#i hope y'all are safe and doing fine

[rin-may-1103]

The Master Post.

someone asked for a master post so here we are.

Tag List? yes, there is a tag list. If you'd like to be Added, please leave a comment on the Stories Linked Post. If the tags aren't working for some reason, you can either Follow this post by clicking the bell (or the three dots) or follow the Story's Post the same way. I'll update both Relevant Posts when there is a New Part.

Yes, I have an Ao3. It's under the same user name, just with (_) instead of (-). Most of my works are locked due to personal preference, so you'll need an account if you want to read most of them.

I hope y'all keep enjoying the stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

(currently dealing with life, so posts are going to be very, very slow, sorry.)

Stories and Summaries:

The Wrong Robin Au (DP x DC):

Tim Drake saw Danny do a quadruple somersault, which resulted in him believing Danny was the first Robin for years. He still figured out Bruce but thinks Dick is in the dark. Now with the second Robin dead, and Batman quickly reaching the end of his sanity, Tim takes it upon himself to get Robin to come back. Danny is very confused when this random kid tries to blackmail him into becoming Robin.

Badger Day Au (DP x DC):

Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation and he would like to be let out now, please. The league is very worried.

Delilah's language (DP x DC):

Bruce Wayne approaches the Fentons because Damian is a big fan of Danny for his work in the conservation of the purpleback gorilla. So now Danny is going to the birthday of this random kid so he can teach him gorilla sign language so he can talk to the purple-back gorilla as well.

Just a Bite (DP x DC):

Danny's homeless on the streets of Gotham, when he gets a terrible idea from some passerby. Three weeks after living with the Waynes, they still haven't noticed he's not supposed to be there.

72 hours (DP x DC):

During a battle with the rest of the league, John Constantine is accidentally sent into the palace of Pariah Dark, Tyrant of the Dead, and Bane of the Living. Danny just wanted to have a simple spa day.

Biggest Regret (DP x DC):

Danny Had been optimistic when he created The Email. Three days, that's what he gave himself. Three days to fix or get out of whatever problem he was dealing with and open his laptop to restart the timer. Three days. Past him had thought that If he ever got caught they'd just kill him; it's what they said they would do this whole time, so why wouldn't he think otherwise? It's been more than three days, and at this point, he's just glad someone could fulfill his last wish.

The Disappointment (DP x DC):

Ra's has stated his disapproval of one of the twins, now Talia is rushing to get them out of there and to Bruce to be safe. Danny has other ideas.

Black Retrievers and Golden Cats (DP x DC):

He remembered how it took two hours for his mind to catch up to what he had done, two hours for him to realize he had just killed his brother. It took another two days to realize his brother was never coming back, that the pits had not worked. Damian stared at the camera footage infront of him, his family's voices buzzing with theories and analyzing everything they could. He remembered his brother's bright carefree smile just minutes before Damian had killed him. So, why? Why was he seeing it again?

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row. (DP X DC):

Tim doesn't understand how he's losing at university to a toddler. Danny's not having a great time, but it's fine because now he can terrorize Red Robin.

The Willpower of Space (DP X DC):

A faulty green lantern ring wakes from it's accidental eon long sleep due to how powerful Danny's willpower is. It decides that Danny is a worthy wielder and grants Danny the ability to use it. There's just one problem; Danny keeps dying. and the ring doesn't understand what's going on. Oa is very concerned.

The Weeping Boy Au (DP X DC):

I'll think of a summary later, for now, it's an expansion of this post.

The Eyes of Death Au (DP X DC):

In an attempt to prevent a cult from causing problems, Danny accidentally convinces the Justice League and Co. that he's possessing himself. Damian is not happy that his boyfriend is apparently the new June Moone.

Aspiring escape artist (DP X DC):

The new foster kid might be a little more traumatized than the other kids they usually take in for a while, but it's not like they can't handle it. That is, until Danny started sneaking out, past the bat-grade security system, without getting caught and without using his powers.

Through Your Eyes (DP X DC):

Sometimes, soulmates randomly switch bodies. It doesn't always happen; in fact, it's actually more common to not switch. Danny hadn't really thought he'd ever switch, doubly so after his accident. So you can imagine his surprise when not only does he switch, but he switches with Damian Wayne, aka Robin.

Cabin 18 and the Missing Kids (DP XDC):

Vlad is planning something, unfortunately, Danny's stuck at camp and can't sneak away. But maybe that's ok, because what's this about missing kids? And who does his roommates think they are fooling with their 'normal' kid acts? They're obviously vigilantes. And hey, maybe Danny might actually get a break for once, it's not like his parents can't defend themselves.

[1800-fight-me]

Safety in Your Arms

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, threats of violence, stranger danger i.e. stalking but don't worry Logan saves the day Word count: A bit over 2k Synopsis: Logan protects you from the unwanted advances of another man and shows protectiveness and care you didn't know he had for you. Author’s note: I'm thinking this might need a part two, let me know what y'all think- I hope you enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

There was a cold panic that shot down your spine. Fight or flight, you’d learned the technical term, but now experienced it for yourself. 

The five minute walk between your work and your apartment had never felt so long. It all started with a creepy customer- which was a regular occurrence at your job- but this customer took it far beyond creepy. 

He tried to make too much small talk, stared too much, made a few too many over the line comments, and was entirely too pushy when asking for your phone number. Your one male coworker escorted him out and you thought that was the end of it. 

Hours went by, you assured your coworkers multiple times that you were fine and you were safe, and eventually you were the last one left to close and lock up. 

But only one block away from your workplace, you had the feeling of being watched- of being followed. And it was just your luck that your phone was dead and you’d forgotten your charger at home.

You changed your route, taking one that was a bit longer but also more well lit and populated. With a glance back you confirmed your worry, that it was in fact the same creepy guy from hours before. 

Your heart pounded with terror as you contemplated every option for safety. Your apartment building required a code to enter, so you sped your walk, hoping if you slipped into the building and shut the door behind you that it would be enough. 

“Hey,” the man’s voice called out, but you refused to look back. 

Your apartment building was within sight, but the man’s catcalls and jeers were also getting louder and closer. 

“Hey, c’mere pretty lady! I’ve got somethin’ for ya!” 

Your whole body shuddered in fear. Your next door neighbor stepped outside of the front door of the apartment building and you nearly sobbed in relief. 

“Logan!” you called out. 

He looked up in surprise, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he saw the stress in your entire demeanor. 

You practically ran to him and threw your arms around his torso in a hug he clearly did not expect. He hugged you back, but you felt him stiffen as he looked behind you. 

That was one thing about Logan, he was extremely perceptive and quick to notice any form of danger. 

“Hey bub, what can I do for you?” he said to the man behind you in a gruff tone that was not at all welcoming as he gently maneuvered you so that you stood safely behind him. 

You gripped Logan’s strong bicep as you peered around his shoulder at the stalker. 

“I was just-” 

“Just nothin’. You better leave her alone,” Logan interrupted. 

“C’mon, I was just inviting the pretty lady to have a good time. Does he speak for you?” the creep asked as he made eye contact with you. The malice in his eyes made your heartbeat spike again. 

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” you said nervously. 

He glanced between you and Logan as if uncertain. 

“She just told you, she’s mine- so fuck off,” Logan growled. A different kind of shiver went down your spine. 

“You live here?” the man asked. 

“No,” Logan growled before you could even open your mouth. “But I do, and if I see you around here again it’ll be a problem.” 

The man looked at Logan and finally seemed to take in the gravity of the situation, the danger that the large muscled man protecting you could pose. 

He gulped and nodded, yielded a step back as Logan took a step forward- muscles tense and fist clenched. 

The man turned and scurried away. You took your first full deep breath in several long minutes. 

Logan watched the man until he was completely out of view before he turned to you. He placed a large comforting hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Princess,” he said in a gentle voice. 

He pulled you into a hug as a tear fell from your eye and made its way down your cheek. You were enveloped in his warmth and woodsy masculine scent and finally felt safe. 

“Thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend,” you said as you pulled back and wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk. Your breath caught and you bit your lip as you looked up at him and saw such care and concern on his handsome face. 

“Who was that guy?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “Some crazy customer from earlier today, my coworker made him leave, but I guess he came back and waited until I was leaving alone….” 

Logan’s brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth. “That motherfucker,” he growled, “I’m walking you to and from work tomorrow.” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“No, I do. And I’ll do it until I’m sure he isn’t gonna bother you anymore. And if he shows up again…” he trailed off as his claws extended from his fist in an action that seemed involuntary due to his rage. 

A shiver ran down your spine. You had no idea Logan felt so protective over you. 

“Thank you,” you said in a soft voice, “I appreciate it.” 

This was not helping your ridiculous crush on your neighbor. From the minute he moved in with your friend Wade, you had heart eyes for him. 

The Wolverine, he took your breath away without even trying. With his large stature, huge muscles, and handsome face- you were a goner. It didn’t matter that he was older, way out of your league, and generally altogether grumpy. You were head over heels for him, and you were certain he had never noticed you before, that he merely thought you were Wade’s annoying friend. 

But you adored him, you adored the gentle heart you knew he buried under that gruff exterior, and displays of protectiveness such as this only proved what an amazing person you already knew he was. 

“I’m headed to meet Wade at the bar, d’you wanna come?” he offered. 

You nodded eagerly, not wanting to be alone after the stress of the day. 

“Lead the way,” you said with a smile. 

—--------

“Look who I brought,” Logan said as you walked behind him into the bar and approached a booth in the back corner. 

He stepped to the side so your friends could see you. Wade, Vanessa, and Dopinder sat at the table, already laughing and drinking beer. 

Wade gasped dramatically and exclaimed, “Princess Cupcake!” 

