking on. You smiled as people clapped and stomped their feet to the beat as a way to hype you both up. You couldn’t help the fury of giggles leaving you as he did so, absolutely stunned by such a display.

Grrrow

He imitated right by your ear with a grin, making a shiver run down your spine at the way his raspy voice dropped in octave a little bit as he did. You gave an intrigued sound in response before a laugh bubbled up from your throat as you pulled his signature black, tri-corn hat off from his head in the process of standing back up, placing it on your own with a mischievous grin up at him that he mirrored back. He was good and he knew it, but you couldn’t just let him have this that easily, as much as you were down bad for him, you wanted to see him chase you a little bit. Needed to see if he was all talk or if his words and actions held meaning to them like you hoped they would.

Pretty woman, stop awhile

Pretty woman, talk awhile

Pretty woman, give your smile to me

Pretty woman, yeah, yeah, yeah

Pretty woman, look my way

Pretty woman, say you’ll stay with me

‘Cause I need you, I’ll treat you right

Come with me, baby, be mine tonight

He sang as you danced once more, grabbing your hands and twirling you to where your back pressed to his front for a moment before twirling you back, his fingers beneath your chin as you looked up at him at the end of the verse with a teasing grin. You sauntered away to the doorway towards the rooms before stopping there, turning to look over your shoulder at him as an invitation but stayed as you watched him sing.

Pretty woman, don’t walk on by

Pretty woman, don’t make me cry

Pretty woman, don’t walk away, hey

Okay

If that’s the way it must be, okay

I guess I’ll go on home, it’s late

There’ll be tomorrow night, but wait

What do I see?

Is she walkin’ back to me?

He sang as he watched your hand as it slid down from the doorway you propped up against before making your way back to him, getting just as excited to see you come back as the man singing the song claimed to be. He smirked, watching the sway of your hips as you walked towards him, giving a whistle as you did, his eyes roaming your body.

Yeah, she’s walkin’ back to me

Oh, oh, pretty woman

He finished, watching you loop your arms around his neck as his hands came to rest against your hips and god he’d never been more scared than fucking up this moment with you. Does he just hold you? Does he kiss you? Fuck, do you even feel that way about him? He figured with the way you two flirted, with the way you gave him bedroom eyes just a minute ago that you did, but he didn’t want to be an asshole and just assume either. Maybe he’d let you make the first move, place it in your hands to do with what you wish. That look in your eyes made him never want to look away, you looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. God how he adored you, he wanted you so badly, and not even in just the sexual way that he normally felt for women who piqued his interest now and again. You were really and truly different in his eyes. As people clapped and cheered on for you both, the tension in the air was broken momentarily, making you laugh happily as you looked out at everyone then back up at him. You smiled up at him, your heart racing as he looked at you with a smile that told him this was the moment. So he took the leap of faith, pulling his hat from your head and leaning down to kiss you, his hat concealing your lips that locked together softly. The on lookers gave a whistle and a cheer as they knew exactly what was happening, and you placed your hands on either sides of his face, pulling him to you to keep him there for just a little bit longer. He grinned into your kiss, his free hand coming to rest on your hip as all worries flew out the window the moment you enthusiastically pulled him in. There couldn’t have been a happier man to exist in that moment other than him, watching as he looked down at you with the most star struck look on his face. “What do you say you and me sneak off for the night, Mr. Mayor?” You asked, placing his hat back on his head and adjusting it for him with a smile. He gave a raspy chuckle at you using his title and what you were insinuating from your question. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t send an excited twitch straight to his cock. “I’d say I like the way you think, sunshine” he replied, making you smile and giggle at his enthusiasm. “Good answer” you replied. Guess it was a good thing you’d paid for your drinks already after all.

