#<- she says after wanting to tear her heart out when he was about to abandon the Tontottas

[hoshifighting]

omg hiiii, thank you sm for writing like all of the writing pieces are so insane and so good, can i request overstimulated reader to the point of crying (but on comfort level, ofc) with joshua our gentleman. have a good day <3

joshua overstimulating reader

a/n: thank you for all the love <3

WARNINGS: smut, vibrator, leg restraint, mentions of aftercare, dirty talk, a bit of dumbification, praising

“oh, poor baby,” joshua coos, his voice syrupy sweet, like he's trying to comfort you who is currently trembling and barely holding it together. "what's wrong, princess? too much?"

your legs twitch against the restraints, uselessly tugging, and your head is shaking no-no-no because it’s too much, but you’re also nodding because if he stops now, you’ll probably cry for a different reason. the vibrator against your clit is relentless, buzzing away, and your whole body is trembling, overstimulated to the point where tears are streaking down your cheeks.

“aww honey, look at you,” he hums, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty face like you’re some kind of fragile artwork. “so pretty when you cry for me. you like being like this, huh? all dumb and desperate?”

you let out this broken sob, trying to arch your back, trying to do anything to escape or chase more—honestly, you don’t even know anymore. his fingers trace your thigh, featherlight, but you flinch like he’s shocking you.

“shh, shh,” he soothes, though there’s nothing soft about the smirk on his lips. “my princess is so sensitive, isn’t she? such a good girl, taking everything i give her.”

“shua—!” you gasp, voice cracking as another wave of pleasure punches through you. your hips buck uselessly, your thighs straining against the restraints, and you don’t even realize you’re crying harder until he reaches out to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“shh, baby, it’s okay,” he coos, his thumb pressing gently against your trembling bottom lip. “all messy, all mine. you wanted this, didn’t you?”

“yes,” you manage to choke out, voice barely audible over the sound of the vibrator and your own wrecked whines.

“good girl,” he praises, and fuck, the way he says it makes you clench around nothing, your body shaking even harder. “you’re so good for me. so perfect, letting me use this pretty little body of yours.”

his hand slides down, grazing your overstimulated core, and you let out this wrecked, high-pitched noise that makes him chuckle. “but you’re so dumb right now, aren’t you, baby? can’t even think straight, huh?”

you shake your head, another sob ripping from your throat, and he looks so fucking pleased with himself, like this is exactly where he wanted you—completely undone, totally at his mercy.

“my pretty little princess,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead so sweetly it makes your heart ache. “you’re doing so well for me. just a little more, okay? you can take it, can’t you?”

“i—i don’t—i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he cuts you off, his voice firm but still kind, like he’s talking you through a particularly rough workout. “you’re my strong girl, remember? my good girl. you can give me one more, right? i will help you. shua will cuddle with you after you cum one more time, what do you think?”

the thought makes you whine while you chase the vibrator and his hand at the same time. he smiles widely when he notices that the thought of cuddling with him excites you this much.

[jjungkookislife]

Third Time's the Charm

pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x ex-gilfriend!reader

genre: crack, exes to lovers

summary: Jungkook will do whatever it takes to get you back.

wc: 727

warnings: funeral, some cursing, some hitting

date: January 4, 2025

“You know he’s faking it again, right?” Jimin whispers as he looks around the room of tearful actors. He tugs at the black tie around his neck. His shoes squeak on the linoleum and his suit bunches on the chair as he turns to look at you.

“What if he’s not?” You hiss in response as you sniffle, wiping your nose with a tissue. The black dress you’re wearing itches, and you’re upset it's the third time you’ve had to throw it on for a funeral. Jungkook’s funeral.

“Don’t you find it weird that his mom isn’t here?” Jimin asks with a raised brow as he notes the absence of the older woman. 

“He wouldn’t do this a third time,” you respond, but as you look around the funeral home, you notice the lack of family and friends. 

“I’m gonna go steal the chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen. Come get me when it’s over,” Jimin says as he adjusts his tie. “And don’t fuck him in the casket like last time.”

“Hey!” You gasp, smacking his bicep repeatedly. “I told you that in confidence!”

“And now we’re back here,” Jimin scoffs. “I’m sure he’s getting a discount. He’s even got the same casket. It’s a sham, babe.”

“Go steal the cookies,” you huff as you wipe a tear from your eyes. “Get the fudge brownies, too.”

“On it!” Jimin grins, kissing your cheek before he steps out of the room and heads toward the kitchen, already familiar with the funeral home’s layout. 

When you look forward, Jungkook is sitting up holding the top of the casket, a frown on his face. 

“You brought another man to my funeral?” Jungkook asks, pouting. 

Bolting up from your seat, you stomp your way over to him, smacking him with your purse. 

“Really, Jungkook?!” You scream as the actors disperse. 

“Ow! Baby, that hurts!”

“Get your ass out of there! I had to take half the day off work to come here again!” You hit him again with your purse.

Jungkook chuckles, wiggling his dark eyebrows. “You took time off work for me?”

“Jungkook!”

“Okay, okay!” He exclaims as he gets out of the casket with practiced ease.  

“I just wanted you to come see me,” he explains. You roll your eyes as you walk away from him, noting the way the lobby has cleared. You’re sure the only one left in the building is Jimin stealing milk and cookies from the kitchen. 

“Why didn’t you just send me an email like last time?”

“Because you blocked me on it, even the email you use for shopping,” Jungkook pouts. His doe eyes nearly get you.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and huff out a breath. “I can’t keep doing this, Jungkook.”

“I know,” Jungkook nods. “It’ll be different this time. I promise. Besides, I can’t afford another funeral.”

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he spins around to the entrance. 

“Mama Jeon,” you grin slyly. “How lovely to see you.”

“Thank you for calling me, sweetheart. I see my son is up to his shenanigans again,” she sighs as she stomps her way to Jungkook, grabbing him by the ear. Jungkook bends down, whining.

“You called my mom?” he asks, astounded.

“I did.” you cross your arms over your chest. “I had to make sure she knew what you were up to.”

“She’s gonna kill me!” Jungkook frowns as he scrolls through his contacts on his phone.

“Suits you right,” you grumble as you head for the door.

“Baby, wait!” Jungkook calls after you just as he tries to escape his mother’s hold. It’s no use, she holds him by the ear, scolding him as she drags him to the casket. She shoves his face into it, screaming about the heart attack she nearly had when she pulled up to the building. She was rabid as she swung her purse and knocked down the large photo of Jungkook on the stand beside the casket.

You giggle as you head for the exit.

Jimin runs towards you, hands full of Ziploc baggies holding the desserts.

“Run, bitch!” He cackles. “The staff caught me!”

You make a run for it as the staff chase after you. You laugh when you speed out of the parking lot, tires screeching to announce your departure.

You unblock Jungkook later that night.

Come over tonight.

[hvnlygrl]

can u pls pls pls write this, nobody is taking my rqs.

so basically jj/rafe comforting reader bc shes crying after he overstimulated her as a punishment for spending time w pogues/kooks and her touchy bsf jj/rafe

hold me now.

pairing — rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

word count — 1.4k

warnings — overstimulation, rafe gets in his feelings, reader cries, mention of throwing up, hurt/comfort, brief smut (minors dni), p in v.

synopsis — you’ve been spending too much time around the pogues, and more specifically around your touchy best friend jj and rafe funnels his jealousy into your sex life. he goes too far and he hates himself for it.

notes — i love this request idk why nobody else wants to write it 😭 hope you’re okay with me picking rafe for the pairing ive been wanting a rafe request 💌

you’d known jj since you were four years old, his dad living right next door to your mom. you grew up together, learned how to ride bikes on the same day, were there for each other’s first heart breaks in elementary school and fought off the other’s bullies without a second thought. to you, he was the brother you never had, and to him, you were his entire world. he’d never admit it to anyone but he was positively in love with you.

jj had no idea when his love for you turned into more than it was in the beginning, but he couldn’t deny to himself the feelings he held for you. and to your boyfriend, rafe, it was obvious. 

rafe felt the rage building in his chest as he watched jj wrap his arms around you, a grin across his lips as you laughed and laughed. he couldn’t hear what jj said that was so funny, but judging by your laugh, it was probably some inside joke about some niche topic that he wouldn’t be able to begin to understand. 

rafe tried not to be the overbearing type with you, knowing that it brought you great stress as it reminded you of the relationship you witnessed between your parents growing up, but he just couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel to you and jj. he knew it was trivial, and that you would never in a million years be the type of person to cheat on him, but he also feared that if it came down to it, you would choose jj over him. 

rafe knew he couldn’t yell at you or cuss you out over it, because ultimately it wasn’t your fault. but he had to do something to stop himself from bursting at the seams with everything he was holding in. it drove him insane that he couldn’t do anything about the close relationship you held with the pogue, but he had to find another alternative. 

so he funneled his frustrations into your sex life. 

you lied there, looking up at him with big doe eyes as he drilled into you harshly, one hand gripping the bed frame above you as the other held onto your hip tightly. 

you cried out, eyes rolling back as he continued his momentum, growing closer and closer to yet another orgasm as he fucked you. you wouldn’t say that it hurt, because it didn’t hurt per se, but you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the way he was fucking you tonight. 