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed you and showed your amusement. 

“Hey Wade,” you replied then greeted the others. 

“What? No comeback? I’m hurt! What’s wrong?” he asked, speaking in that way too fast pattern that was his norm. 

Logan placed a hand on your back and leaned down closer to your ear as he asked quietly, “You wanna sit down? I can get you a drink- what do you want?” 

You smiled and sat down as you were told and told him your drink order. 

Wade wiggled his non-existent eyebrows at you in a rather suggestive manner. 

“What’s up between you and peanut? Did you finally fu-” 

“No,” you interjected quickly. 

“Wade, she’s clearly upset and Logan is helping her,” Vanessa said as she elbowed her boyfriend. 

You sighed and explained the events of your afternoon. During your explanation Logan came back to the table with two drinks and sat next to you. His large form crowded you into the corner of the booth, but you didn’t mind. 

“That motherfucker,” Wade said in anger at the end of your story. Vanessa gave you a look of solidarity, you knew she had experienced plenty of creepy men in her life. 

“That’s what I said,” Logan replied, clearly somewhat amused. 

“We should kill him,” Dopinder said.

“Calm down wannabe-vigilante,” you muttered which caused everyone to chuckle. 

“Don’t worry cupcake, ole honey badger and I will make sure you’re safe,” Wade reassured. 

You nodded and said, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think he’ll return. Logan can be pretty intimidating, it was amazing - I’m sure he scared him off.”

Logan grunted in agreement, although when you looked at him you could’ve sworn there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and the tops of his ears. 

As the evening stretched on, you were thoroughly distracted from your troubles and amused by Wade’s antics and Dopinder’s stories. 

“So, Princess Cupcake, any luck on the dating front?” Wade asked. 

You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt- a nervous habit, and without looking up from the table said, “Nope.” 

Logan let out a soft sigh of what your aching heart could only hope was relief. 

“I’ve never asked, what’s with the nickname?” Dopinder asked. 

You shrugged and gestured to Wade. 

“When Blind Al and I moved into our apartment this sweetie pie here brought us cupcakes!” Wade explained. 

“Good thing it was cupcakes instead of a pie because being constantly called sweetie pie would make me want to die,” you muttered and everyone laughed. 

“What about the princess part though?” Dopinder asked. 

“Just look at her,” Logan mumbled and you and everyone at the table looked over at him in surprise. 

“She’s got that innocent sort of pretty you only see in big bright eyed animated Disney princesses,” Wade said. 

Embarrassed at the attention you changed the subject immediately. Your constant filthy thoughts about Logan proved you were anything but innocent. 

“But why is Logan’s nickname peanut?” you asked quickly. 

Wade shrugged, “Just fits.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. 

You smirked and said, “I bet we could come up with a hundred nicknames for him that would fit better.” 

“Like what?” Wade challenged. 

You glanced over at the large handsome man sitting next to you as your face warmed. 

Daddy was the first word that came to mind. Wade chuckled in a way that made you momentarily worried that mind reading was one of his mutant abilities. 

The silence at the table stretched on, becoming a tad awkward, before you said, “Nevermind I’m not very good with nicknames anyways.” 

“Yeah, it’s probably best to leave choosing nicknames to the professional,” Vanessa said in a joking tone to ease the tension. You shot her a look of gratitude and she winked at you before she effectively changed the subject all together. 

Eventually, after enough drinks and conversation, you declared that it was time for you to go home. 

“C’mon!” Wade protested. “The night has just begun!” 

“I wish I could stay but I’ve got work in the morning.” 

“I’ll walk you home,” Logan said in a soft but firm tone that left no room for argument as he stood and took a step back to give you room to get out of the booth. 

You nodded in agreement and smiled in pleasant surprise as he offered you his arm. You wrapped your arm around his large bicep and linked your elbows as you followed him out into the cold winter air. 

The city glowed in warm orange light that reflected on the wet pavement. Your breath was visible in frostbitten wind, and you shivered slightly which caused you to burrow further into your coat and move closer to Logan and the heat his body provided. 

He then pulled his arm from yours, causing you to momentarily panic, but just as swiftly he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

You smiled and filled the short walk with endless chatter, you used to worry that your yapping irritated him, but the small uptick of his lips- the ghost of a smile- showed fond amusement and filled you with warmth enough to make you forget about the cold. 

“What time do you leave for work in the morning?” Logan asked as you reached the door of your apartment- his apartment door only a few steps away. 

“Eight o’clock,” you replied as you unlocked the door.

“But really, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll see you then,” he interrupted in a tone that indicated you would not win this argument. 

Then he did something you didn’t expect at all, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. 

You grinned, your smile wider than probably ever before as you said, “Goodnight Logan, see you bright and bleary eyed tomorrow.” 

He chuckled as he bid you goodnight and you walked into your apartment and shut the door only after he smiled at you again before disappearing behind his own door. 

You shut your door and locked it before leaning against it. You muffled your squeal of excitement with your hand- all too aware how thin the walls are. The stressful events of the day completely forgotten. 

[witchywithwhiskey]

Dear Molly! For your sweethearts game. Can I please request

Lloyd Hansen- Bite Me! 😍

taste so sweet

pairing: brother's best friend!lloyd hansen x female reader

summary: you've been staying with your brother's best friend while you look for a new apartment, and when he gets on your last nerve, the dynamic in your relationship takes a sudden, sharp turn toward the filthy.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), vaginal and anal fingering, anal play, spanking, light pain play, light sadism/masochism, biting, bdsm dynamics established on the fly (including safe words and check-ins), very brief daddy kink, sir kink, praise kink, light degradation, pet names (a bunch), aftercare, sweet ending, kinda roommates to lovers

word count: 5.0k

a/n: i think i can safely say "bite me" was the most popular prompt y'all chose for this game since this is the third one i've written with it 🤭 i've had a lot of fun coming up with different scenarios that it makes sense in, and with Lloyd...well of course he's going to actually bite you 😏 anyway thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

The dulcet murmuring of the yoga instructor on the TV was rudely interrupted by Lloyd Hansen, whose voice was equal parts eager curiosity, impolite teasing and vulgar innuendo. 

You couldn’t see your brother’s best friend-slash-temporary roommate’s face from where you were positioned on your yoga mat. You were facing the TV in the living room of his apartment, while the front door was at your back. 

Somehow, though, you could still see the smug grin on Lloyd’s face, framed perfectly by his stupid mustache.

Lloyd wasn’t supposed to be home so soon! You thought you were safe to do your morning yoga routine in the living room instead of the cramped guest bedroom without commentary from the man who couldn’t seem to resist annoying the shit out of you—which had only gotten worse since you’d moved in.

After the lease on your last apartment had ended and you hadn’t been able to find a new place in your price range, you’d had to take your brother up on his offer to stay with Lloyd for a bit while you continued your search. You’d never liked Lloyd—he was an undeniable douchebag and, again, always seemed hellbent on annoying you—but you hadn’t had much of a choice. 

It was just your luck that Lloyd was the only person in the city who had the luxury of a spare bedroom. Your friends were all crammed into tiny places with roommates or significant others, and your brother lived too far outside the city to be a reasonable commute in for work. So you’d sucked it up and moved in with Lloyd. 

For the most part, things had been fine. Mostly because you’d been avoiding your brother’s best friend as much as possible, especially since the first week. You’d accidentally caught a glimpse of Lloyd wearing only a towel as he’d ducked from the bathroom into his bedroom while you’d been eating breakfast. 

You’d nearly dropped your spoon and spilled oats and yoghurt everywhere. The sight of Lloyd’s muscled chest, bare and glistening with droplets of water, was such a shock to your system, you’d stared after him for a long time, your brain unable to process the undeniable truth of what you’d witnessed. 

Your brother’s best friend was hot. 

Ever since then, you’d been unable to stop noticing things about Lloyd, like the softness of his pink mouth beneath the bristles of his mustache, and the spark of humor that seemed to be ever-present in his bright, blue eyes. He actually had a handsome face—though, in your opinion, he would be hotter if he’d shave off that ridiculous mustache. 

But even the mustache was growing on you. Which told you that you were getting in way too deep.

And to make matters worse, Lloyd seemed to have noticed that his lewd and flirty comments flustered and annoyed you the most, so he’d started making them more and more. You knew he didn’t mean anything by them, that he was just pestering you because you were your brother’s little sister, but you’d started to enjoy it far more than you should.

It was the main reason you avoided doing yoga in the living room. The positions the yoga instructor led you through had you bent over on your hands and knees, ass sticking up in the air, and you could just imagine the things Lloyd would say—and the way your body would warm, as if welcoming him to follow through on his empty threats—and you didn’t want to deal with it.

But now you had to. 

“I didn’t take you for the yoga type, cupcake,” Lloyd drawled when you didn’t immediately respond to his question. He set something down on the table beside the door, toed out of his shoes and padded further into the apartment, coming to a stop at the foot of your mat. “I never thought you’d paint such a pretty picture, pumpkin, with your head down and ass up…”

Lloyd’s voice trailed off, his tone thick with suggestion, and it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to tremble. You wanted to lower your shoulders, press your cheek to the mat, and present your ass to Lloyd, but your pride would never allow it. So instead, you spit out two words designed to make him leave you alone.

“Bite me.”

You’d turned your head to look at Lloyd while you said it, so you knew he wasn’t even looking at your face. He was just staring at your ass. 

But at your words, his eyes flicked to yours, humor and hunger sparkling in their blue depths, and he grinned widely. Something low in your belly clenched tight with anticipation, but you forced yourself to roll your eyes at him and turn back to your video. 