You followed him upstairs, to his room in the state house, closing the door behind you both as you walked in after him. You could still hear the jukebox playing music loudly, you smiled as you heard the next song playing from it. Coincidentally enough, it was perfect for a slow dance. His hand boldly came to rest on your waist as his free hand grabbed yours, your fingers intertwined together. “I know it might be cheesy but…now that we’re away from all the pryin’ eyes, I wanna do this right” he said, making you smile softly at him, doing your best to hide the giddy excitement bubbling inside of you that you hadn’t felt in centuries. “Would you…dance with me?” He asked, making you smile brightly as your arms looped around his neck and you looked up at him with a dreamy smile. “I’d be delighted to” you replied, making him smile back down at you. You hummed along with the opening of the song, knowing the melody that was being played.

Crazy, I’m crazy for feelin’ so lonely

I’m crazy, crazy for feelin’ so blue.

I knew, you’d love me as long as you wanted

And then someday, you’d leave me for somebody new.

You sang as you rest your head against his chest as you both swayed to the rhythm of the song. You closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth of him against you and the feel of his embrace. He gave a contented hum, getting to hear your lovely voice so close, and only for him in this moment. In this moment you weren’t the newcomer that everyone felt the need to gawk at every time you entered a room with him, as selfish as it made him feel but at the same time, in this moment he wasn’t the people’s either. He was yours, and you were his. For a moment the world felt at peace. For a moment, all time seemed to stop around you and it was just the two of you here. It was calming, intimate even. Intimate in a way that for the first time, wasn’t sexual for a change. The closest he’d really ever gotten to intimacy without sex was aftercare, and even then, it came after sex so therefore it was still involved. But this? This was nice. Having you in his embrace, your head against his chest, not a wrinkle of worry evident on your face, and his only worry being if his heart was racing too harshly or too loud for you to be able to withstand.

Worry, why do I let myself worry?

Wonderin’ what in the world did I do?

Crazy, for thinkin’ that my love could hold you.

I’m crazy for tryin’, and crazy for cryin’

And I’m crazy for lovin’ you.

You supposed the song wasn’t wrong in a way, most people would call you crazy for falling in love with a ghoul, or trying to fall in love period as a ghoul. Most people knew them by the characteristic lack of smooth skin, sunken in and marred skin, missing noses and the potential that they turn feral at any moment. You would never listen to that though, as a ghoul you knew you came with ups and downs, but you never let that stop you from seeing the best in others just as you’d hope they would some day do for you in return. After all, you and John both have had your fair share of run ins with feral ghouls in your time traveling together, you both knew what to look out for. John wasn’t one of them, and he knew neither were you. It never mattered to you what someone looked like, you only cared whether they would care for you in return the same way you care for them. How big their heart is, how they treat you and others around them. John was a good man, you knew this from the first moment you met him. Sure, the first moment you’d met him he killed someone, but he killed someone who was trying to harm and haggle you the moment you first step foot into what you’d learned to be his town. He did it to protect you. He looks out for his people, wanting, and doing only what is best for them, helping them any way he can. Of the people, for the people he’d always say. It was that drive, that selflessness that attracted you to him, but also that he didn’t discriminate like the rest of the world seemed to. You couldn’t care less about how his skin was marred from the years of radiation exposure, how a deep hole sits where his nose once did. You saw John for the man he is, the heart he has, not just as the ghoul everyone else does. That’s what made you so likable in his eyes, you never judged. You never held a distaste for the fact that you were a ghoul, that he was one, or that you were surrounded by your fellow people of Goodneighbor who were also mostly ghouls. You had a good outlook on things but weren’t too gullible to be taken advantage of, something that not many people had these days. He also appreciated the way you never judged his habits. Never once in the amount of times that he would take a hit of jet, or pop a couple of mentats, hell even on the rare occasional use of psycho, did you ever once judge him. You didn’t have to partake with him, he’d never force you to, but the fact that you didn’t cringe when he would, the fact that you would never chew him out for it as if he didn’t know the consequences of his own actions. You respected him, respected his way of living, just as he respected you and yours.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes light up as they met his with a smile spread across your lovely, maybe slightly chapped, lips. He smiled down at you, his hand leaving yours to cradle your cheek as he looked upon you with astonishment. How could someone like you, so loving, so caring, choose him? In a world full of people, granted he knew from experience that the pickings amongst those of the surface were less than stellar, yet you still chose him. A ghoul, when there are people out there that are still far more human looking. Hell, he was sure you could make a synth even grow a heart if you wanted it to and looked upon one the way you looked at him. Sure he would tease you for liking him, for befriending him, but it warmed his heart to know that out of anyone out there, you chose him as your battle partner, him to adventure with. He only hoped deep down that that friendship could be more.