“r-rafe-” you whined desperately, hand reaching up to dig into his bare chest. 

“yea?” he breathes out through a groan, head turned up toward the ceiling as he brings himself closer to his own orgasm. 

you whimper as another climax rushes over you without warning. rafe doesn’t realize how overstimulated you are until tears begin flowing from your eyes. he sees the look on your face and wants to punch himself. you look so fragile, face turned away from him as he quickly pulls out, backing away from you as he catches his breath. 

“baby,” he reaches out toward you, heart aching when you turn further away from him, curling into yourself. “babe?”

you groan in response, naked body folded as tightly into itself as humanly possible. 

he hangs his head as he makes his way to the bathroom. rafe nearly throws up when he hears your delicate sobs emanating from the bedroom. “fuck,” he whispers as he looks in the mirror at himself. his chest and back are covered in scratches, his cheeks red and blotchy, and his hair completely askew. 

he has no idea when he got so carried away with everything, or when it became too much for you and he wants to throw his head through the wall at the fact that he didn’t notice. he should’ve noticed that he was taking it too far with you. 

rafe quickly finishes himself off in the bathroom, heart in his throat as he returns from the bathroom with a damp washcloth. he watches you breathe in and out slowly and deeply, trying to stop yourself from crying further.

you genuinely had no idea why you were crying, but you couldn’t get yourself to stop. you weren’t even upset in the slightest, you just were so overwhelmed that your body was having a visceral reaction to anything and everything at this point. 

rafe threw a pair of boxers and sweatpants on and grabbed you your favorite comfy shorts and one of his shirts and a pair of loose cotton panties. he carries the clothes over to the edge of the bed and kneels beside you. 

“baby?” he reaches out to you again, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you don’t shy away from him. “can i clean you up?” 

you nod pitifully, body still tensed as he gently opens your legs again to wipe at your sensitive area. you whimper, unable to prevent the tears from flowing yet again when the cloth touches your clit. “s’too much.” 

“i know,” he whispers, “i’m so sorry, my love, i went too far, i should’ve paid attention to you and how you were feeling.” 

you want to comfort him, but part of you knows that nothing you can say will even begin to ease the thoughts in his mind. rafe had done countless hours of therapy to try and be better for you, and you knew that to him, this was a major setback. 

“i love you,” you whisper back, “it’s not your fault.” 

he leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, “i love you. thank you.” 

you hum in response, body feeling like jello as he pulls the clothes he picked out for you over your body. he adjusts you so that you’re comfortably sat under the comforters, back resting against the pillow on the headboard. he slides in next to you after turning off the big light and adjusting the a/c to your preferred settings. he sits near you, without touching you, unable to bring himself closer to you due to the thoughts racing through his mind. he feels awful, he never meant to take it that far. 

you both sit in silence for a beat, just listening to the sound of the a/c kicking on and the dog’s claws clacking against the hardwood floors. after a moment or two, you roll over, inching yourself closer to him slowly. your muscles are sore and your body aches from overuse as you put your head on his stomach. 

he drags his fingers through your hair mindlessly, listening to your soft hums of approval. 

“it’s not your fault, rafe,” your voice is soft and raspy, “i don’t blame you.” 

rafe wants to believe you, and he knows that you mean what you say, but he just can’t see it the same way as you. you were always the optimist in the relationship. “i just get so worked up over jj, i know i shouldn't, i know he’s not going anywhere, but i can’t help it.” 

you’re silent for a second. “i know.” you turn your head so that you can see his face, and he can see yours. “but look at me, baby, i’m not going anywhere. and i love jj, yes, but he’s my brother. i will never be able to look at him the way i look at you, we’ve been through too much together.” 

“i know, that’s what scares me,” rafe’s brows furrow deeply, “i’m scared that because he’s been there for forever and he knows everything, that i’m always gonna be left out. that it’s always gonna be the jj and y/n show and i’ll always be a background character.” 

“you won’t, you aren’t,” you frown at him, “it's our show, baby, and i’m not going anywhere. and i'm sure as hell not gonna let jj be the thing that gets in between us.” 

he nods, but you can tell that he’s still struggling to believe it. 

“i love you, rafe cameron. you’re my soulmate, you’re my entire world. i would die if anything happened to you, do you understand that?” 

“i know,” he nods again, this time more sure of himself. “i would kill if anything happened to you. i can’t even imagine that.” 

“good. don’t imagine it, because nothing’s gonna happen to me, and nothing’s gonna happen to us. i love you so much, baby.” 

“i love you so much, y/n.” 

“forever and a day?”

“forever and a day.” he kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger for longer than normal before pulling you closer into his arms. he squeezes you tightly. “i promise i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m so sorry.” 

“apology accepted, rafey,” you wrap your arms around his, kissing his hands gently. “now make me a sandwich please?”

“anything you want, my love.” 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @lanasb0ngwater

[hoeforsungie]

💌 … ( 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 ) 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 — stoned sex w/ Hannie

best friends to lovers! Hannie x fem reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw ・ teasing, lots of tension, Hannie and reader are both horny for each other, drug usage (don’t!) wc ・‎ 2.8k ‎| ‎ ‎[library link here]

[ ۫ ꣑ৎ author’s note ] here’s my first ever preview for a work i’m working on! tbh, the fic is loooong and i’m still writing. i decided to post the preview bc the actual fic is kinda sad, depressing, and dark. i’m worried people wouldn’t actually like that part until it gets to the filth, however i wanted to write a hurt/comfort with some smut for a while… and i may or may not have stoner hannie brainrot. i may post just the smut and loving bits as its own thing, as well as the whole fic when i finally finish? idk i’m rambling… well here enjoy this preview for needy stoned Hannie x reader.

oh btw, here’s a playlist w songs i listened to while writing this

divider by @v6que

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🕊️ ⋅ ˚Jisung was happy to see her smile, even if it was small and her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. A win is a win in his book. So, he happily followed along. The pair grabbed their shoes and the umbrella before leaving the building. The walk to their normal smoking hang out was pretty calm, despite the rain. At least, the rain had died down again into a steady drizzle, saving them from the monsoon-like downpour earlier. The only unfortunate thing was that the wind had picked up, blowing the rain sideways. This left her with no choice but to cling to Jisung as the bitter wind whipped around the two of them. It was about 10 minutes before they spotted the treehouse her parents had built when they were children. All their normal stuff was still there, pictures from their youth hanging on the wall. Now there was an old beat up couch (where their stash was hidden), a bed with a few pillows and blankets where many hours cuddling had been spent, and a projector.

Jisung climbed up first and turned around to offer his hand to y/n. After getting pulled up, she beelined towards the couch to pull out the bud as well as the lighter and the wraps. After wrapping the blunt, she handed it to Jisung as he flopped down onto the couch next to her. “Ladies first.” She giggled. He took the blunt with a begrudging look and held it in his mouth, waiting for her to light it. Y/n obliged and elbowed him “Don’t take all of it, make sure to leave some for me. You hog.” She elbowed her friend then rubbed at her eyes, probably trying to diffuse some of the puffiness remaining from her tears.

Jisung, of course, only offered her a punch to the arm instead and a snarky remark about how he ‘wasn’t the one who finished 70% of the last blunt.’ Y/n rolled her eyes and plucked the blunt from Jisung’s lips harshly. “Shut up, besides,” y/n says as she pauses to take a drag. “You said this was to smoke the depression away. Right now I think I need it more than you.” She stuck her tongue at Jisung, to which he replied by flicking her in the forehead. Y/n took another big drag and coughed. “Goddamn, it’s been a while since I smoked with you Jisungie.” After coughing for a bit, y/n tucked her legs under her and turned towards Jisung. She took a few more drags before putting it in between her two fingers and passing it to Jisung to take. He gladly took the blunt and took a large drag himself. Somehow, he didn’t cough like her, much to y/n’s dismay.

“Bro, are you fucking kidding me? You’re such a show off. Ugh, fuck you!” Y/n squeaked and started punching him anywhere she could hit. “You’re the worst.” She sighed and plopped her body forward so she could lean onto Jisung. Cuddling between them wasn’t something new by any means. She’d never admit it, but cuddling with Jisung recently has been giving her new thoughts to think about. She didn’t know when it happened, but one day she began to notice the way her heart beats louder when she feel jisung’s broad chest caging her in, as his arms wrapped around her. She’d especially take this one to the grave, but she really started noticing it as she slipped away to excuse herself to use the bathroom in a panic. It was pretty obvious when she slipped her underwear down to see the pearly string that attaches itself to her lips and her panties. It was slowly becoming clear to her that she was attracted to Jisung. Perhaps, in more ways than one.