The yoga instructor on the TV was using her melodious voice to encourage you to inhale into cow pose before exhaling into cat pose. The movements meant you had to arch your spine toward the mat and then round it toward the ceiling, all while Lloyd watched.

Your body warmed when you dropped your belly and looked up, assuming cow pose, the position practically offering your ass up on a platter for Lloyd. 

Despite this, you couldn’t help but keep your breath in your lungs, holding the position longer than normal as you wondered what Lloyd was going to do or say. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to find out. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Lloyd muttered, his voice low and gruff in a way you’d never heard it before. 

You only had a second to puzzle over the meaning of his words before he was falling to his knees behind you, his hands grabbing hold of your hips. A second later, you felt his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your ass through your leggings. 

If you’d been asked, before that moment, what your reaction to someone biting your ass would’ve been, you would’ve answered confidently that you wouldn’t have enjoyed it. You’d assume you would shriek in surprise or kick backward to dislodge the person biting you. But your actual reaction was very different.

A low, obscenely filthy moan slipped from your lips, and your arms gave out. Your upper body sank down to your elbows on the mat, just like you’d imagined, and you pushed your ass right into Lloyd’s face. 

It just felt so good—the slight sting of pain simmering into a burning heat of pleasure that had heat gathering quickly between your thighs. 

It was only when you realized your response was just as inappropriate as Lloyd biting you that you reached an arm back and pushed against his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, ignoring the breathlessness in your voice and the way it sounded like you were panting for more, not begging him to stop. 

Lloyd lifted his head from your ass enough to catch your eye over your shoulder. “You told me to bite you, so I did,” he said simply, an unrepentant grin on his stupidly handsome face.

You huffed an annoyed sound, turning around and burying your face in your arms, refusing to let him see how turned on you were. But then Lloyd pulled one of his hands from your hips and slapped your ass hard. 

Your body rocked forward from the force of the spank, and you bit so hard into your arm, you thought you might draw blood with the effort to hold in your moan. But you couldn’t stop your hips from pushing back instinctively, as if asking for more.

The brazen movement only made Lloyd chuckle, the sound low and devious and far hotter than it had any right to be.

“And it looks like you liked it—do you like a little bit of pain, princess?” Lloyd teased, an undercurrent of knowing in his smug, patronizing tone. 

“That’s none of your business,” you spit out, forehead pressed to your forearms. You were unable to look at him, lest your brother’s best friend read it all over your face that you very much did like the little bit of pain he was giving you, that it heightened the pleasure, and you desperately wanted more.

Lloyd paused, and for one brief devastating moment, you thought he might pull away, that things might end there and you almost rushed to tell him not to stop. But before you could, he spoke, his voice calmer and more even.

“If I ask you ‘red, yellow or green’, do you know what that means, sunshine?” he asked in a serious tone. His hand was lighter and more soothing as his palm skimmed over your lower back, no longer touching you anywhere that was inappropriate. 

“Yes, I understand,” you rushed to say, arching your spine and pushing your ass back into Lloyd’s lap, sucking in a gasp when you brushed against a thick bulge. “Green—green, Lloyd, please.” 

It was easier to beg him this way, with a vague statement of consent, so you didn’t have to put into words everything you wanted. That you wanted him to push your head into the mat and spank you hard enough you’d be feeling it for days, to pull down your leggings and shove his cock into you, pounding against your smarting ass until he made you come undone.

Lloyd chuckled, the sound so self-satisfied and condescending, it made your slit grow wetter, your arousal dripping into your panties. But then his hands grabbed you roughly again, his strong fingers kneading your ass mercilessly through your leggings. 

“You’re wrong about it not being my business, cupcake,” Lloyd rumbled, his voice warm even as it was patronizing. “As long as you’re living under my roof, everything about you is my business.”

The possessiveness in his words did something to your body, your belly swooping and your heart flipping in your chest, none of which you were ready to admit to Lloyd. 

So you huffed a noise that you hoped sounded annoyed and sarcastically muttered, “Sure, dad.”

Your intention had been to mock Lloyd, who’d sounded like an overbearing father unable to give their child the freedom they deserved. But your words only seemed to heat the air between you and Lloyd, your brattiness bringing out something blazingly hot and deliciously volatile. 

The quiet of the apartment, save for the yoga video still playing softly on the TV, was broken by the sharp crack of Lloyd’s hand coming down on your ass. You could feel your soft flesh jiggle, and it added a wonderful contrast to the light, stinging pain of the slap, which sounded worse than it had felt. 

A low moan slipped from your body and you lowered your upper body further to the mat beneath you, arching your spine and presenting your ass just a little bit more for Lloyd, almost as if asking for more without words. But you should’ve known your brother’s best friend better.

“Is that what you’re into, filthy girl?” Lloyd asked, his big hands kneading your ass roughly through your leggings, making you wish he’d pull the fabric down and touch you for real. “Do you like to call the guys you fuck ‘dad’ and ‘daddy’—or am I special?”

Lloyd’s hands must be magic, it was the only explanation you could come up with for how good they were making you feel. But you weren’t distracted enough to not mouth off at your brother’s best friend.

“Who says I’m going to fuck you?” you shot back haughtily, turning your head and catching Lloyd’s gaze. You quirked your eyebrow at him in what could only be described as an insolent look.  

Lloyd’s eyes darkened at the challenge in your tone. In a swift movement, he dropped his head to your ass, sinking his teeth deep into your soft flesh. 

Even through your leggings and panties, you felt the sharp sting of his bite, and your eyelashes fluttered while another moan spilled from your lips unbidden. 

The pain was at once reprimanding and playful, and your mind spun with the headiness of it. You could hardly believe Lloyd had bit you the first time, but a second time… Your heart was racing in your chest and your pussy was throbbing between your thighs and you needed something. 

“You are,” Lloyd growled, dragging your attention back to the conversation you’d been having. His voice was smug even as it was thick with lust, and it took you a long moment to process his words. 

Lloyd gave you a short reprieve, one of his hands sliding up your spine to wrap around the back of your neck. With his grip firm on your head, he lifted you up enough to make sure you maintained eye contact while he spoke. 

“I’d prefer if you called me ‘sir’ instead of ‘daddy’ or anything like that,” he said, his tone as serious as it had been when he’d asked you for a color. His gaze held yours, and you knew he expected a response, but for a moment all you could do was look back at him. 

There was something weighty about the moment that stole your breath. Lloyd wasn’t just messing around with you, he wanted you to know his preferences, he wanted to make sure you felt safe with him. He’d made sure you had a way of telling him to stop while you kept playing your game and now he was telling you what he liked. 

It was freeing and terrifying at the same moment, so you responded the only way you knew how—like a brat. 

“Noted,” you said in the same serious tone as Lloyd had used. Then you tossed your head and murmured blithely, “But I’m not gonna fuck you, sir.” The honorific was spit from your lips with as much impertinence as you could muster, and you were gratified by the way Lloyd’s expression darkened.

“You’re right, sunshine, I’m the one that’s gonna be fucking you,” Lloyd countered, giving you little time to process his words before he was ducking down behind you. 

A second later, you felt his hot tongue press to the curve where your ass met your thigh and drag upward, licking you so close to where your slit was dripping into your panties, but not touching you there. It was such a tease that another obscene moan fell from your lips. 

“Oh god,” you groaned, canting your hips and pushing your pussy closer to his face, but Lloyd just repeated the motion on the other side of your pussy, ignoring your slit entirely. “Lloyd.” His name was a frustrated huff as he licked closer to your cunt.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you, pumpkin?” Lloyd asked teasingly, using his big hands to spread your ass so he could drag his tongue closer to your pussy. “I could fuck you real good with my mouth and make you cum on my tongue—ya just gotta ask nicely.”

You wanted to keep being a brat, you wanted to see how far you could push Lloyd before he’d snap, but the more he tortured and teased you with his tongue through your clothes, the wilder it drove you. 

You were so worked up, you thought Lloyd might be able to make you cum without even taking off your leggings and panties, but that thought left you cold and bereft. 

When you didn’t say anything, Lloyd chuckled at your stubbornness. His hot breath ghosted over the wet spots he’d left on your leggings, making you tremble violently, your thighs quivering as they struggled to keep holding you up.

“C’mon, don’t you wanna be a filthy girl for me, princess?” Lloyd coaxed, his voice low and smooth and so entreating you wanted to give in already. “Don’t you wanna cum all over my face, sunshine, make a mess of my mustache?” 

He dragged his face back and forth against your ass, making you feel the coarse bristles of his mustache, and you nearly howled with need. Desire was blazing through your body, your need for his tongue was throbbing in your pussy to the same beat as your racing heart. You could feel your resolve crumbling. 

“Just ask me nicely, cupcake, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Please,” you cried, the word half sob and half prayer, wrenched from the depths of your soul. “Please fuck me with your tongue, sir, please make me cum—please!”

“Atta girl,” Lloyd crooned, yanking your leggings and panties down in one harsh move, and burying his face in your cunt from behind. He groaned loudly into your damp flesh, sweeping his tongue from your clit to your ass, tasting every inch of you. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, pumpkin.”

Your thighs were trapped together by your clothes, which Lloyd had only pulled down far enough to get to your pussy, but that didn’t stop you from pushing your hips back into his face. One of your hands reached back blindly, sinking into his soft brown hair, slick with just a little bit of gel, and twisted in the strands, holding him close.

“Lloyd,” you cried out, your body trembling as he licked deep into your slit, his mustache brushing against your heated, oversensitive skin. It made you sob with pleasure at the contrast of his hot tongue and the rough rasp of his coarse hair. “Lloyd, oh god, oh god, yes!”