And almost as if someone out there was listening to his thoughts, had heard his silent prayers, he watched as your eyes flickered between his hazy black ones and then to his thin, marred lips, with a look he recognized well. This was the moment that would lead to it all, the moment he’d been waiting for, dreaming about since starting to travel with you and partake in your company. It was truly all or nothing now.

Crazy, for thinkin’ that my love could hold you.

I’m crazy for tryin’, and crazy for cryin’

And I’m crazy for lovin’…

You.

He smiled a little wider when your hand came to cradle his cheek like he was doing with you as you were singing, pulling him even closer to you, if it was possible. Before he knew it, as you sang the last word of the song, your lips found their way to his once more, pressing gently against his own but with confidence and passion that showed him you wanted this. That you wanted him. His hand that was on your cheek soon came to rest against the back of the one you had on his, keeping you as close as he could get but also ensuring that this was real. He needed to know that this wasn’t a dream or some jet fueled fantasy he was in. And to his surprise and delight, it was in fact real. He reciprocated the kiss, finally breaking out of his momentary shock to pull you against him, your chests flush together as his other hand gripped your hip. You smiled into it as his tongue prodded at your lower lip, asking kindly to deepen the kiss into something more passionate. You opened, allowing it and allowing the moment to carry you both to wherever it may lead. Your free hand came to rest against his chest, fingers toying with the ruffles of his undershirt beneath the red jacket he always wore, earning a low, gravely groan from him that rattled his chest. As you both parted for air, he looked down to see that beautiful half lidded expression as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Tell me I’m not dreamin’” he said, breathlessly, almost as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. His response made you chuckle. “I’d be really pissed if I was, that or damn impressed by what the chems you have can do” you quipped, making him laugh. “Me too. You feel real…real nice too” he complimented, his head ducking down to place small chaste kisses against your neck, always the charmer. You giggled. “Then I’d say it’s real” you replied, and those were the words he wanted to hear. He chuckled softly as he exhaled, relieved to know it was real.

He smiled but you could tell there was something eating at him, something he hadn’t said yet. You’d known Hancock long enough in the time you’d spent getting high with him and traveling the commonwealth with him to know his cues. Part of him hated the way that you could tell something was off, after all, he always wanted to keep this aloof front, like nothing ever bugged him but you knew that wasn’t true. Something was bugging him now. “There’s uhh…there’s something I need you to hear” he started, making you part enough to give him space, but not too far to make him feel like you weren’t there for him or put off by what he’d said. “Is everything alright?” You asked, concern in your tone that maybe you might have overstepped a boundary or assumed something incorrectly. “Oh yeah, better than that. This is just…tricky” he replied before giving a sigh, as if trying to get the tension to release from him with one breath. “It’s just, being out there with you, it’s made me realize. Most of my life to this point, I’ve been runnin’ out on the good things I got” he answered, but you could tell he wasn’t done yet, he had more to get off of his chest. “I skipped out on my family, my life in Diamond City. Took up with you just to get outta Goodneighbor. Hell, runnin’ from myself is what made me into…into a damn ghoul” he added, sounding upset at himself, and you wanted so badly in that moment to reach out and take his hand, do something to comfort him, but you wanted him to finish as to not overstep or rudely cut him off. “But bein’ here with you, for the first time in my life, things have just felt…right” he added, making you smile softly at that. You were happy you could be help and a good friend to him, even if you deep down wanted more than that. “And running? It’s the furthest thing from my mind. I mean, I left Goodneighbor thinkin’ I was just gonna sharpen up the ol’ killer instinct. But whether it’s fate, or destiny, or just god damn coincidence, I ended up with someone like you” he continued, making you smile once again, even brighter this time at him as you imagined a soft pink would have flushed to your cheeks had you had a smoother set of skin. “I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I’d done something I could hang my hat on. But being out there with you, it’s made me realize just how small time I’d been thinkin’. And that maybe all my running, from my life, myself…maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all” he confessed, making you look slightly confused as to what he’d said.