Jisung chuckled at y/n’s cute little outburst and reached over to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Looked like it was getting in your lip gloss, y/nnie.” He said with a honey-dripped voice. He smiled as he noticed as a small blush crept along y/n’s cheeks, down towards her neck. His eyes trailed below as they followed the path the blush was burning on her skin. He swallowed thickly as his eyes reached below her collarbone where his white band t-shirt stuck to her skin snugly. The white had become similar to gossamer, her skin and black bra shining through, thanks to the rain. Taking a sharp inhale, Jisung unconsciously began digging into her arm tightly as he drank in the sight. As if on cue, he broke the spell and suddenly snapped his eyes back into y/n’s. He hoped that she hadn’t noticed, although he knew the chances were entirely too slim. He couldn’t even blink as he peered into y/n’s eyes. Now it was Jisung’s turn to blush, a warmth spreading across his own cheeks. He sputtered something about ‘needing space’ and ‘why are you over here when there’s the entire couch?’ then promptly shoved y/n across the couch, turning his head away from her to hide the blush that was igniting his skin.

Y/n, of course, wouldn’t stand for being pushed away from her heat source as the cold from the rain blew into the tree house. “Sungie, fuck off! What the hell was that for? You know it’s cold out.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. After a few seconds of pouting silently she reached her arm out to grab the blunt that Jisung was holding in his hand, half forgotten. He yelped in surprise and moved his arm up in the air out of y/n’s reach. She slapped his shoulder and laughed as he grunted. After a few seconds of pretending to give up, she smiled and lunged even harder at Jisung. Launching herself off the couch and smiling in victory as she was able to reach the blunt Jisung held over his head, she failed to notice her miscalculation as she was now sitting in Jisung’s lap with her face very close to his own. He glared at her unamused but she still noticed the blush dusting his cheeks. The clock on the wall continued to tick on as the air around the pair thickened. Jisung’s own shocked expression melted into something much needier as she felt him try to physically run away from her hold. But with her sitting on his lap, he had nowhere to go. He pinched his eyebrows and turned his head, bringing his fist up in a feeble attempt to hide his teeth digging into his bottom lip at the suggestive pose the pair are in. With the way in which her arm is still frozen in the air at her attempt to get the blunt for herself, she begins to blush as bright as Jisung and feel a familiar slowly knot tying itself in her stomach. Y/n never thought she’d get turned on by such a small act, let alone from a simple mistake she made.

More time passed as the pair stared deeply, albeit curiously, into each other’s eyes. Jisung’s hands which were thrown around her waist in shock began to grip tighter at her hips, the fingers leaving indents in the milky skin where they were also splayed on her thighs. She parted her lips and he heard a small, breathy “Oh.” leave her. It was hard to deny, but this had a larger impact on y/n than she would have liked. She inhaled sharply as she felt her clit throb gently at the feeling at Jisung’s hands deliciously digging into her sides. It was her turn to look away in embarrassment as she quickly dismounted herself off his lap and back onto the couch with a pout. Stupid Jisung and the way he doesn’t realize the impact he has on me! She internally curses him as all she places the blunt back in between her sticky strawberry lips and inhales. After taking a long drag, and much to her enjoyment, the lack of a coughing fit, she crosses her hands back over into her lap and closes her eyes. She felt the beginning of her arousal begin to fade as she tried to be one of God’s stronger soldiers and put the thoughts flashing behind her eyes deep down into her subconscious. Something about the way Jisung’s fingers stung ever so slightly as he pushed into her plush thighs and waist with his soft hands threw her for a complete tailspin. Of course she’s had sex before, but never had she felt so ignited by such a small and subtle touch. It was as if a jolt of electricity had gone through her the second he laid his hands on her. Shaking her head vigorously to rid the sinful thoughts before they overwhelmed her and she could only imagine the way in which he would handle her, she tried to rid the unholy thoughts once more. Deciding to say “fuck it” and take another large drag from the blunt, end goal of becoming as high as possible in the fastest manner becoming clearer and clearer in her head. It was during this time in which she was so in her own head, she missed the golden opportunity to peek open her own eyes and see the disheveled state Jisung was in, similarly to her own.

If she were to peer over and turn her head towards Jisung, she would have had a heart attack and simultaneously seen the way he desired y/n so bad it was almost tangible. His head was reeling and chest heaving as he shut his eyes and flopped it back against the couch, staring up into the ceiling. His hair flopped with him and covered his eyes, but his own arousal was still apparent to any outsider. The way in which his bottom lip is still trapped between his teeth as he tries to catch his breath. The blush on his cheeks spread down to his chest where the slight dew of sweat began to gather. He pinched his nose bridge as he tried to will the thoughts and his raging boner away. The way in which y/n’s body looked so small on his lap, the way in which her thighs were so soft and plump in his hands. Her small, breathy, ‘oh’ that made his heart hang onto the idea that she was into him enough to find him sexually attractive, and the way in which her wet clothes clung to her form; it all made him go insane. He needed the weed to kick in any second now, hoping he could instead get lost in the sensation of being high rather than hopelessly longing for the feeling of y/n’s pink sugary lips gliding against his own. Heaving a heavy sigh, he looked over to y/n on the couch and slowly peeked his eyes at her form on the couch. Thanking whatever deity was allowing her to look so perfect before him, and luckily she was in her own world with her eyes closed. He let his eyes slowly drag down her body, a little more unashamedly now that he knew he didn’t have an audience to judge his own indulgence.

Jisung flitted his eyes down to her chest once again, running them along the valley of her collarbones, down to where her cleavage just faintly peeked out above the low collar she cut on his shirt, now claimed for herself and neatly stored in Jisung’s drawer for their impromptu sleepovers and other clothing emergencies. He dragged his eyes back up to her lips. He internally groaned as he saw the way her gloss smudged slightly from the blunt, the sugary pink tint shimmering softly in the light. After admiring her lips for a while, Jisung trailed his eyes down to her hips and smiled softly at what he saw. The grey sweatpants that they both owned as a matching set were sitting snugly on her hips. The ones with a little black star and the word “Youtiful” under it, that both of them got as a gift on graduation day from one of their closest friends. The ones that matched his very own. Thanking God and the people he saved in his last life, he smiled at the fact that even if y/n had so many other bottoms to choose from, she chose those special ones. Now here they were, both matching. As he thanked the universe for giving him this win, he stilled as he saw y/n inhale and slowly open her eyes before yawning and sitting up, lashes getting slightly wet from the unshed tears the strong yawn brought to her eyes. He sat up straighter, eyes still trained on her as he followed her every move. Imagine his surprise as he feels y/n shove the blunt between his lips and her hand on his cheeks, pushing into them lightly as she forces his mouth open (much like the kissy face a fish makes) to take the blunt. After she’s satisfied that the blunt remains lodged in Jisung’s plush lips, she withdraws her hand and whips her head away. He held his breath when the words y/n whispered met his ears.

“Mm feelin’ it slowly. It’s your turn to catch up now. Don’t wanna be high alone, Hannie.” Y/n mumbled out through pouted lips. She felt her cheeks heat up as she admitted to already feeling the pleasant sluggish feeling enveloping her body. After she was satisfied by seeing Jisung take a few drags himself, head laid back with one hand in his hair behind his head as he peered up at the ceiling, she let her own head flop back on the couch. Sighing with contentment, she snuggled further into the couch, allowing the comforting feeling of her incoming high roll onto her slowly. It was a few minutes that had passed before y/n’s eyes blink open again slowly as she sat up quickly realizing she had dozed off for about 30 minutes.

Embarrassment painted her features as she quickly realized where Jisung had been when she dozed off. She looked down and nearly yelped as she saw Jisung with his plump lips, open and spit-slicked, laying in her lap. She felt his hair tickle her thighs through the material of the sweatpants as she sucked in a breath and shook him gently, worried what would happen if he stayed there any longer. Now it was her turn to bite her lip as she felt him stir ever so slightly, and instead of waking up, he then wiggled his face deeper into y/n’s lap, grabbing at her and mumbling something incoherent except for the one word she caught. ‘Warm.’ Jisung burrowed in again, his nose nuzzling along her thigh as he breathed out peacefully, his breath fanning across her tummy, where her shirt had risen in her short slumber. Y/n’s breath caught as she let out a little hiccup when one deep sigh let out just the right amount of air to feel a small bead of arousal leak out of her hole and into her panties. After freezing in fear when she felt Jisung nuzzle impossibly deeper, almost driven in his sleep by his body’s unconscious drive to feel her closer. It was over for her though when she felt the tip of his nose nuzzle in just right so that it barely traced over her clothed clit. With a squeak she felt her clit throb more strongly this time and the arousal continued to pool in both her underwear and belly before she’d decided she’d had enough. She grabbed Jisung by the hair and lifted his sleeping body up.

Jisung awoke with a start and a yelp as his hands reached up to where y/n’s were caught tangled in his brunette locks. His bracelet jangled as he looked up at y/n with unshed tears and a pout on his lips, making them look so kissable. After a few seconds y/n smoothed her hand back over his hair and massaged it. She let her hands begin to knead into Jisung’s neck, trying to work out any sore spots as an apology for waking him up so urgently. With the pout still on his lips, he peered up at y/n as he felt his body begin to melt into her touch. “Why did you even do that anyways?” She shook her head and did something which Jisung did not expect at all. She leaned down and pressed her glossy lips to the tip of his nose gently. As his brain was short circuiting he looked up at her with his big boba eyes shining in the soft light and another pout formed on his lips. “W-what was that for?” He asked, his eyes trailing away to look at the posters and photos on the wall, a testament to the brilliance of your youth that you two shared together. Y/n simply smiled and retracted her face from Jisung’s. She twinkled out a laugh, eyes turning into little crescents, and flicked him in the forehead.