Without pulling his face from your cunt, which he kept eating voraciously, Lloyd brought a hand down sharply on your ass. It surprised you enough that you let out a little shriek, your body shuddering and your pussy dripping even more onto Lloyd’s tongue.

“What did I tell you to call me, princess,” he rumbled into your soft, wet cunt. “If you want me to keep eating this pretty pussy, you call me ‘sir’ and you use your words to tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want to cum,” you whimpered, your pleasure already twisting overwhelmingly in your core. You were so close, so close, so close. “I want to cum all over your face, sir—please make me cum, sir!”

Lloyd chuckled, nipping playfully at your folds. His hands kneaded your ass, holding you right where he wanted you while he feasted on your pussy.

“I’m gonna make you cum, pretty girl, don’t you worry,” he purred, pausing only to nuzzle his mustache over the tender flesh of your soaked cunt, laughing huskily when you trembled and whined for him. “Gonna make your cunt cream all over my mustache.”

“Oh god, yes, sir, want it,” you moaned, your fingers twisting tighter in Lloyd’s hair and pulling his face into your body. At the same time, you pushed your hips back, until his groans were muffled as he ate you out. 

His fingers worked your soft curves, groping you roughly and delivering sharp spanks whenever you reverted to calling him Lloyd, making you gasp and moan in equal measure. He gorged himself on your pussy, licking deep into your hole, sucking on your clit and nipping at your sensitive flesh until you were a writhing, moaning mess.

When he had you squirming and begging beneath him, Lloyd’s thumb trailed down the seam of your ass, brushing against your little rosebud. You squealed when he pressed lightly against the tight ring of muscle, your body shaking violently under the strength of your pleasure. 

Lloyd paused only long enough to ask for your color and when you gasped an enthusiastic, “Green!” he dipped his thumb into your pussy, coated it in your slick arousal, and pushed it into your ass. 

All the while, he used his soothing voice to coax you into relaxing for him, to letting him in, and when you did, you moaned loudly at the feel of him inside you. It was so depraved and delicious and you loved it.

“You’re so fucking perfect, cupcake,” Lloyd growled against your pussy, shoving his tongue deep inside you to feel the way you fluttered for him. “Now cum on my tongue, princess,” he ordered, his voice rough and demanding, “Wanna taste your cum, give it to me—cum for me, filthy girl.”

Lloyd’s growled command and the way his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking mercilessly on the bundle of nerves while his thumb was buried in your ass, had you shattering apart with a scream you tried to muffle in your yoga mat. It was a desperate, aching cry as your pussy convulsed and gushed with your release.

Behind you, Lloyd rumbled an appreciative sound, drinking down your juices greedily, tongue lapping up every drop until you were shivering from the overstimulation. Even then, he brushed his mustache over your clit, the delicious rasp wringing one last devastating aftershock from your body as you whimpered pathetically.

When you were done, Lloyd carefully slipped his thumb from your ass, pulled up your leggings and panties, then wrapped his arms around your upper body, easing you up from your bent over position. He sat back and tugged you into his lap, holding you close in the cage of his arms while you caught your breath.

“Did that feel good, sunshine?” he asked in a voice gentler than any you’d heard him use before. There was a level of care in his tone that made your heart thump harder in your chest, even as your body otherwise settled and cooled.

“Yeah,” you said on a delicate exhale, snuggling into Lloyd’s chest and breathing in the spicy scent of his cologne. He made you feel so safe and comfortable, you gave in to the urge to add, “Thank you, sir.”

Lloyd chuckled a little, cupping your cheek in his big hand and lifting your head so he could look you in the eye. “Thank you, pretty girl, for trusting me to make you feel good.”

There was so much genuine affection in Lloyd’s crystal blue gaze that it stole the breath from your lungs. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, traces of your release still glistening on his lips and in his mustache. The urge to kiss him, to taste yourself on Lloyd’s tongue, was nearly overwhelming. 

As if reading your mind, Lloyd leaned in, pausing a hair’s breadth away from your lips. But you didn’t want him to hesitate, you wanted him to kiss you—so you closed the distance and kissed your brother’s best friend for the first time.

Your first kiss with Lloyd Hansen was filthy and messy, and yet also somehow sweet and gentle. His mouth was soft, and firm as he explored yours, licking along your lips and deepening the kiss quickly when you immediately opened for him. 

Though he tasted of your release, reminding you of all the dirty things he’d already done to your body, he was tender as he slipped his tongue between your lips. And he was methodical in learning what made you gasp and moan for him. 

Against your thigh, you could feel Lloyd’s cock twitching, and a renewed heat began to stir in your core, making you yearn to keep going with whatever had begun between the two of you. 

Breaking from the kiss, you took a moment to appreciate the dark heat in Lloyd’s eyes, the slight, smug curl of his mouth. Before that morning, that look might’ve annoyed you, but now it just filled you with heat and excitement.

“Would you like me to take care of you now, sir?” you asked sweetly, dragging your fingers down Lloyd’s chest, delighting in the way his muscles jumped and danced beneath your touch. 

Before you could touch him where he was twitching and throbbing in his pants, though, Lloyd caught your wrist and snatched your hand away. Despite the way Lloyd’s fingers tangled in yours, disappointment crashed over you and you frowned up at him.

“Why don’t you finish your yoga, and then we can talk a bit, figure out exactly what we both want this to be,” Lloyd said in that softer tone of his. It made you feel safe, sweeping away the disappointment you’d felt only a moment ago. “I brought you coffee and a treat.”

Lloyd tipped his head toward the table next to the front door of the apartment, and you looked to see a cardboard tray with two to-go cups. Next to it sat a paper bag with the logo of your favorite bakery stamped on it. 

“You got me coffee?” you asked, tilting your head to the side with confusion. Lloyd never did nice things for you like that. You were just his best friend’s annoying little sister who was crashing with him while she looked for apartments, not someone he’d get a special treat for.

Looking back at Lloyd, you could see a slight pink in his cheeks, and he wouldn’t meet your eye. 

“And a pastry thing with red frosting,” he said, answering your question. When you sat in silence for a beat too long, he finally dragged his gaze to yours, noting your confusion. “Do you not know what day it is?”

You lifted your shoulders in a careless shrug and shook your head. “February…something?” 

Lloyd huffed a laugh. “It’s Valentine’s Day, princess.” His tone was somehow both patronizing and warm, and he rolled his eyes at you for good measure. 

But you were already rolling your eyes right back at him, shoving playfully at his chest. “How was I supposed to know, it’s not like I have anyone—wait!” Your defensive explanation for why you’d forgotten the holiday cut off abruptly as something occurred to you.

Your eyes widened and you looked at Lloyd, studying your brother’s best friend closely. His cheeks were still a little pink with the faint trace of a blush, and the corners of his mouth were flickering like he was trying to hold back a smile.

But it was Lloyd’s eyes that really gave him away. His sparkling blue eyes were glimmering with so much warmth and affection, it made you gasp all over again.

“You got me a Valentine’s Day treat!” 

At your pronouncement, Lloyd tossed his head back and laughed. Your eyes snagged on the long line of his throat, staring greedily and wondering if Lloyd would mind if you paid him back for all his teasing by licking along the corded muscle there. 

When Lloyd finally lowered his head and caught your eye again, there was humor and desire shimmering in the depth of his gaze. 

“I thought it was time we finally do something about all the sizzling chemistry between us,” Lloyd explained, giving you a playful wink. It was on the tip of your tongue to protest—your mouth even opened to deny it—but Lloyd just gave you a hard look. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, cupcake, don’t deny it.”

The memory of Lloyd ducking out of the bathroom in only a towel and striding to his room popped into your head unbidden. Since then, you had been looking at him with much more heat and desire than you ever thought you’d feel for your brother’s best friend, but you’d thought you’d kept it under wraps. 

Apparently not, since Lloyd was giving you such a knowing look. All you could do was scoff and roll your eyes. 

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms while you huffed and puffed and pouted up at him. “Can I have my treat now?”

“Not until you finish your yoga,” Lloyd said sternly, patting your ass as he helped you slide off his lap. You shot him a bratty glare, which only made his eyes darken; his hand slapped your ass a little harder. “Finish your yoga and then you get your treat—and you can play with my cock.”

“Oooh, okay!” you said more eagerly, quickly stretching yourself out on your mat and pulling up the video that had long since finished. You found the spot where Lloyd had distracted you and got back into position before you hit play.

Lloyd gathered the cardboard tray and pastry bag from the table, then sat down on the couch, sipping his coffee while he watched you move through your yoga positions. You knew he watched you the whole time, because you could feel his eyes undressing you, no doubt thinking of other fun ways to interrupt your morning yoga in the future. 

Once you were blessedly done with the yoga routine, you bounced up from the mat and went to Lloyd, who pulled you into his lap before you could sit beside him on the couch. He handed you your coffee and the bag with the pastry. 

While you ate and drank, the two of you discussed what you wanted from a relationship, both inside and out of the bedroom, and whether you’d tell your brother before or after you moved out of Lloyd’s apartment. 

Lloyd promised to help you find your own place, revealing he’d been doing some digging already and had a couple prospects for you to look at. 

After you were done with your coffee and pastry, you slid off Lloyd’s lap, kneeling between his parted legs and begged him to let you have your other treat. Lloyd helped you get his pants down enough for you to pull out his cock. 

You licked him from base to crown, swirling your tongue around the hot, leaking tip and humming in delight when you tasted his salty precum. Looking up at Lloyd from under your lashes, you smiled at him. 

“You taste so sweet, sir,” you purred, before lavishing his cock with all the attention of your warm, devoted tongue. 