“Running from yourself? What do you mean?” You asked, making him chuckle a bit as he thought of what to say to both be honest but also lighten the slightly damper mood up a little bit. He needed to see that smile back on your lips, when you smiled at him, it was like the world was no longer in shambles. He needed that, right now and until the end of his days because he swore no high from any chem out there compared to the one you’d give him. “Well, I didn’t always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a ghoul, I knew what it was going to do. I just couldn’t stand lookin’ at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore” he replied, making your heart break for him that he felt that way about himself, under all that confidence. “The coward who’d let all those ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys. If I took it, I’d never have to look at him again. I could put all that behind me. I’d be free. Didn’t seem like a choice at all” he added. “Turns out it was just me runnin’ from somethin’ else in my life” he continued, sounding ashamed for his actions and his past, and you understood better than anyone what that felt like. You stepped a little closer to him to grab his hand in yours, an offering of comfort. “Hey, it doesn’t matter what you did. All that matters is what you do from here on out” you said confidently, something you always told yourself to keep your head high and keep going, making him chuckle. “I know a lotta bookies that’d disagree with you. But I feel what you’re gettin’ at. So let me get to the point” he said, grabbing your other hand in his as he looked at you, eye to eye now to show you what he was about to say next was very important to him.

“Throwin’ in with you, has been the best decision I ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing…which happens sometimes when you’re a ghoul” he started, making you chuckle as you too knew that feeling all too well by now. “If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in the gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by radroaches. You’ve been one hell of a friend” he said, making you smile and chuckle at that, before you looked down at your hands held together, working up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing your mind for ages now. This was it, this was the moment. “Have you…ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” You asked skittishly almost, hoping he’d say yes, praying he felt the same way. A part of you felt deep down like he did, call it hope, call it whatever, but you were never fully sure where you guys stood. You two flirted like he held interest, he looked out for you, invited you along for things that he’d really never invite anyone else to other than maybe Fehr, but it felt different when it was with you. There was a connection between you, that was undeniable, but what type of connection you were never sure of. He gave a chuckle at your question. “It that obvious? But c’mon, you don’t wanna wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for” he replied, joking in that self deprecating manner he always did but answering your question nonetheless. “Hey, who I fall for is my decision, and I’ve fallen for you” you replied softly but with confidence, showing him that you meant it. “Wouldn’t expect that kinda lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” He asked with a happy smile, chuckling once more but you could tell that that comment did wonders to help him feel more at ease. “Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky” he added, making you chuckle in response as you came closer, looping your arms around his neck once again. “Sure you do. You deserve the world in my eyes, John” you said softly, genuinely as you looked up at him, your eyes promising nothing but love and support for his any and every endeavor. “I don’t need the world sunshine. I got you, what else could I need?” He replied, making you giggle as you rest your head against his chest. “So everything is okay between us then?” You asked, making him give a raspy huff in amusement. “I got you, everything else is just details and drug paraphernalia” he said, making you smile warmly as you chuckled once again at his corny line before leaning up and kissing him once more.

It wasn’t long before silence fell over the room long enough to hear the music playing from the jukebox once more. Once again, as if someone had been listening, it was a rather slow, very romantic song playing through the speakers.

Blue moon you saw me standing alone.

Without a dream in my heart,

Without a love of my own.

Blue moon, you knew just what I was there for.

You heard me saying a prayer for,

Someone I really could care for.

And then there suddenly appeared before me

The only one my arms will ever hold.