[peppermintquartz]

Evan Buckley was made to save lives.

Literally.

Selected to amplify the healing abilities that had already manifested in his sister, Philip and Margaret Buckley allowed Manifest Bio Tech to harvest the necessary cells and tweak them.

But nature or fate still had a say, and Evan didn't emerge a healer.

++++

Evan was made to heal, but the only person he could heal was himself. He still got hurt, but his recovery time was four to six times faster than regular, unaltered humans.

They tried harvesting his bone marrow to replicate the effects but it didn't work.

Daniel still had to die, the cancer in him too resilient against even the harshest of treatments.

When they buried Daniel, Evan had barely begun to learn to walk. If he hurt from the extractions, his parents didn't know or care; Maddie's tears would ease the physical pain anyway.

++++

When Evan ran away from home to get Maddie to flee with him, Doug flipped out. He needed Maddie's tears. They were the secret to his success as a doctor.

She didn't run. She didn't even meet him to tell him why.

Evan drove away, full of a helpless fury at his sister and at himself.

++++

Across the world, Tommy Kinard was gaining a reputation for surviving unlikely odds. But when the options were death, maiming, disfigurement and merely broken bones, there was only so much Tommy's ability could do. But that tiny spark that danced up and down his spine got him to bank sharply just before they were hit, so while they crash landed with injuries, they were not blown up to smithereens.

He received a medal and promptly shipped home to the States to recuperate, and he insisted on remaining in Los Angeles where his grandmother lived. Since he needed a job, he decided to join the LAFD.

Because of Tommy, Nonna had another eight happy years with her beloved grandson. On her last birthday (not that either of them knew that), she bought a lottery ticket and had him check it.

The effect of his ability was dampened slightly since she was the one who made the purchase, but it did make Tommy's life after Nonna a lot more comfortable.

After Nonna died, Tommy felt that little tingle that said something unlikely was about to happen. The very next day, an opening in Harbor Station for a trained pilot opened up.

Tommy knew that was for him.

++++

Evan ended up in Los Angeles, and after a series of gigs, decided that he might as well risk his life and limb for good reasons than bad. His accelerated healing stood him in good stead, too, though he had to choose a different name.

Fire, falls, explosions, water, lightning; Buck survived them all.

And then he met Tommy.

++++

The moment he saw the three from the 118, he felt that telltale zing running down his spine.

Unlikely odds.

Not Chimney, that was for sure; they had encountered each other often enough.

Soulful Eyes shook Tommy's hand. Nothing. "Eddie Diaz."

"I'm Evan, Evan Buckley," says the pretty guy with the kissable lips and fingerprint-sized splotches of wine pink on his left eye and brow.

"Tommy Kinard, hi," said Tommy. He braced himself for the moment they made skin contact, and there it was - the spark, racing from the point of contact over his skin all the way up and down his spine.

Unlikely odds.

++++

They still broke up.

Before he drove over, he had felt the telltale tingle along his spine, and he should have known that it was only for the parking spot, and not for Evan to say, "I am falling in love with you."

There was nothing his ability could do in this case.

++++

Buck didn't know why his healing abilities refused to heal the hurt or fill up the emptiness in his heart. He baked and baked and baked, and each time he was done, he wanted to call Tommy and tell him about what he made.

And he would bake some more.

Maddie who hardly cried nowadays gave him a vial of her healing tears, to be added to any recipe of his choice.

He added it to a simple brownie recipe. It didn't help.

++++

While he had sort of vaguely wished he had healing abilities that could have helped Daniel, Buck never cursed his abilities more than when they raced to rescue Tommy and the patient he and his partners were transporting.

"I don't need to heal me," he begged the fates that had granted him his power. "Heal him. Save him."

Tommy smiled, feeling consciousness about to slip away. "Evan, what are... the odds for me... to have yoy as my last?"

"You know what's less likely?" Buck demanded through his tears. Droplets fell on Tommy's upturned face. "That you make it through this unscathed and we get back together and we have a happily ever after. Focus on making that happen!"

A tired tremble raced over Tommy's skin and down his spine. He smiled to himself and murmured, "As you wish."

[captain-hawks]

"mom, are you gonna go hang out with olive when grandma picks me up?"

olive.

you sigh from across the kitchen at your daughter and her nickname for the situationship that she shouldn't even know exists.

she grins, turning her attention back to the crayons clutched in her little hands and the piece of paper sitting on the table in front of her.

—

you enjoy spending time with oliver.

albeit, it's typically a horizontal, minimally-clothed affair found somewhere within the vicinity of his lavish apartment.

but things are easy with him.

(and nothing's been easy since the divorce.)

oliver's funny. he's sweet. he's straightforward with his desires and upfront with his intentions. he's mature in a way that often makes you forget he's younger than you.

he's a gentleman, he's charming, and he could probably break your heart ten ways to sunday if you let him.

(you've told him as much between pillows and sheets, when you're both tired and sated. when he's smiling at you softly and stroking the backs of his knuckles against your hair like he's on the verge of saying something horribly fond.)

he's a generous lover (it's the best sex of your life, you'd be a liar to deny it).

but this is all it is and all it ever will be with oliver aiku—you're under no preconceived notions that say otherwise. you know his reputation, after all.

which is why you had no intention of introducing him to your daughter—until you received a call from her school requesting an early pick up while you and oliver were in your car grabbing lunch. she was apparently feeling sick, so you didn’t have much leeway to avoid the situation.

"mommy, who's that?" she'd asked, peering at the man sitting in the passenger seat, equal parts giggly and mystified.

she hadn't seen you with another man since—

"you can call me oliver," he'd grinned right back at her.

"nice to meet you, olive!" she'd chirped.

olive, olive, olive.

it haunts you, just a little. what an impression he happened to make on her in the span of a thirty-minute car ride as you cut your rendezvous short and dropped him back off at his apartment.

how he answered every outlandish question she asked—she's nosy by nature.

how he asked her questions about school and her favorite shows and her favorite animals in turn.

the way he grabbed your phone when she started belting out song requests and obediently complied, even when you told him "you really don't want to listen to that."

the way he sang along with her.

now it's always olive this, olive that.

you don't have the heart to tell her that olive doesn't date.

--

it's an unsuspecting tuesday night when everything changes.

"oliver?' you call out from where you're standing in the kitchen, a glass of water clenched in your slightly trembling hands as you stare at his fridge.

as you stare, and you stare. and what you're seeing still doesn't make any sense.

"hmm?" he comes up behind you suddenly, arms wrapping around your waist.

you lift a hand to point at the fridge, where a piece of paper hangs by a magnet, adorned with a crudely drawn green oval with stick figure arms and legs. the words OLIVE are written above it, punctuated by a little pink heart.

you'd hastily told oliver that he didn't have to keep the drawing when you opened your purse to find that she had stuffed it in there last week.

"i feel like having a child's drawing on your fridge might give your hookups the wrong idea," you say, throat beginning to feel tight.

oliver's arms tense around you slightly. you can feel him looking at the side of your face, but you can't tear your eyes away from the picture.

"i told you, you didn't have to keep it," you add, biting the inside of your cheek.

he turns you toward him then, an oddly serious expression on his face. he looks almost—hurt.

"nobody else is coming here to see this but you."

the room sways, just a bit, as your knees threaten to give out beneath you.

[rekino2114]

Blue lock girls reacting to you giving them an assist

A/n:first blue lock post with some of my favorites. Also, in most posts I'll do, they will play mixed. Just don't question it

Fem!meguru bachira

She jumps on your back and starts cheering and laughing uncontrollably

"Woooooh! That pass was insane y/n!"

"I-it's nothing babe, you were the one to score anyway"

"But I wouldn't have done that if it weren't for you, I knew the monster inside you would have chose me!"

"O-ok but can you......"

"What?"

"Get off my bac-"

You two fall down while Bachira continues laughing

Fem!rin itoshi

Rin just accepts your high five when you offer it to her (to the rest of PXG's surprise) and compliments you

"Hey nice pass"

"Oh thanks, you made a nice goal too"

She then pulls her jersey over her mouth to hide a blush

"If you want.....I can give you an assist later too"

"Oh~ what is this? Bottom eyelashes offering someone an assist? That's not something you see everyday"

"Yep, she's really head's over heels for y/n, isn't she~😈" (that's the weird demon emoji Charles does btw)

"SHUT UP YOU LUKEWARM IDIOTS"

Fem!sae itoshi

She doesn't do that much, just nods at you with her usual cold face

"Hey sae, nice goal"

".....thanks......your pass, it was nice too. Almost as good as mine"

"Oh thanks a lot, I'm glad you think so"

Later in the match, she continues giving you passes so you can score too. It's her way of saying thanks

When you do score, she compliments you and belittles the rest of her team for being in your way because you're "the only one who can receive her passes"

Fem!shidou ryusei

She immediately tackles you to the ground and starts making out with you passionately. You're genuinely worried she might take off her shirt knowing her

"Y/n! Y/n! That reaction we just had was so amazing~ it was so so so much fuuuun~!!!"