Lloyd groaned, mumbling something about how perfect you and your mouth were while you worshipped his cock, teasing him just as much as he’d teased you. When he finally came, it was with a nearly feral growl, his hands pushing your head roughly down on his cock as you swallowed his cum greedily. 

The rest of your Valentine’s Day was spent curled up with Lloyd Hansen, looking up apartment listings in between talking and getting to know each other better. He may have been your brother’s best friend when you’d moved in, but you were both determined that he’d be your boyfriend by the time you moved out. 

sweethearts game masterlist

[yourmidnightlover]

control

(forever? pt 2)

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader (arranged marriage)

summary: after a rough night with bucky, you wake up alone and get some frustrating news from your beloved husband

warnings: reader is insecure/doubts, not eating for 24 hours (out of protest), kind of controlling bucky, violence, if i missed anything, please let me know!

w/c: 2.7k+

a/n: hiii! this is the second part that was in high demand after i posted forever? i hope y'all like it! this has been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever and i finally have had a chance to share it with you all! i hope it's worth the wait :)

part 3 -> the story

you woke up alone, just like every morning in the past two months with the exception of the smell of his cologne only a whisper on your bedsheets. 

maybe you shouldnt have expected anything else from him. he had just felt bad about what happened, about making you cry, that’s all. he couldn’t have you running out on the deal that was made. he just had to save face. it was all business…

there was another knock on the door. two days in a row, which was rather surprising. 

opening the door, you come face to face with bucky’s right hand man, steve. his kind blue eyes shone with a hint of remorse, likely knowing at least a bit of what happened last night from his boss.

“hi,” you smiled, your hand remaining on the doorknob.

“hey,” his eyes examined your face, probably to report back to bucky on how you were doing. as if he couldn’t check on you himself. “are you hungry?”

you turn around to look at the clock that reads 12:30.

“i didn’t realize how late it was,” you shook your head as he chuckled. 

“you probably needed the rest after…” he inhaled a sharp breath. “anyway, bucky wants you to head up to the office. told me to make sure you ate too.”

why couldn’t he show you how caring he was?

maybe that’s why he left so early… because he had stuff in the office to take care of. that was what your mind would assume to save your own ego, at least. 

he took you by a mom and pop diner around the corner from their office, let you eat as many waffles and pieces of bacon as your heart desired until he discreetly paid the bill and then you made your way to the office to meet with your husband. 

stopping outside his door, you heard his voice ringing angry and raging. 

“i said to find him. i don’t care if you have to work all day and night to do it. i’m gonna find out where he is. nobody touches what’s mine and gets away with it.”

was he talking about you? or was he talking about another one of his many possessions or assets. either way, with the tone he was talking about everything, even if he was talking about you, he made it seem as though you were merely an object that was in his trophy case. if he was looking for john in order to reprimand him, it was likely to send a message to everyone else that dared look at him. to ensure they didn’t see him as weak.

he would never do anything for you out of the kindness of his heart, surely.

“do whatever needs to be done. end of discussion.” you heard a dial tone end, followed by steve knocking on the door. 

“glad you made it safely,” bucky nodded towards steve before glancing at your form tucked behind him. “how’re you feelin’?” you shrugged. 

“fine, i guess.”

“thank you, steve,” seemingly dismissing steve, he left the room promptly. “i wanted to talk with you about something.” you remained quiet; he sighed before continuing. “i’ve made some arrangements to get you your own personal bodyguard, for when i’m not around to ensure your safety. they would be ‘round the clock unless approved otherwise or when i’m available to be around you.”

“so i would be watched 24/7?” you finally piped up. “like a child?” you voice was still meek as you mentioned your objection.

“it’s for your safety.” he stepped closer to you, not missing the way your body tensed at the movement. “so that something like what happened last night doesn’t happen again,” his jaw tensed, seemingly at the mention of what happened. 

so someone doesn’t touch his precious trophy again, you thought to yourself. 

“i’m a grown woman. i barely even leave the house, and you think i need more surveillance?” your brows furrowed together as you shrunk into yourself, your shoulders deflating at the thought of losing even more of yourself to this marriage. 

“it happened at our house,” bucky reminded you.

“it happened with you right around the corner, too. y’might as well have a drone following me around at that point,” you scoffed quietly. “what? next i won’t be able to shower by myself.”

“if that’s what it takes to ensure your safety, then that’s what’ll happen.” there was no playfulness or sarcasm in his tone.

“i was joking, you can’t be serious,” you looked at him, feeling stubborn tears beginning to well in your eyes. 

“deadly,” he assured you, his brows raised and his serious tone piercing your heart. “whatever it takes.”

you shook your head as you turned to the door. “no.”

your hand reached the doorknob before he added, “i was running this by you as a courtesy. not to get your permission.”

you froze in your steps, turning to him with a questioning look. a couple tears finally broke free from the dam before you responded, “then what was the point?” with that, you walked out of his office, turning to steve. “is it you?” after seeing the tears streaking your face, the choked sobs leaving your throat, he looked to the ground in defeat. you had your answer. and bucky had your freedom in his hand. 

you really were just a device for him at this point. you play the part of a loving, devoted wife while he probably does whatever he pleases to maintain his image to the public. 

you understood that their businesses were in the public eye and that the news of a finance business being absorbed how it was would draw a lot of attention, but nothing made sense right now. he was being so serious about it all. 24/7 surveillance, a fucking bodyguard… for a finance business merge. it was disheartening, to say the least.

it’s not like you had a say in the matter, anyway. so, steve escorted you safely from the premises back to your gated house, where you locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. 

you didn’t open the door when he tried to ask what you wanted for dinner, or when he tried to give you a sandwich. 

you didn’t even open the door when bucky tried to knock himself once he got home at 11p.m.

or in the morning when they tried to give you breakfast.

or at noon when steve insisted on lunch.

“it’s been almost 24 hours since you’ve eaten,” steve sighed from the other side of the door as you sat at your desk, pen doodling meaningless lines in your notebook as you stared at the blank word document. “bucky’s not gonna be happy if he finds out you haven’t been eating or talking or… anything. you know i have to tell him.”

and you stayed quiet. 

if he wanted a polite little trophy wife, he would get one. but last time trophy wives were a thing was in the 40s, and they weren’t really allowed to say much, so you figured you’d follow suit. 

kind of like your own version of a peaceful protest. 

apparently bucky wasn’t very happy about that. 

he showed up knocking on your door not 20 minutes after steve tried to insist on lunch again. at least he wasn’t busting the door down, much to your surprise.

“it’s bucky, but i’m sure you’ve figured that out,” his voice rang with a certain softness he had with you only two nights ago. “i told steve to go for a little walk so i could talk with you. i was hoping you’d maybe respond?” he tried to open the door, finding it remained locked. “sweetheart, please just eat something. you haven’t even had water since yesterday. you know you have to drink something.” 

you suppose it would look pretty bad for him if his dear wife went to the hospital for dehydration, or starvation for that matter. has the bucky barnes been treating his wife as less than? or has he simply forgotten about his wife? perhaps she’s a weak point for him? 

although he probably wouldn’t admit you to the hospital, he’d probably hire someone to come to the house themselves, sworn to secrecy of some sort. 

you heard rustling on the other side of the door, not footsteps, more like clothing being rustled followed by a thump. his voice rang out lower on the door when he spoke, “i know you’re not happy about having a bodyguard. i understand, i do. you think your freedom is being tarnished and threatened and this is you trying to control what little you can because of that.”

how can he act like he knows you so well? the man who made it seem as though the marriage would be at least a partnership before the words ‘i do’ were uttered. after the honeymoon a flip must’ve been switched in his brain, telling him you were a little toy for him rather than the partner you had agreed to be.

but, after plenty of time to think, you’ve come to realize that you were being rather selfish. as much as you wanted your freedom. you wanted to stick it to the man and tell him that you deserved respect, because you did. 

you also had a duty to your family, to keep them safe. being in this marriage was the only way to do that. and if any questions arose, like bucky’s care for you, then your family would be in danger. 

with a click, you unlocked the door. he must’ve heard it because he slowly opened the door and took a step inside your room, a few feet from you.

“i’m sorry,” you looked at the collar of his suit rather than his eyes. “i’ve been acting rash and immature. i apologize for that.”

“i didn’t-”

“i won’t question your authority again,” you were picking at your nails. “i understand that you need steve to make sure nobody harms me to maintain your image. i respect that. i respect your decision.”

you couldn’t bare to look at his face. your gaze shifted to the floor as he began to nod. 

“does that mean you’ll eat something?” you nodded, chewing on your lower lip before responding. 

“i’m sorry for taking time away from your business,” you moved the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ears, doing anything you could to distract yourself. “i now how valuable your time is.”

“you’re more valuable than all the time i have,” he took a step closer to you before you felt his index finger and thumb gently holding your chin, nudging your head up to look him in the face. “do you understand?” his blue eyes were full of emotion, a mix of them, at that. if you squinted it was almost like there were tears building at the corners of his eyes. but you weren’t squinting anymore. you saw the full picture quite clearly with your eyes wide open. 

“i understand,” you nodded curtly.

you did understand.

you understood that he had an image to maintain. that image, for you and your family, was for him to be a devoted, loving husband to his equally loving and devoted wife. 

his image is his reputation, and no money in the world could buy the reputation he has. 

he let go of your chin, cupping the sides of your face before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, “i brought your favorite with me. steve’s warmed it up in the microwave for when you’re ready for it. just… eat whatever you can. if you’re still hungry i’d gladly go and grab some more for you.”

“aren’t you going back to the office?” you, voluntarily this time, looked into his eyes with furrowed brows. 