I heard somebody whisper “Please adore me”

You smiled into it as you both very quickly got swept back up into the moment with each other, his hands traveling the expanse of your curves slowly and softly, mapping out the valleys and plains of your body and to feel you against him. A mischievous grin took the place of the more innocent smile as you pulled away, gently pushing Hancock back to sit on his bed. He gave an equally mischievous grin and chuckle at your actions as you separated enough to take his hands and use them to slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders, allowing it to begin to fall down your frame. He gave a chuckle before whistling once it slipped from you, sitting in a red pool on the floor, leaving you in just your underwear as you stepped out of the discarded dress and straddled his lap on the bed.

And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold!

Blue moon!

Now I’m no longer alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

He grinned, his hands resting on your hips as yours sat on his collarbones, pulling him into another heated kiss. “Fuck…” was all he could manage to mutter into it, making you giggle as your hands wandered his frame. You smiled as you pulled back to enjoy the almost drunk look on his face as he drank you in. It was as if he didn’t know where to look or touch first, he was normally smooth and suave when it came to this sort of thing, but you were different than the rest. “You’ve got a wonderful way of making this ol’ ghoul feel like her old self again with that look” you replied, making him chuckle before clearing his throat. “What’s not to like there, sunshine? All I see is a badass, very beautiful woman sitting in front of me” he said, moving his hips against you and that told you all you needed to know as you chuckled before littering kisses down his scarred neck. “It ain’t exactly pretty underneath all this, you sure you still wanna do this?” He asked, making you look back up at him. “You kidding? Of course I do. Looks ain’t everything ya know” you said, making him laugh. “Says the model” he quipped, and you had to admit that it was sweet that he regarded you that way, but you knew you were no model. What you were though was true to your words when you undid the buttons to his undershirt and coat. You gave a laugh at his flirtation. “Yeah, maybe if a model spent too much time in a tanning bed” You replied, making him chuckle as you continued to litter your kisses down his chest after disposing of his top and coat, then down his stomach, and soon to where his pants sat at his hips. “Still gorgeous all the same to me” he said, and that made your heart flutter in your chest to hear. You couldn’t help the smile that painted your lips as you situated yourself on your knees between his legs.

Damn what a sight it was he’d thought to himself, seeing you on your knees before him, eagerly undoing the flag he used as a belt to free him from them and his briefs. You grinned up at him, getting them down and off, doing the same with your underwear, then happily taking your seat back on his lap. He gave a playful tap against your ass as you got situated, enjoying the nice handful that most ghouls weren’t blessed to still have once they’d reached this point. “I think you’re very handsome, John” you said genuinely, and god he could just melt from your compliments and tone. A moan rips from both of your throats as you grind against him, your slick cunt gliding along his length. “Fuck, oh no sweet cheeks, we’re doing this the right way” he said, making you cock your head to the side confused before he picked you up and put you on your back on the bed. You gave a playful yelp as he did before giggling as your back hit the mattress. “Wanna feel you and taste you first, get you all worked up. Somethin’ tells me you’re a sight to see when you’re all crazy for me” he said, making you swear you could actually blush for once as you let out a way louder moan than you meant to when one of his fingers grazed up and down your slit and found your clit almost immediately, drawing tight circles. Your hand clasped to your mouth immediately, knowing the walls were likely paper thin, but John seemed to have a better solution. He moved your hand away, leaning down to pull you into a heated kiss once more, muffling your moans to where they were just loud enough for him and him alone. It had been so long since you’d felt the touch of another, your scars usually keeping you from finding someone to help scratch that itch. There was the occasional crazy you’d run into that were hell-bent on trying to sleep with a ghoul to find out what it was like. You avoided those people the best you could because something told you that necrophilia didn’t exactly sit very highly on their never to do lists.