"T-thanks shi, but that wasn't anything special it was just a pass"

"What are you talking about? That was an amazing explosion, like all of the ones you do, and I mean all of them~"

"W-wha-"

Rin has to basically tear her off of you while you're blushing profusely when the match has to restart

Fem!seishiro nagi

She rubs her eyes and smiles slightly when she sees you approaching and helping her get up

"Thanks"

"Hm? For what?"

"For the assist, it was perfect, that's why I scored"

"Please it was all you, no one else could have scored a goal that amazing"

"Ah, thanks do you mind giving me more assists like that? I wanna do a hat trick"

"Oh for sure"

You two high five and walk back to the field.....while reo is looking at you jealousy

Fem!Michael kaiser

She immediately pulls you into a dip kiss, holding you with one arm while showing off her tattoo with the other, meanwhile ness is cheering and clapping for you in the background

"M-michelle, here? Really? It's being broadcasted live"

"As was your amazing assist and my amazing goal mein schatz. We need to show everyone how wonderful of a couple we are, both in football and in our private life"

She somehow makes sure that the goal is on all the major German football channels and everyone is talking about you two

And definitely brags about it to isagi Non-Stop

Fem!Alexis ness

She kinda can't believe she actually scored since she usually just passes to you or kaiser. But after the shock wears off she goes and hugs you tightly

"Y/n! Did you see that? I scored!"

"Yeah, that was amazing lexi!"

"O-oh please no it was all because of you, you passed to me? I can't believe it, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you"

She keeps thanking you for basically the entire day and looks at you with that adorable smile of hers that melts your heart

She talks to kaiser about it later and he actually compliments her on it, which just takes her over the moon

[peleksstuff]

escape V. l rafe cameron x pogue!reader

*gifs not mine*

ive been gone so long hope you didnt forget that last chapter cause i do but heres an update so sorry for the long wait

---------

one

two

three

four

“You’re not useless, Rafe. You’re more than what he says. You just… need to stop trying to be what he wants you to be.”

Rafe’s gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken.

_______

Rafe’s heart raced as he roared down the dark, empty road on his motorcycle. The wind whipped against his face, but it did nothing to cool the burning anger, frustration, and heartbreak bubbling up inside him. The sound of his father’s voice still echoed in his ears, cruel and sharp.

“Useless. You’re a disappointment, Rafe. You’re not my son.”

His father had saved him tonight—paid off Barry to cover his debt after Rafe's reckless run with drugs and poor decisions had spiraled out of control.

But Ward Cameron hadn’t just stopped there. He disowned him, severing whatever thread of connection Rafe had desperately clung to for so long.

The validation he’d craved from his father had been ripped away, leaving him feeling hollow, unwanted.

He squeezed the handlebars harder, his knuckles white. He wanted to cry—hell, he needed to—but something inside him wouldn’t let the tears fall.

Instead, he felt stuck in the numbness, trapped in the anger that swirled with his sorrow.

Where was he even going? He didn’t know. He just needed to escape, to run from the weight of his father’s rejection. He’d always been good at running.

Before he knew it, the familiar neon glow of the diner lights cut through the dark. Kiara’s family diner. Your workplace. Without thinking, Rafe pulled into the parking lot, the motorcycle’s engine cutting off as he came to a stop.

He was exhausted, emotionally drained, and he didn’t have the energy to go anywhere else. Something about seeing you right now felt like the only thing that might tether him to reality.

As he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the bell above the entrance jingled softly. You were behind the counter, wiping down the tables, unaware of his presence at first.

The diner was mostly empty at this hour, just a few late-night regulars scattered around. When you finally looked up and spotted him, your eyes widened in surprise. You stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by his presence.

He made his way to a booth near the window, sitting down heavily. You caught his eyes briefly as he stared out into the night, lost.

There was an intensity in his sadness that you hadn’t seen before, and it unnerved you. Rafe Cameron wasn’t supposed to look like that.

You wiped your hands on your apron and walked over to him, keeping your voice steady as you asked, “Can I get you anything?”

He looked up at you, and for a moment, there was something so open, so broken in his expression that you almost wanted to sit beside him.

He held your gaze, his voice low and a little hoarse when he spoke. “You.”

You blinked, not expecting that. “Rafe—”

“I just… need someone to talk to,” he said, his words barely above a whisper.

His eyes were glassy, like he was on the verge of tears but refusing to let them fall. “And it’s you. I don’t know why, but I need you.”

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard. Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to admit weakness, especially not to someone like you—a Pogue. But there was something so genuine in his sadness that you found yourself nodding before you could think better of it.

“My shift’s over in fifteen minutes,” you said softly. “I can talk to you then.”

As you turned to head back to the counter, you noticed Kiara leaning against the kitchen door, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the sight of Rafe in the diner.

“Rafe, huh?” Kiara said, her tone carrying a hint of suspicion. “That’s… unexpected.”

You shrugged. "Its not like that."

Kiara let out a soft laugh, her eyes narrowing in playful disbelief. "You know he’s bad news, right?”

There was an edge to her voice that told you it wasn’t just casual gossip. Kiara had seen what Rafe was like, how he treated her friends—Pogues. Her warning wasn’t out of jealousy or teasing. It was genuine concern.

Rafe had a reputation, and it wasn’t a good one. But the Rafe sitting in that booth looked nothing like the guy who was always stirring up trouble.

He looked… lost. And something in you couldn’t walk away from that, not after everything he did for you.

“I’ll be careful,” you promised, offering Kiara a smile.

After the clock finally struck the end of your shift, you pulled off your apron and approached Rafe’s booth. He glanced up at you, still looking like a storm was brewing inside him.

“Come on,” you said softly, nodding toward the back exit. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

The two of you stepped outside, the night air cool against your skin. You led him to a small bench behind the diner, away from prying eyes.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Rafe just sat there, staring down at his hands, lost in thought. You weren’t sure how to start, so you waited for him.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “I fucked up. Again."

Rafe took a long, shaky breath, rubbing a hand across his face. “My dad… he’s done with me.”

His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the raw pain behind his eyes. “He paid off my debt tonight—saved my ass from Barry—but then he told me I was a disappointment. That I wasn’t his son anymore.”

“I just… I don’t get it,” he continued, his voice growing more frustrated.

“No matter what I do, it’s never enough for him. I’m never enough.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a pain so deep it made your chest ache.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve been trying so hard to prove myself, but… maybe he’s right. Maybe I am useless.”

“Don’t say that,” you said firmly, your hand resting on his arm.

“You’re not useless, Rafe. You’re more than what he says. You just… need to stop trying to be what he wants you to be.”

Rafe’s gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken.

His eyes searched yours, and you could see the vulnerability in them, the desperation for someone—anyone—to believe in him.

“You really think that?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with disbelief.

“I do,” you said softly. “You don’t have to be perfect, Rafe."

Something shifted in his expression then, a flicker of hope or maybe relief, and before you could process what was happening, Rafe leaned in.

His lips brushed yours, soft at first, like he wasn’t sure if you’d pull away. But when you didn’t, he deepened the kiss, his hand gently cupping your face.

The world around you seemed to fade, the only thing you could focus on was the warmth of his lips against yours, the way his hand gently cupped your face as if he was afraid to break you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough.

“Don’t apologize,” you interrupted softly, your fingers brushing the side of his face.

Rafe didn’t need to say anything more, and neither did you. All you knew was that in this moment, Rafe needed someone—and for some reason, he had chosen you.

[violetvines]

wedding bells are ringing 🔔

summary: it's the day of libby and nash's wedding. libby is getting ready in her room, feeling nervous about walking down the aisle, pre-wedding jitters and all. she hears a knock at her door, and the last person she's expecting is standing on the other side... alisa ortega.

characters: libby grambs, alisa ortega, nash hawthorne

a/n: my first fic! I hope I represented them nicely <3

.���� ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

One. Two. Three. Four...

Libby counted her breaths in her head, steadying their rhythm, even if she couldn't seem to steady her erratic heart.

Today was the day. The kind of day she had carelessly dreamt about when she had been a girl. The kind of day she hadn't dared to even think about in recent years, because she didn't believe it would ever happen. She didn't believe this day would ever come.

She was getting married today. She was having a wedding.

It was funny, really, because just the night earlier, she had been laying in bed with Nash, and they had talked about the surreality of the situation. Or, as Nash would put it, a situation that was surreal to her, but very real and very true to him.

"What if it's not everything you dreamed it would be?" She had blurted that out almost immediately after Nash had rebuked her "surreal" statement.

He had proceeded to stare at her in the darkness, fingers still stroking her dark blue hair. "Libs..." he began, "no dream of mine is worth anythin' if you ain't in it."

"You are everything I could ever dream of."

"But-"

"Shhh," he shushed her, "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that you're afraid because tomorrow, your last name becomes Hawthorne. You're going to say that you're worried you won't be able to live up to that name, and that you'll mess up and somehow cause the whole world to come crashing down."