“no, my love,” he shook his head before dropping his hands from your face. “i told them i needed to spend the rest of the day with my wife.”

of course. if steve knew about last night, people at the office probably did too. it would look pretty lousy if he didn’t look after his wife after an incident like that. 

“oh,” you nodded as you broke eye contact once more. “that sounds nice.”

you followed him downstairs, where steve had already set your food aside for you to start on. not eating for so long truly did affect you more than you thought. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were, finishing the entire meal in less than 15 minutes. 

bucky was sitting beside you, eating his own food as he made sure you ate and drank, and noticed when you made a happy plate, and cup, might he happily add. 

“wanna go get some more now?” he let his hand float to your hair, raking through your messy locks with a smile growing at the corner of his lips. 

“no, that’s okay,” you shook your head, not wawnting to bother him more than necessary. 

“if you’re still hungry, then that’s not okay,” you looked to see him shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the dining room table. “c’mon,” he stood from the table, holding his hand out for you to take. “we’re going to get s’more food.”

“will we be going alone?” you let your eyes gravitate to where steve stood in the corner of the room, having not been dismissed by bucky yet. 

“steve,” bucky called him over. “you can go home now. i’ve got her. thank you.” he released him from his duties. “now will you come with me?”

you took a second to think. maybe he was a controlling asshole, but what he was doing was for your safety, whether you agreed with it or not. “okay,” you nodded, figuring it was also best you went along with whatever he said. he seemed to get whatever he wanted anyways. “can we just go through a drive through somewhere?”

“if that’s what you want…” he nodded, surprisingly agreeing to your proposal. “where to?”

“... mcdonalds?” you suggested once more.

“of course, my love,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, oddly affectionate since nobody was around. “when we get back i’ll arrange hiring a chef for you, as well. i won’t have you going hungry if i can help it.”

“you don’t have to-”

“i will.” 

you knew better than to argue. you wouldn’t poke the bear if you could help it. sure, he’s told you he wouldn’t hurt you. you were his wife and if news came out that he had hurt his wife in any way, his reputation would be threatened. 

you couldn’t help but remember every warning your friends told you about going into a relationship with this man. warnings about being on your toes, watching your back, never letting your guard down. 

in your mind, this was just one more reason you wouldn’t have to leave the house. another little piece of freedom taken from you in a roundabout sense. 

“okay,” you nodded, accepting your fate as someone who would eventually be trapped in their house forever.

he took you through the drive through at mcdonald’s, getting you whatever you wanted and an oreo mcflurry. on the way home, eating the mcflurry before it melted, it was a silent ride. and not a very comfortable one, probably due to your suspicions about him wanting to control you. 

maybe him controlling you wouldn’t be so bad… he was kind to you, provided for you, made sure you didn’t want for anything. but with that, went a lot of your heart, freedom, and control.  

TAGS:

@nefri-black

[lovelettersfrommai]

oh please, please, please go into heavy detail about tapping joaquín out at his graduation, i neeeed it 🙏🙏

Well...since you asked so nicely!

Tapping Joaquín out at his BMT Graduation :)

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x fem! reader

A/N: I know that Top Gun is the Navy, therefore this gif isn't accurate. I doubt y'all give a shit whether or not my military accuracy is the greatest, but I do kinda know what i'm talking about LOL (I have a couple family members in the airforce). Also, I was gonna do headcanons and then it spiraled into this...let me know if it's okay.

Word Count: 1,157

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Marvel related, I am merely a nerd who hyperfixates a lot. I also had to make up / guesstimate a timeline since it's not to clear as to what age Joaquín is supposed to be, just that he survived the blip.

Warnings !: Mentions of taking place during the blip (only a warning because reader doesn't have any family members who survived it.)

Your flight was late last night. You would’ve been there yesterday, but due to an unfortunate series of flight delays and cancellations, you had been stuck in Miami longer than anticipated.

Luckily, Joaquín’s mother and abuela had gotten in just fine, so they were able to spend the day with him, watching the morning run and his coin ceremony. Joaquín had eagerly sent over pictures as soon as he got his phone back, the three of them at the Alamo, and at various locations around San Antonio. Your heart banged with sadness at the notion of not being able to be there, but ever the gentleman, he reassured you that it wasn’t your fault. 

Now here you were again, early in the morning at the Lackland Air force base with his mother and abuela, just waiting for the graduation to start. You had driven them onto base, seeing as neither of them had a military ID, but you were happy to do it. Your leg was anxiously bouncing on the metal bleachers. His mom tells you how yesterday at his ceremony he was awarded as the best BMT graduate. It surprises you since he hadn’t mentioned it in any of the letters he wrote to you, but the more you think about it, that is exactly something that he would do. There’s a cool breeze blowing at your hair, despite it being August, and the sun is slowly rising. Joaquín’s mother, Esperanza, gently lays her hand on your knee. 

“Cálmate, Mija. It’ll be okay.” She gently rubs circles onto your skin, hoping to soothe whatever nerves you may have. You put your hand over hers, squeezing it gently. Ever since you lost your family members in the blip, Joaquín’s family had 

“I know, Mamá. It’s just…we haven’t been separated since we started dating. What if he spent this time away and he realizes this isn’t what he wanted-“ She gently smacks your arm, making you let out a small yelp. 

“Hey. He’s your husband. We spent the entire day with him yesterday, and he wouldn’t stop talking about you, Mija. I think it’s safe to say that the two months that you two were separated didn’t impact the way he thinks about you.” You sigh as you rub at your, now slightly sore, upper arm. You know she’s right. Joaquín had only ever shown interest in you since you officially started dating all those years ago, but the insecurity that bloomed in your stomach couldn’t be helped. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be thinking that way…He’s a good man, Mamá.” Esperanza nods in agreement. 

“And if he wasn’t, I’d smack him too. He knows better.” That makes you chuckle. 

“I missed him. A lot.” You feel your eyes sting with tears at the thought. She squeezes your hand gently. It doesn’t help that you know this isn’t the end. He still has to go to tech school, and do more training until he can finally do Recon like he set out to do. 

“You’re gonna see him today. I know it’s just the beginning, but you two have something…I can’t even describe. It’s stronger than any distance.” His mother says gently. His Abuela chimes in a bit, speaking Spanish. You only really know bits and pieces, having a high school speaking level. You recognize the words, Love. Eyes. Esperanza translates for you. 

“There’s an old proverb. It means ‘Love is shown through the eyes.’ Mamá is saying that she knows you two will get through it because she’s seen the way Quíno looks at you…and I agree.”  You wipe your eyes. 

“You’re right. We’ll be fine.” You turn to grab his Abuela’s hand, squeezing it gently. 

“Gracias, Abuelita.” 

~

The ceremony starts, and the three of you keep an eye out for Joaquín, though it is a little bit hard with everyone having the exact same uniform and haircut. It takes a little time but you do see him, somewhere in the middle of the pack of graduates. His face is neutral as he marches past, looking straight in front of him. He walks perfectly in sync with his fellow airmen.

As it wraps up, and all the graduates stand in their blues under the blazing Texas sun, You guide his Abuela, making sure she’s stable on the grass field as the three of you search for your husband in the sea of soldiers once again. 

The time comes when you finally lay eyes on him again. He’s standing right there, just a few feet away, his arms tucked behind his back the way that he was taught to do. His gaze is forward, and he doesn’t even fidget, a stark contrast from the Joaquín you last saw two months ago. His mom pushes you closer towards him.

“Go, Mija. Tap him out.” You whip your head around to look at her, shaking your head. 

“But-“ You're cut off by the wave of her hand.

“We got to do it yesterday. I think Quíno would like his wife now.” She takes Abuela’s hand to support her instead. They both usher you towards him, falling not too far behind.

It’s not long before you meet face to face. His gaze is forward but distinctly not on you, rather past you. You understand the rules. He’s not allowed to move from this position until you touch him. Your eyes can’t help but water at the sight of him, and even though you want nothing more than to touch him, you resist. 

“Joaquín…I am so proud of you. I missed you so much. I know it was hard to be away from us, but you’re just so strong. You’re stubborn, and just so so good. This is what you wanted, and I'm just glad I could be here to support you…” You watch as tears stream down his face, but he makes no move to wipe at them. The discipline and strength that he’s gained over these eight weeks is reflective in the way he’s holding himself now.

“I love you so much.” With that, you wrap your arms around him, effectively tapping him out. He immediately returns the embrace. You feel his tears drop against the crook of your neck as he holds you close. You press a kiss to his cheek, and he immediately pulls away so he can kiss you on the lips. It’s passionate, and comforting and it communicates exactly what he wants to say: ‘I missed you too.’ 

His mother and abuela not so subtly snap pictures of the two of you, but you really don’t even notice. All you can focus on is him. You wipe at his face, chuckling at his emotional reaction. It rubs off on him too, he chuckles and removes your hands from his face, pressing kisses to your knuckles.

“I love you too.” He whispers the words, and presses a kiss to your temple.

A/N: Feel free to leave comments and critiques. I'm always open to feedback !

[sophsicle]

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

The Quick Guide of Taking Care of Yourselves

RIGHT ANYWAY, semi-functioning again. Here's some generic tips for Americans (and beyond) in these trying times.

Limit Your Social Media News Consumption

Seriously, you need to set specific times to be aware of what's going on, and then you need to put down your phone. Many of the things that are happening are beyond your control. Doomscrolling is paralyzing. Do not fall into despair loops. This helps no one and it especially does not help you.

Make a channel in your Discord group for dumping things in and leave it to that. Find ways to plug into your local community - talk to your local library, check your local subreddit, pay attention to local events. But you also must give yourself a break from all of the above for your own mental health.