Soon his fingers moved down to prod at your entrance, pushing in slowly to allow you the chance to accommodate the intrusion. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his roughly textured fingers began to piston in and out of you in a steady rhythm, sure to graze your walls to find that spongy bundle of nerves that would leave you crying his name. “Fuck, John…” you moaned, earning a low gravely groan from him. The way you said his name so salaciously went straight to his cock and made his head swim with all the ideas of how he could get you to say his name like that more. Soon his lips mimicked what you’d started earlier on him, trailing down your neck, stopping to tease and nip at your sensitive spots before moving down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your arms flew to cling around him, nails digging small crescent shapes into his back as you bit your lip so hard you were scared it would bleed. You were far more sensitive than you thought you’d be, even after ghoulification, apparently the loss of touch still left you as needy as before. “So good for me” he praised, making you whimper as his kisses dipped lower and lower. “Wanna taste you. Gotta know if you taste as sweet as you sound” he said, shifting in between your legs, kissing the insides of one of your thighs leading up to your sex before skipping to your other one, leaving you on edge. “John, don’t tease…” you mewled, making him chuckle at how eager you were. “You’re so cute, hard not to when you sound like that, sunshine” he replied before seeing just how wet you were for him. A sound of intrigue left him as he looked at his fingers once he withdrew them from you. “Tell me, this all for me?” He asked, pulling his fingers out and showing you your slick that clung to his fingers as he separated them, making you whine as you shake your head. “Yes, all for you John, please…” you begged, making him smirk as his fingers slid back inside of you with little resistance, and his tongue finally making contact against your sensitive clit. Your body arched off the bed for a moment, biting back another loud cry as his tongue started to circle your clit. “Fuck! Oh my god” you let out, making him chuckle as the pads of his fingers found your g-spot, rubbing it as his tongue drew all sorts of letters and shapes along your sensitive bud. Your breathing started to turn ragged, your mind blank, you could hardly think of anything other than the whispered expletives and cries of his name that left your lips like a mantra. “Keep sayin’ my name sweetheart, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good” he said with a cocky grin as he dove back into you like a man starved. To think, he could’ve had this the entire time you’d been traveling together, he was at least lucky to have it now.

“Just like that, just like that! Fuck…” you moaned, feeling the ache in your lower stomach start to burn and grow taut. It had been so long since you’d been with someone, and even longer since you’d been with someone who actually could help you reach your peak. Your hips began to buck selfishly against his fingers and tongue, making him moan into you as you used him. “That’s it baby, use me. Wanna hear that pretty mouth moan my name when you cum” he said, making you focus on chasing that high, god you were so fucking close, you could feel it. He peered up at you, watching as your face contorted with pleasure, calculating and changing his movements based on your expressions and sounds. You gasped as he started to draw tight circles around your clit with his tongue, curling his fingers inside of you to rub your g spot once more. “John I…fuck, I think I’m gonna- John!” You moan in warning the best you could before your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, sending your back arching off the bed and your thighs squeezing and trapping his head between your legs. He moaned into you as your body was savaged by what felt like every nerve ending lighting on fire all at once. He couldn’t care less if you suffocated him like this, even with no nose to get caught or crushed, he’d consider it an honorable way to go out. You tried to steady your breathing as best you could, finding it hard to open your eyes even, but when you did, you realized he was still trapped between your legs. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” You apologized, opening your legs to let him free and breathe, whining as his fingers left you with that disappointingly empty feeling. “Don’t you dare apologize, being crushed between these is one hell of a dream come true” he said, making you roll your eyes playfully and laugh at his response. Your hand reached out to yank him back up onto the bed, finding your spot once again straddling him. He groaned low in his throat as your hands stroked him, his one hand resting on your hip, squeezing every now and again. “Drivin’ me crazy here sunshine, might just be enough to make me turn feral if you’re not careful” he said, making you chuckle as you kissed him once more, your taste still heavy on his tongue but you didn’t care. You delighted in the moans coming from him as your tongues fought for dominance over each other. Your head dipped into the crook of his neck, peppering kisses along his neck and collarbone. “Need you so bad, John” you said, voice no louder than a breathless whisper as he chuckled. “I dunno, judging by your reaction I figured my mouth was enough. I’m just kiddin’. Think you can handle it, sweet cheeks?” He asked, making you grin as you lined him up to your entrance, slowly working your way down onto his member. “You tell me” you challenged in response as he stretched you open, fuck it’s really been a long time. “Touché- fuuucckk. Goddamn baby…” he groaned as your needy cunt slowly sucked him in, careful to stop once he’d fully sheathed inside of you. “Fuck…” you panted, feeling him fill you entirely, his tip nudging the apex of your cervix.