"But you need to understand this. Tomorrow, I will no longer be just a man – I will be your husband, your sworn protector. And I will be there with you every step of the way to hold your hand. You will not mess up, and the world will not come crashing down, because I will be there. And if you're still doubting it, still thinking that something will go wrong, I will shield you from all their hurtful words and condescending stares."

Libby knew that when Nash pronounced his g's, he was being serious.

"You always think that you make a mess everywhere you go, but I need you to know that you turned my life from a mess to a blessing."

He had then kissed her forehead and she'd remained silent, tears forming in her eyes.

Libby sighed at the memory. Nash had such a way with his words. He always knew what she needed to hear, how to comfort her and be there for her.

She had fallen asleep shortly after that. Still, no amount of talking could change the fact that it was real and it was happening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

"That must be Avery," she thought. Her sister had gone off to meet with the other three Hawthorne brothers, presumably in Nash's room. She hadn't seen him since morning and he wasn't allowed to see her in her dress until the altar. Avery was probably back now, so she was ready to bombard her with questions... if she could get her nerves to calm down.

Libby looked in the long mirror, smoothing down the front of her wedding gown. It was black, matching the glossy dark blue and black colour on her nails. She liked it. The makeup artist had done a great job too, and she felt like a queen. (As she should.)

"Come in!" she called, while opening the door.

The figure outside her door made her freeze. It was Alisa Ortega, better known as her sister's lawyer or her soon-to-be husband's ex-girlfriend.

She and Alisa hadn't always been on good terms, and honestly, she could understand it. Who would want to be friends with their ex's new significant other?

"Nash Hawthorne has never loved anything he didn't leave."

Alisa's words from the past echoed in her ears. Libby curled her fingers into fists. She didn't have time for backhanded remarks or snide comments right now. She needed to calm down because soon, it would be time to walk down the aisle.

Alisa was dressed formally, as if she had just finished a meeting at the law firm. She had an eyebrow raised. Great. "Are you going to invite me in or...?"

Libby stepped aside to let her in, not saying anything just yet. She took another deep breath.

"Look, Alisa, if you're here to talk to me about keeping up appearances later, I got it. I've been going through my vows everyday for the past week - I won't forget them. I've been practising my walk down the aisle with these killer shoes too - I won't fall. Don't you worry, I won't embarrass anyone. Not Avery, not the Hawthornes, not the family's reputation."

Libby hadn't realised that she was panting heavily.

"Oh, and also, please don't make a comment on my unconventional wedding dress. I know you don't approve, but here I am anyway." She spread her arms, displaying herself.

Alisa looked at her carefully. What she said next surprised Libby, and she almost pinched herself awake.

"You look beautiful, Libby."

"Wait... what?"

Alisa sighed. "I said that you look beautiful." She said it so matter-of-factly, like Alisa Ortega was someone who usually dished out compliments like that.

This wasn't the Alisa that Libby knew.

"You can get to it, you know. You can tell me what you came here for."

At that, Alisa gestured for Libby to have a seat.

"I came here to give you something," she began, but paused as Libby snorted.

"By something, do you mean... an NDA? After I marry Nash, I'm practically Hawthorne and I'll know all their secrets." She said, lightheartedly.

How was she joking around with Alisa minutes before her wedding? Then again, it was possible. Alisa didn't like to joke.

Libby waited for a cutting remark, but none came. Alisa only grimaced. Grimaced? Since when did Alisa Ortega grimace?

Why was Alisa acting so weird today? As far as Libby knew, Alisa was over Nash... unless... she wasn't, so that's why she was acting this way. She habitually brought her fingers to her mouth. When she was nervous, she bit her nails.

She didn't manage to do so, because Alisa gently set her hands down. "Hey... we don't want you ruining your nails before the wedding."

"Here, take this." Alisa reached into her pocket and procured a small box, one that could fit in the palm of her hand. Noticing Libby's curiosity, she explained.

"It's a small music box. I thrifted it from somewhere, and I thought you'd like it. The designs at the sides of it are very... gothic." That last word sounded like it troubled her to say it.

Libby laughed with disbelief. "Alisa... you mean to say that you got me a wedding gift?" Her giggling died down, as she was suddenly overcome by an unexplainable feeling. Gratitude? Shock? Wonder? All three?

Alisa shrugged. "It would be rude to attend the wedding without bringing a gift." At that, Libby's mouth fell open. She hadn't thought that Alisa would even set aside time to attend her wedding.

Alisa didn't let her deal with the shock for more than three seconds. "Go ahead and open it."

She did. Her fingers trembled as she wound up the crank.

The first notes played and she immediately noticed that it wasn't just any music. It was wedding music.

"Here Comes The Bride" was playing and the tinkling notes filled the room. As Libby watched, the room shined with a sort of ethereal glow. The music faded, and she turned to watch as Alisa stared at her wistfully.

She could have sworn there was a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Thank– thank you." Libby stuttered, because what else could she say? None of this had been expected.

She now expected Alisa to leave but that didn't happen either. "I also wanted to say that I'm happy for you. Truly."

"Everything you said just now made me realise that I haven't been the best person to you, and for that," she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry."

Here was Alisa Ortega opening up. Here was Alisa Ortega apologising to her. Alisa Ortega was apologising to Libby Grambs.

"I wish you and Nash a happy marriage." Libby sat there in silence, still processing her words.

Alisa looked at her wristwatch and caught herself then. "I should be going now. Before things get out of hand down there."

She was at the door when she turned around and said, "you don't have to forgive me. Having you around wasn't the worst, you know? You made life at Hawthorne House happier – I can see it in their faces. When Nash talks about you, he has a sparkle in his eyes, something that was lost long ago. Xander loves your baked goods and I see him popping his head in the kitchen every evening, with hopes that you're there, baking something. Even Grayson and Jameson love having you here."

"You're not an embarrassment, Libby Grambs. You are everything they never knew they needed."

"You're a wonderful sister. And I'm sure you will also make a wonderful wife."

With that, Alisa stepped out of the room, not leaving space for Libby to reply. She didn't need to turn around to know that at that second, Libby had mumbled a million thank-you's, feeling touched at what had just passed between them, diamonds glistening in her eyes.

"You're not half as bad either, Alisa Ortega." She whispered to the empty room, eyes still on the space that Alisa had vacated.

And somehow, she didn't feel nervous anymore.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖๋ ࣭ ⭑

"You may now kiss the bride." The priest announced.

Before Nash could pick her up in his arms and plant a kiss on her lips, she scanned the crowd one final time.

There, in the middle of all the chaos, sat Alisa Ortega.

Libby grinned at her, not expecting anything but a small smile back.

She was surprised again, when she was met with the sight of Alisa grinning back. It was the first time she had seen a genuine, happy smile on Alisa Ortega's face.

She hoped it wouldn't be the last.

lace divider by @kodaswrld

[calypso-apologist]

could i pls have headcanons of yandere Antinous x princess of Ithaca/daughter of Pen n Ody reader 🙏🙏🙏

antinous oh antinous the things i'd do to you

Yandere!Antinous x Princess of Ithaca!Reader ♡

cw: mdni. nsfw mentions. non-con/dub-con implied. yandere. antinous starter pack: manipulation and questionable consent. murder. pregnancy. non-descriptive birth. i have issues.

The queen was a stubborn wretch, refusing to pick a new king. She believed Odysseus was still out there, that he'd come back. Antinous might not be a chosen of Athena, but he's not a fool, either. He knows she's stalling.

And while other suitors insist on trying to get to Penelope somehow, Antinous figured that there might be an easier way to secure his place in the royal family.

After all, Telemachus wasn't necessarily the only choice for the king. There was also his twin sister. Odysseus never named his heir, so it could be either of the twins.

Or rather, the son or the daughter's husband. So why not become just that?

And while at first it was just about the throne, the more he watched you, the more he followed you around... the more he started to crave you.

The need to possess you was no longer just his desire for just the throne, no... he wanted you.

He wanted the princess of Ithaca to be his. He wanted to tear her dress to shreds, to see her naked body shaking and she whimpered and squirmed under him in bed. He wanted to see pretty tears running down her soft cheeks, maybe even watch her struggle a bit as she tried to keep her dignity at first, before surrendering to him.

And even if she tried to fight, tried to get him to leave... He could simply hold her down, could he not?

But, since she seemed like such a sweet young thing, he decided to play it safe. After all, if she falls for him genuinely, it'll all be so much easier.

Besides, with young, kind souls like hers, it really didn't even take that much effort. Antinous was a charismatic bastard. And the princess was innocent, lacking experience when it came to romance.

Of course, there was hesitance at first, but all it took was a sad little act about how he let himself get lost in his ambition and the young princess immediately looked at him with a more merciful, understanding gaze.

With that, obtaining her friendship and affections was just a matter of time and charm. Say what you want about Antinous, but he could be one charming motherfucker if he so wished.

He didn't even need three months before sneaking into your bedroom at sunset, his words wrapping around your heart and brain like constricting snakes around their victims.

And despite how hesitant the princess was about giving up her precious innocence, she really didn't need much convincing. She loved him, after all, and he loved her. She shouldn't overthink things, she should simply give herself to him, let him ravage her.