Pick a set time at night and put down your phone. Don't scroll through it before bed, don't start scrolling the second you get up. Form firm habits that allow you to rest and take care of yourself. It's important to be aware of what's happening, but it does not require your constant attention.

Do Things For Yourself

In addition to making art, it's important to find ways to keep yourself grounded. Take a class you're interested in. Go to that book club. See if there's a local group into that hobby you want to start. Need to brush up on your technical skills? See if there's some online classes that you can take (and get a certificate for!).

Don't over-commit (I say, having signed up for three different activities this year), but it is vital to take time to do things for yourself to stay grounded. Having other things to focus on is going to help. I'm taking a strength-building exercise class and German lessons, and having to focus on squats and gendered nouns for certain hours of the day has been so helpful in keeping me going. Give it a try.

(You don't have to try German, just to be clear. I just think it's a neat language.)

You Do Not Have to Constantly Rearrange Your Priorities

I donate monthly to my local animal shelter. That's still going to be an important thing to do. I reblog things I don't have the funds to contribute to myself. That's still useful to do. I'm still going to pay for my patreon subscriptions, because I am supporting people I like and want to succeed.

There are some things you can do. If you are in a position to cancel Amazon Prime, you should probably do that. But some people can't, because they don't have a more reliable way to get certain necessities, and that's fine. If you're in a position to close your Meta accounts, that seems like a good call. However, while I've currently got mine locked down, I need my Instagram for professional reasons, and it's my only point of contact for certain people. I hate it, but I've made the decision to keep using it. There's no morally perfect options out there.

Think Local and Connect with Community

You cannot do anything about most of the terrible things happening. You can, however, make connections to the people around you and find ways to support yourself and others. You can find places to volunteer. You can participate in your local political groups and keep up-to-date on protests and political action. You can keep pressure on your local politicians with phone-calling and letter campaigns. Making connections to others will help you find ways to feel useful and help, even if it doesn't feel like you can.

Most importantly, though, MAKE SURE YOU ARE SAFE. If you're a vulnerable minority in a deep red state or desperately need to keep your head down at your job, you need to make decisions that are best for you. You cannot help others if you yourself are also drowning, and that is okay.

There are still some small things everyone can do. Boycotts of certain products and companies (shout-out to all of Canada, keep it up and I hope for nothing but the best for y'all) is something you can do that doesn't put you at risk. Stay connected to like-minded friends. Stock up on masks and get your vaccines. Have an emergency-prepared plan in cases of natural disasters (always a good plan).

Hang in there. Sometimes you'll spiral, everyone will. But keeping your head above water and building steps to pull yourself up from those holes will be essential.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

MEETINGS, GREETINGS N BREEDINGS (Geto x Choso x Sukuna x Black!F!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Rockstars!Geto Suguru x Choso Kamo x Sukuna Ryomen x Popstar!Reader

Synopsis: You’re a well-known pop star who has shocked sound waves around the world and stolen the hearts of your fans….including three unlikely, sexy, and tattooed ones that you’re all too familiar with.

One night, your favorite rock band and secret fans come to visit you backstage after one of your shows to confront you about you leaving their concert so soon after sneaking backstage and somehow making them all obsess over you. Even those who aren’t particularly fond of your bubblegum pop music.

Your team won’t be too happy about you spending any time with people who could “destroy” your image, but who gives a fuck when you’re getting laid by three hot rockers? 

Tags: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS DNI), Rock Band/Musician AU, No Curse AU, Meet N Greet, Fan/Groupie!Reader, Alcohol + Marijuana, Teasing/Highkey Flirting, Foursome, Pleasure Doms!Geto + Choso x Mean Dom!Sukuna x fsub!Reader, Crushing, Sexual Tension, Dubcon/R*pe, Coercion, Spit Play/Spitting In Mouth, Triple Blowjob, Cunnilingus/Analingus, Anal Play, Triple Stuffing, Riding, Anal Sex, Oral Sex (Giving & Receiving), Public Sex, Exhibitonism, Cum Play, Breeding Kink, Analpie + Creampie, Facial, Caught In The Act

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: I've had this idea for THE LONGEST TIME & I'm so obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter's fine ass that I just needed to write about a Black "girly pop" pop star getting dicked down by her rockstar BF/crushes. I thought this one was hot & I hope y'all do too! -Jazz

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Another night. Another show. Another adoring crowd. 

The sounds of their endless applause and cheering combined with the last few notes of your hit song are like roaring seas in your ears, making your eardrums vibrate and your head swim. You grin with pride down at the thousands of twinkling cellphone lights in the rows of seats like stars in the sky.

“Thank you guys so much!” you shout into your bedazzled mic. “Did everyone have a great time?!” 

The crowd screams with excitement and happiness all for you, dozens of signs and shirts with your face on them facing you. These are the moments that make a two-hour show worth it.

All of the quick changes into your glittery, skimpy outfits. Risking bunions in your heels after dancing across the stage in them. Facing burnout and physical exhaustion show after show. It is all worth it to put on a good show for your adoring fans. 

You suppose it is because you’re a slut for praise. “See you guys next time!” you call, just as the platform you’re standing on lowers you down, down, down from the stage. “Stay safe and come back to see me again! Bye-bye!” You give a final wave and blow a big kiss to the crowd before you are finally off the stage and underneath it instead. 

Then it’s the rush of reality: breaking down the stage props and set-up and hurrying to get to the next location. As soon as you’re off stage, Maki, your assistant, agent, and friend, swoops in with a towel for you to dab your makeup with, setting spray, and an ice cold water in your pink Stanley Cup.

You smile in thanks at her, glad to have something to soothe your parched throat and cool you down. You two walk together to your dressing room as the backstage explodes with activity: dancers, staff, and stagehands all do their best to wrap things up in time for the next stop. 

Tour season is always hectic. It isn’t the most exciting thing in your career due to all of the mental and physical turmoil it can cause, but it’s worth it to wear cute outfits and see your pretty fans. “Soooo that’s show #45 down,” Maki says, checking something off on her iPad as she briskly walks with you in her heels. “Now you just have a Meet n Greet, and then you’ll have some downtime before we have to head out for the next location.” 

You turn to face her, sipping on your water and doing your best to avoid ruining your glitter lipgloss. “How much downtime?” you suspiciously ask. Your agent peers over her black-framed glasses, knowing that you already know that your “break” is on a time crunch as usual. “About fifteen minutes at this point.” 

“Ohhh, Maki, come on!” you whine, rolling your eyes. Maki pauses in the hallway with you, placing a hand on her hip in her black pants, top, and suit. “Look, you knew the drill when you entered this business, Y/N. I’m just trying to keep you on your toes and make things as easy for you as possible as your agent.” 

You scoff at her response, knowing that she is right but still needing to rest your head. “But I need a break! I’ve been on the road for months now with no free time or days off.” You haven’t gotten a serious break in three months now! Breaks are scarce on tour and since you’re making a lot of money with tickets each night when you perform, you know that your manager is hesitant about wasting even a single day that isn’t in a stadium or rehearsing. 

“What’s this I hear about days off?” You and Maki both jump at the sound of your manager’s familiar deep voice. You both turn like kids caught in the cookie jar, staring up at the older man with the sharp suit, glasses, and the stern look that only a dad could have. 

You don’t feel an ounce of discomfort standing with the older man in your glittery, shimmery pink skin-tight mini dress, thigh-high boots, and push-up bra to make your breasts look even juicer than usual. Your manager has been in your corner for four years now, giving you the career you’ve dreamed about since you were young. “Mr. Manager!” Maki exclaims, standing tall and rigid. “Uh….Y/N just feels a little drained from the tour.” 

You roll your eyes at her attempt at softening the blow to appease your manager and her boss. “A little? I can barely find words to speak because I’m so exhausted.” Your manager scoffs, fixing his glasses and shaking his head. “Dramatic as usual.” Despite the small smile on his face, you can tell he isn’t happy to hear this. 

You look at Maki for reassurance, but she is more afraid of losing her job over every little thing, so you know you will have to handle this. But you’re a big girl. You’re not afraid of handling anything in your path. So you clear your throat and dab the sweat off of your forehead before you face your manager. “Mr. Manager, sir, it’s not that I’m not thankful for all of the work you put in for this tour, but—”

“You need a break?” he interrupts, raising an eyebrow at you. It makes your body flush with apprehension. “I thought you got that break the night we were in Tokyo, and you went to see that horrible band that I specifically forbade you from associating with.” He crosses his hairy arms over his chest, keeping that same firm, knowing brow that makes you flush. 

‘He knows!’ you think. You were hoping your manager wouldn’t find out about your little “escapade” last Friday night to downtown Tokyo where you saw your favorite rock/heavy metal band, The Curses.

Comprised of three members in total, you have been a fan of the popular band for over five years now. They only started popping off two years ago and recently won a Grammy for “Best Rock Album” which propelled them deeper into popularity. They are now on tour, starting in Japan before moving onto international countries in two months. 

You know that people looking at you or listening to your girly, bubblegum pop songs wouldn’t suspect that you listen to that hardcore shit. You know that people wouldn’t suspect that you’ve got a thing for the guys with tattoos, piercings, or “don’t give a fuck” attitudes either. But it isn’t your fault! It’s The Curses’ fault for being so goddamn sexy! 

Geto Suguru, the guitarist, Choso Kamo, the bassist, and Sukuna Ryomen, the drummer, take up a good portion of your nights when you are alone. You listen so intently to the way Geto croons against the strings of an electric guitar. Or the way Choso’s sweet yet raspy tones shift into a sheer scream that excites you. Or the way Sukuna’s brash drumming skills rattle your eardrums and make you think about how big those arms are. 