“It’s uhh…it’s been quite a while since the last time I did this, but I wanna make you feel good” you said, and that ruined him entirely. How could someone so sweet be speared on his cock right now? He’d never know but he’d thank every god out there until the end of his days for it. “That’s alright baby, just not sure I have it in me to be gentle or stop once I’ve started there sugar” he said, grabbing your hips to help you start a good pace, leaving you to moan loudly as his cock nudged your cervix. “Don’t care, gentle can come some other time. Fuck, you feel so good…” you moaned as you met his hips with your own thrusts, taking over and setting the pace as you bounced up and down on his lap. “Love the way you think babe. Shit… tell me what you need sunshine” he said between pants and the sounds of your hips slapping together. “Need you, need you so bad John, please” you begged, trying your best to keep quiet but you both knew that ship sailed a while ago. Whenever your legs grew tired, he was there to grip your hips and help you move, making your eyes roll once again to the back of your head as you’d moan. When you would tip your head back, he’d lean his forward to catch one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking at it to pull you closer to the edge.

He pistoned his hips up into you, all sense of restraint and control lost in the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped tightly around him. You gasped as you felt that sensation in your lower stomach again, getting tighter and tighter as he worked you both to your peak. “Yes! Fuck, so close, don’t stop!” You moaned, making him chuckle deviously. “Wouldn’t dream of it sugar, feel too good to stop” he replied through gruff grunts and soft moans into your shoulder before parting to look down to where your bodies were connected and watch as he disappeared inside of you. “Look at that, that’s a pretty sight” he said, praising the way you’d take all of him with ease and the way your thighs would jiggle as you hungrily bounced on his dick. His eyes raked up your frame to rest on your face, delighted to find your eyes rolled back once your were seated on him, then half lidded when you’d come up, and that happily little cock-drunk smile on your lips before it’d drop to let out a blissful moan. You were music to his ruined ears, and like the chems he took before this, he just couldn’t get enough. His thumb found your clit once more, earning a surprised jump and moan from you as he rubbed it to help you tip over the edge. He couldn’t just let himself cum before his girl did, what kind of man would that make him? Not a very good one at all, he reasoned. Before you knew it, you were toppling over that edge again, holding tightly onto him as your walls spasmed and fluttered around him before squeezing him tightly, making him moan as your release sparked his own. He moaned into your neck as you threw your head back with a lascivious moan, enjoying the pleasant sensation of him filling you up whilst his hands held you seated in his lap. You gave a contented hum, enjoying the feeling of being so full of love, of him. You smiled as he looked back up at you, kissing you sweetly and gently as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you with his cum leaking down your thighs. He was a man of many capabilities, and certainly was one capable of making you happy in many different ways.

“And to think, I’d been missin’ out on all this this whole time” he joked, making you laugh as you got up to fetch a wet rag to clean yourself and him off with. “Well, now you know” you teased, a grin resting on your face as he snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. He rested his chin along your shoulder as you stood in the connected bathroom, debating on whether you wanted to have a nice bath, or if you just wanted to lay in bed and cuddle with him to bask in the after glow. “Don’t know which is more addicting; you, or the chems” he said, knowing damn well that you were far more addicting to him but he enjoyed the playful way it’d get you to respond. “Tough competition, guess I’ll have to let you do me as often as the chems” you said, looking at him from over your shoulder and making him laugh at your dirty comment. “Don’t threaten me with a good time” he said, mischief evident in his tone as you felt something press against your rear. With the devious glint in his eyes and a grin to match, he led you back to his bed. Clearly he needed to test your offer.