Did it really matter that it hurt? It was supposed to, she was a smart girl, she should know that. She should trust him. Love him. He loved her, after all, he kept whispering so into her ears as she sobbed softly, her whole body trembling from the rough yet oddly delicate treatment. It seemed to be something only he could do, to violate her so lovingly.

And of course, he couldn't just stop after the first time, no... He had to visit her each night, fill her up, make sure his seed would take, binding the two of them forever.

Once the pregnancy was confirmed, he was quick to rid the palace of all the other suitors, one by one, before he finally asked Penelope for her daughter's hand in marriage, bringing the shared "love" to attention and saying he even made all the others leave to prove himself.

And even despite how hesitant the queen was, she gave in to how much the princess insisted.

And for the first few months, he seemed like a dream husband, always by his wife's side, helping her through the pregnancy, willing to make every wish come true, not even a flash of irritation on his face despite how ridiculous the princess's whims might've been.

But when the faithful day came, he was late. By the time he finally appeared, the mother of his child was too vulnerable to question the blood on his hands as he cradled her face, offering hushed reassurances before the room was filled with the sound of a newborn baby crying as it was forced to greet the world, torn out of its mother's womb.

The princess only found out why her husband was late and bloody a few days later, as Antinous was crowned king. He used the chaos that surrounded the birth to kill Penelope and Telemachus. Fortunately for him, his precious wife was too far gone in his manipulations to even try to rebel against him. Instead, she remained by his side, forever faithful with his firstborn in her arms.

And she'll have more. His previous little queen.

[missmvrder]

It had been unfair of her to say what she had, to accuse Milo of doing what he had simply for the fun of it and not because it meant something else. But that was the problem she had been faced with for too long now, knowing that it had to mean something or he wouldn't have said and do what he had and being left alone to feel like she was easy to discard. Mena had wanted to know why, for so long, but she knew that it could only hurt her more. Which apparently didn't stop her from pouring all her venom out. There was a time when she thought Milo only brought the best in her, but now it was clear it wasn't the case, that the version of Ximena that stood before him was bitter and petty. "Isn't it what you did?" she asked, her voice an octave higher than it should, a sure sign that she was on the verge of tears. In truth, she should have ended things with James right there and then. After all, in her heart, she had, it was only her head that fought it. Had Milo been waiting for her to do or had he regretted it? They had never talked about what they did, what it meant, until now.

Did James deserve her? In her mind, she was the one that didn't deserve him, considering what she had done. As far as she knew, he had never cheated on her, but then again, he had all those frequent work trips. The problem was that she didn't care about it enough to question him, didn't want doubts to creep inside her any more than it already had. There it was again, this time coming from his own mouth, the dilemma she had been faced with for weeks and months. How it could have mean something and yet, nothing. Milo's words were swirling in her mind, trying to make sense of them, to see if there was some underlying meaning to them when Milo just turned around and left the bar. For a second, she watched his back disappear through the crowd before she pushed herself from the bar and followed him.

The cold night's air hit her with full force. "Then why," she called after him. They were alone in the street, the pounding music form the club only a distant noise. It was too quiet now, Mena hearing only the beating of her own heart that wasn't drown by anything else anymore. "I cheated on James with you Milo. You should know what that meant. I cheated on him but never on you," she said, her voice breaking on the last words. It made no sense, Milo and her had never been together, but after the line they crossed, she couldn't ignore how she felt for him and how he said he felt for her. She hadn't let James touched her, feeling like she was being unfaithful to Milo every time he boyfriend tried to get near her. "You blocked me everywhere and I don't even know why. You think James doesn't deserve me but you don't want me. So which is it Milo? You want me alone while you go have fun and be happy with Samantha?" Bringing up the other woman was unfair but the jealousy she felt pooling inside of her couldn't be ignored.

The bitterness in her voice burned, acidic and biting. Milo flinched, his lips parting as if to argue, to deny that any of it had been meaningless, but the words died before they could take shape. He couldn’t counter her accusation without making her pain worse, and yet, staying silent felt like surrendering to a truth he didn’t believe. “You think it meant nothing?” His voice was low, rough, as though dragged over gravel. “Is that what you think, Mena? That I could’ve just...done that with you and walked away like it didn’t matter?” He was no longer perched on the bar anymore. The words had peirced through him, cut to his very core and it was something he could not just let be said in a fleeting moment. After the whole spiel he had given her before everything occured and she then concluded that he didnt care for her or want her. When that was far from the truth. 

He let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “You think James not being able to let you go means he’s better for you? That it makes him right for you? Because it sure as hell doesn’t mean he deserves you.” His throat constricted as though a vice had wrapped itself around his neck, but he forced the words out, each syllable sharp and jagged, like glass splintering from his chest. “Fine. But if you really believe that I’d just wreck everything we had and walk away like it was some kind of twisted joke…” His voice wavered, a raw edge cutting through the rising tension. “…then you never knew me at all.”

The finality in his tone lingered in the charged air, heavy and unyielding, before he tore himself away from the bar. The two untouched shots glistened beneath the dim overhead lights, a silent testament to the moment he couldn’t bring himself to finish. He needed air, real air, the kind that didn’t taste of regret and things left unsaid. The noise of the bar behind him receded into a dull hum, muffled by the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. The world seemed too big and too close all at once, the open street offering no solace, only a hollow kind of expanse that made him feel more trapped than ever.

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

One Piece #758 (vol. 76)

Hang on, I need a second... Usopp, who usually takes credit even for things he didn't do, who respects Luffy's good opinion so much that he credited his faith in his crew as the reason they kept fighting, that he agreed to work with a random, dangerous Warlord in a plan to take out an Emperor of the Sea just because Luffy complimented him, saying it doesn't matter if he never finds out that Usopp saved his life, as long as he's safe and can keep going...

Not that it's unprecedented for Usopp to do something like this - in fact, it's one of the first things we see him do. He also kept Kuro's invasion of his home village a secret. And maybe I'm reading too much into this, but I don't think it's completely irrelevant that Syrup Village's existence such as it was (a peaceful and carefree place that, if anything, could use someone like Usopp causing mischief to liven it up every once in a while) depended on the secrecy. Here he just thought, "I saved you, that's enough".

(Not to mention the comparison - this would be putting Luffy on the same level as his home village, the place he grew up in.)

[missrosegold]

Looks like I just lost another close friend to guy who isn't worth a pile of dog shit. 😊

[leyiorr]

you and satoru decide pretty quickly that you want your daughter’s ears pierced.

she’s a gorgeous baby; bright blue eyes and soft white hair just like her father. her nose and lips are your genetic touch, and satoru insists that it’s your features that make her look so adorable.

you’d asked your husband what he thought about getting her ears pierced so young, and obviously he thought it was a great idea - his two favourite girls should match earrings.

and so, once she’s old enough, the two of you bring her to a store to get her ears done.

satoru has her sat on his lap, entertaining her as you spoke with the piercer about the placing and colour of the earrings. he talks to her like he can understand her baby babble; no one understands his daughter better than he does.

eventually, the time comes, and the piercer lines up the piercing gun with your daughter’s ear after marking the spot with temporary ink. she’s giggling gleefully, trying to grab hold of the piercer’s hair.

satou’s anxiety is on high, he doesn’t want his daughter to flinch and cause an injury that no one wants. the peircer seems nice enough though, and her friendly smile coupled with your hand on his shoulder and his baby’s laughter settles his nerves marginally.

but he speaks too soon.

the minute the metal pierces her skin, your daughter instantly breaks into tears, twisting her small body toward her daddy as she lets out dramatic screeches of pain. satoru’s heart sinks immediately, large hands gently trying to soothe his daughter - her tiny ones fist his shirt like a lifeline.

she cries and cries like she’s dying, and satoru feels his soul bleed.

“daddy’s sorry, baby,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “it’ll go away soon. i wish i could help you, sweets.”

but she’s having none of it, crying harder when he tries to put her back into position. he feels his own eyes sting; his heart aches from being unable to take away his precious daughter’s pain.

his eyes snap up to your face, hoping you’ll have some insight on how to help her. you’re smiling fondly, softly pinching her cheeks in effort to distract her from the pain.

“don’t be dramatic,” you scold sweetly, dropping into a crouch to press sloppy kisses to her chubby cheeks.

she hiccups, letting her father’s shirt go in favour of trying to grab your nose instead. her cries turn into wet giggles within a few seconds and satoru feels relief fill his veins.

you look up at him with a raised eyebrow, “i mean you, mister.”

it takes him a full second to realize that there are tears rolling down his face, and he quickly wipes his eyes in embarrassment. he hears the piercer giggle; may the ground open up and swallow him whole.

“you’re such a baby,” you say, but your heart felt so full - your husband just cried at his daughter getting her ears pierced? you were never going to let him live that down.

satoru doesn’t say anything, obediently allowing you to tilt his head back to meet you in a kiss. through the salty taste of his tears and your fingers holding his throat he doesn’t even notice when the piercer approaches again, quietly lining up with the other dot.

she looks to you for consent, and you give a subtle nod as you continue to distract your husband with kisses. he breaks it in surprise when he feels your daughter flinch, though this time there’s no wails.

he looks down. her face is scrunched up in effort not to cry, cheeks puffed up as she looks up at her father proudly as if to say: look, daddy, i didn’t cry that time!

he feels his eyes fill up again. his head drops to rest on his daughter, kissing her all over her face and eliciting a series of giggles.

“that’s my girl,” he boasts proudly, grinning wide while bouncing her on his knee, “i knew you could do it!”

he hears you laugh from the counter, “you cried the most, satoru.”

he scoffs, picking the baby up and nuzzling his face against hers, “i don’t know how you didn’t! her cries broke my heart!”

[i-love-ptv]

Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Goin’ On ˚̣̣ ᵕ̣̣̣̣̣̣

Pairing: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Soccer-mom!Wife!Reader

It’s not easy being a soccer-mom, especially when dads hit on you at every game as if you’re not married to Rafe.

Wc: 1,596

Fluff, Protective Rafe making an appearance, kinda pushy guy (idk what to say)

An: I’ve really wanted to write a fic based on this song, and this idea randomly popped into my head so! Am I using the names I wanna name my kids? Yes, yes I am.

Not proofread tbh

Feedback always appreciated lovelies!! xx

“I’ll be back, ‘mkay doll?”

You hum in acknowledgement, eyes peering back at the field after looking up.

Your husband, Rafe, leant down and places a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Yeahhh, Daddy’s gonna be back, baby.” Rafe coos at your two year old, who was sitting on your lap, babbling freely while peering at him with her big doe eyes.

Rafe walks off the bleachers in search of the concession stand to buy food for the three of you.

You brush your hand over your young daughter’s head, making sure her somewhat oversized hat is still covering her head entirely. Her hand wraps around your index finger.

It was oddly humid today, if you continued moving, you’d break a slight sweat. You can't even imagine what your daughter—Stacy must be feeling, running around on the large grassy field under the beaming bright sun.

You were proud of your baby girl though, nonetheless. And so was Rafe, of course.

You shout loudly when you notice the game is about to start, bellowing out a “Go Stacy!”

Stacy’s eyes easily found yours, for you and Rafe would always sit in the same spot on the bleachers.

Her eyes were slightly wide due to your shout, despite you and Rafe always cheering for her during her games.

She’s motioning for you to ‘shh’, putting her fingers to her lips before getting into her position.

“Which one’s yours?” You hear to the left of you, the unknown voice makes you tear your eyes away from the field.

You smile shortly at the unfamiliar man next to you, “Number 22.”

You can’t help but notice how he’s rather scruffy looking, an odd contrast to your upkept husband with his neatly buzzed hair.

“Mine’s number 13.” He says, flashing his teeth at you.

You gasp and shoot up a little, making you look down at your daughter on your lap. “Valerie’s yours? Oh she’s just the sweetest!”

The man chuckles, looking deeply in your eyes. This makes your eyebrows raise, slightly in confusion, but mostly in discomfort.

He hadn’t done anything out of the norm, you’d randomly talk to the other moms around too, but something about him made you uncomfortable.

“My name's Brandon, and yours?”

You introduce yourself briefly, before turning back towards the game.

His eyes dart to your left hand, looking for a ring, for any indication that you belong to someone else. He smiles sharply when he finds your fingers bare. This goes unnoticed by you.

Little does he know, you do have your ring on, just around your neck.

Your biggest fear was your youngest accidentally pulling off your ring, resulting in you losing it. Or, even worse: it pokes her eye or something of that nature.

You suppose you could be considered a ‘Helicopter-mom’ at times, simply going to the extremes to make sure your kids are happy and healthy at every point in time.

Rafe is the exact same way, maybe even a little worse. But you knew he was just protective, he loves this life that he has with you, since he had no idea the two of you would’ve been together for so long.

You had started dating Rafe when you were 18 and he was 19. It was good for the first few months, disregarding the few arguments that you had. But then, you had caught Rafe doing cocaine.

You don’t think you’ll ever be able to shake the look on his face from your memory.

You weren’t supposed to be at the party, you said you were busy filling out college applications.

So when he was mid-line, and he saw you standing there all dolled up, watching him with glossy eyes, he felt his heart shatter into pieces.

You weren’t supposed to find out, he wanted to keep this away from you, to keep you close to him.

He promised that he would try and stay sober for you, but eventually he’d give in every time the opportunity was in front of him. This resulted in several arguments, and surprisingly, a break up.

But things are different now. You both are in your 30’s, you got married, and of course, had two beautiful babies together.

Rafe knew he’d be crazy to fuck things up now, when he has the perfect life right in front of him.

Speaking of which; you’re really starting to wonder what the hell is taking him so long just to get some goddamn hotdogs and drinks.

You’re bouncing your knee anxiously, which makes your daughter giggle. You wish she wasn’t finding this amusing, but you know she can’t help it.

“Well who’s this cute girl, huh?” The man coos, tickling your daughter’s side.

“Her name is Noelle.” You huff, your mood quickly shifting due to this stranger touching your daughter.

He lets out another chuckle, you wish you never had to hear it again. “Sounds like you’re quoting Teenage Dirtbag to me.”

You give him a pointed look, you’re really getting sick of his pestering. “That’s where I got it from.”

Abruptly, the crowd starts cheering madly. You look around and see Stacy's team celebrating briefly; they had just scored a goal.

You cheer and clap, grabbing Noelle’s chubby hands and making her raise her arms wildly while giggling with her.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we could-” Before Brandon could finish his sentence, none other than Rafe Cameron comes stomping up the bleachers, huffing and puffing angrily.

He sits down and sighs, “God, I’m sorry babe. The line was so long! I swear I’m going grey right now.”

“And I missed the goddamn play!” Rafe exclaims. He looks over at you and immediately goes quiet once he sees those wide baby eyes that look at him curiously.

“Da?” Noelle mutters, reaching her tiny hands towards Rafe’s larger ones.

“Yeah. Da’s here babygirl, do you want your food? Huh sweet girl?”

Rafe hands you your food, setting his food aside so he can put Noelle in his lap. He begins to split half his hotdog in pieces for her.

You glance to the left, you notice Brandon looking like a fish out of water.

Rafe is the CEO of one of, if not the biggest business company around. And Brandon had just borderline harassed his wife, who was holding his child.

Brandon sneers at the two of you in silence while the game continues, nearly boiling at the fact that he couldn’t have you.

Your head is laying on Rafe’s shoulders, you’re rubbing circles on Noelle’s shoulder as she settles down.

“Everything alright babe?” Rafe asks, trying to peer down at your face.

You untuck your necklace with your wedding ring from your shirt, fiddling with it. “Yeah, now that you’re here Ray.”

There’s silence between the two of you for a few seconds.

“…What does that mean?”

You hesitate to answer, but you do regardless, “Nothing! It’s just uh..That guy next to me, was kinda like hassling me I guess.”

This makes Rafe straighten his back.

“He do somethin’ to you doll?” Rafe questions in a whisper. You know you have about 30 seconds to try and calm him down before he’s banned from every soccer game left in the season.

“No, okay? I’m fine, it’s cool. I need you to calm down Ray.”

Rafe’s nose is flaring, “What about Ellie? Did he touch her?”

You feel your throat closing up, your heart is damn near pounding out of your chest.

You don’t say anything to Rafe, but that look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know.

You grab his bicep, trying to keep him grounded. Even though he’s changed, some parts of him haven’t.

Rafe speaks lowly in your ear, but not too much to frighten you in any way. “I’ll take care of it, okay? Don’t worry y’pretty little head about it.”

Rafe presses a firm kiss against your cheek, then presses a softer one to your lips.

After 30 more minutes, and 2 more goals, Stacy’s team wins.

You and Rafe cheer loudly, letting out “That’s our baby girl!”

You meet Stacy at the bottom of the bleachers, holding Noelle in your hand as the littlest claps her hands between Stacy’s face.

You’re too busy congratulating your daughter to notice Rafe pulling Brandon aside while his daughter, Valerie is off talking to her friends.

Rafe puts a firm hand on his shoulder, “Hey man.”

Brandon lets out a nervous laugh, “Hey there, Rafe Cameron, right?”

“Yeah, let’s keep this short. I better not see or hear you talking to my wife again, do you hear me? I don’t give a shit what happened.”

Rafe continues shortly, “And keep your fucking hands to yourself, if I find out you touched my either of my daughters again, I swear to God himself I’ll put you under.”

The two men are holding eye contact, one looks with confidence and borderline rage, while the other looks with fear.

Rafe walks down the bleachers, meeting you and your girls.

“You were amazing out there sweetheart!” Rafe smiles while pulling Stacy into a bear hug.

“Jesus dad, you’re crushing me!” Stacy laughs with a slight wheeze.

Rafe ruffles her hair and puts his arm around your neck.

“All good to go?”

You nod your head, and with that, the four of you begin to walk to Rafe’s parked car.

Rafe realizes that this isn’t the first time you’ve been hit on at a soccer game, or anywhere in fact. And this definitely won’t be the last.

Cause everybody’s in love with Stacy’s mom.

[writersdrug]

Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”