And they are. Each member is so big. So tall. Muscles inked with tattoos and skin adorned in piercings. They are the epitome of “bad boys” according to your manager. Saying that he doesn’t like The Curses or the fact that you’re so infatuated with them are understatements. He’s made arrangements to sit you away from them at award shows. While arranging your tour dates, he scheduled you to perform in places opposite to them. 

Your manager takes your public image very seriously which is important for a star like you. You are well aware that the conservative parents would be on your ass even more if you were engaging with a shit-talking, tatted-up rockstar. “I don’t want you associating with anyone that can tarnish your image, Y/N,” your manager explained to you. “What you do on your own time in private is one thing, but engaging in anything in public is something else!” 

And you realized that he was right. Your image is important to you too, especially when it comes to social media and paparazzi ready to catch you slipping. You’ve been going to clubs and hooking up in private for years now! You’re already very private about what you do, where you go, and who you see…so why stop there? 

So after rehearsals, you kept that same energy last week when you went out on a whim to the venue that The Curses were performing at in downtown Tokyo. You had some downtime and figured you’d enjoy a night of freedom by seeing your favorite band in concert for the first time. You wore a skin-tight workout romper over your pink hoodie and paired it with a baseball cap (to be safe). Because your driver cares about his job, he drove you to the venue and promised to keep things under wraps if anyone asked. 

Seeing the three rockstars wasn’t something you regretted. It was a treat to see the three strum those guitars, bang on those drums, and belt out the lyrics you knew by heart into their mics. It was especially something to see them strip off their shirts, exposing each ripping muscle etched in ink and glistening in sweat. You felt yourself throb and grow hot under your hoodie. You aren’t usually come off too eager for men due to your profession, but for those three? You were ready to sell your soul for a slice of dick from them. 

You felt like the world disappeared around you as you stood in that pit with other adoring fans, none of them recognizing you (as far as you know) and feeling like you were one with the real world as the band played hit after hit. You felt like Choso locked eyes with you a few times and like maybe Sukuna stared into the crowd at you, his intense crimson eyes leaving you speechless, but you suppose that maybe it was the drink in your cup or wishful thinking. 

However, after the show ended and you watched two girls fight over Geto’s sweaty towel that he wiped across his abs before tossing it into the crowd, you made a decision that you immensely regret now: you snuck backstage to see them. You don’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that you were tired of your manager telling you what to do that made you so reckless, but before you knew it, you were signing an autograph for the band’s bodyguards and having them whisk you backstage to meet your faves. 

You took a deep breath and fixed your hair out of its trap in your baseball cap before you knocked on their dressing room. Sukuna, in all of his six-foot something glory, answered the door, still shirtless and in his low-rise jeans. Your brain went blank as your eyes roamed over each ripping muscle, the pierced nipples attached to his massive pecs, and the ‘Look Here’ tattoo inked beneath his belly button to his cut lower stomach pebbled with fine, pink hair that trailed down to his– 

“Helloooo?” he sung, cocking his head to the side. He wore a humorous smirk as he stared down at you, his spiked pink hair looking soft to the touch. “You okay?” 

You swallowed hard, flushing in your hoodie. “Hi!” you chirped a little too loudly. “I-I’m—” 

“Yeah, I know who you are,” he interrupted, still smiling at you. His tongue jutted out to lick his bottom lip and silver lip rings, making you think of him licking something else. “Someone’s gonna bust their nut seein’ you here.” Your eyes widened at his lewd words, your stomach flip-flopping. 

“Who’s at the door, Sukuna?” someone called from inside. Then Geto appeared, just as tall and just as sexy in his loose tank top, enviously long black hair, and ripped jeans. He paused when he saw you, shocked before his expression softened. “Wow, what a surprise. You’re cuter in person, y’know.” He gave you a smile adorned with his lip ring before he called for the third member. “Choso, you’ve got a visitor! A fan, it seems.” 

And then came Choso who wandered out of his bedroom in Kuromi socks and a white tee that did nothing to hide his toned body. He stared at you as if you were a mythical creature, his mascara-rimmed eyes wide. His cheeks went pink like the softest petals on a rose, somewhat making you throb. “Shit,” he breathed. “I could’ve sworn I just smoked too much before the show, but…that was really you in the audience tonight.” 

Geto shared a knowing smile with Sukuna before he stuck his big hand out for you. “Nice to officially meet you, Y/N.” You nearly creamed at the sound of his name escaping his lips. “You too,” you giggled, shaking his hand. You ignored the zip of electricity that shot through your veins as his calloused palm met yours. 

“Listen, I’m sorry to come through so randomly like this, but I was just wondering if I can get an autograph. I’m a fan of yours.” You dug your phone out of your crossbody bag, wanting all three on your phone case, but trying not to come off over excited or eager in the face of your three idols. “Ohhh, the pop princess is a fan of ours?” Geto chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. “What an honor. So you want our autographs, eh?” 

“Only if you give him an autograph too,” Sukuna joked, nodding at a glaring Choso. “What? You’ve been tellin’ us you wanted one for years now!” You nearly combust right there. Choso is a fan of yours? Are the others fans of your music too? 

Geto switched places, leaning his hip against the doorway. “We were just celebratin’ the end of our show. You should come in and hang for a bit with us.” Choso took his place behind the bassist, fidgeting with the tie on his sweats and earning your attention. Especially when it came to the black nail polish on his nails. How would those fingers look sinking inside your–? 

“Unless you’re scared,” Sukuna chuckled, giving you a playful smirk. “I’m sure your circle ain’t filled with guys like us.” As if to make this clear, he slid a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit it up right in front of you, his crimson eyes locked on yours. The way his rings glinted and the black polish on his nails glistened had you ready to drop to your knees and suck his cock right there! 

If this was done to intimate you, it did the exact opposite. It only made you feel more reckless and way more aroused than you were during the show. “Only if you have beer,” you giggled. The members looked shocked at your agreement to stay, but all the more pleased to have you there as Geto let you come inside their dressing room. 

You stayed for about thirty minutes, chatting, drinking, and lowkey flirting with the bandmates. Geto and Choso got into a guitar battle, each one challenging the other to play certain notes as fast as possible on their strings. You just watched, imaging those fingers somewhere else moving just as quickly. As the effects of the beer started to kick in, you felt more open sitting between the three men on the couch. More risky. More flirtatious. 

You giggled at Geto’s jokes. You complimented Choso’s songwriting and ear piercings just to see him blush. You foolishly took Sukuna up on smoking a blunt, giving him the finger when he laughed as you coughed and Choso got you some water to ease your lungs. Once the sexual thoughts started coming and the touches started coming (Choso’s knee brushing yours but not moving away; Sukuna’s hand on your thigh; Geto moving a piece of hair away from your glossy lips), you knew it was time to go. 

You made an excuse about rehearsals being in the morning to which they took no problem. “Let us know what show you got comin’ up before you leave Cali,” Geto said as he walked you outside to your ride. “Maybe we’ll come through and see you perform.” He gave you a one-armed hug at the door, leaving your hoodie drenched in his scent and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke. 

That night, you went back to your condo after successfully dodging paparazzi and used your trusty rose toy on yourself to the thought of those three tattooed studs with Geto’s cologne on the pink hoodie covering your naked body, whimpering out their names as you came two times that night. 

You immensely regret your decisions now as your manager gives you the evil eye. You gape at Maki who quickly puts her hands up in defense. “I-It wasn’t me!” she stammers. Your manager shakes his head disappointedly at you. “You forget I have eyes everywhere, Y/N. How else am I supposed to protect my biggest pop star?” 

Knowing him, he could have bribed your driver. He could have had people at the venue where The Curses were performing. You swallow hard, trying to think of a counter argument or an apology, but your manager cuts you off. “Oh, and not only did you risk your safety and go to a show by yourself, you also went backstage with the assholes, apparently.” 

You scowl at him, alarmed by him knowing this…then you realize it. “You tracked my phone, didn’t you?” you hiss. Your manager blushes, realizing that he’s been caught. He had a habit of doing that to you before and you told him how much you hated it. “You said you’d stop doing that! I’m not a fucking kid!” 

Your manager looks around at the prying eyes, realizing that you were doing this in the hall. “Let’s discuss this in private.”

But you step away from him, enraged, nearly knocking into Maki who quickly takes your Stanley cup in fear of you bashing it across your manager’s head. “No! I understand that I put my safety in jeopardy, and I take full accountability for it, but fuck, I needed a break! And I wanted to see my favorite band, so why couldn’t I?” 

Your manager’s jaw tenses (not a good sign) and he takes his iPhone out. Wordlessly, he taps away on his phone before he shoves it in your face, showing you TMZ’s website…and several photos of you at The Curses’ concert. You walking into the venue. You in the audience. You walking backstage. You hugging Geto outside. 

Oh. So maybe you weren’t as successful as you thought. 

“Your image is already being tarnished with the trashy tabloids catching flicks of you and that band,” your manager huffs. “They’re bad news, Y/N, and you know it. When you agreed to be in this business and signed that dotted line, you agreed to the image WE constructed for YOUR career!” 

You wither at the photos and under your manager’s scrutiny. You feel stupid and embarrassed. All you wanted was a night to yourself and this happens? Maki quickly steps in though and passes your manager’s phone back to him, hiding the photos from view. “She can’t perform if she’s mentally exhausted, Mr. Manager. Just give it some thought.” 

Your manager heaves a sigh and pockets his phone. “Very well. Just go to your dressing room before your Meet N Greet tonight. We can talk about this later.” At the sound of a crash, he quickly excuses himself and hurries off to see what the fuss is about. Maki walks you to your dressing room, tentative yet cautious, not wanting you to pop off or break down. You already feel like glass, vulnerable and transparent. 

She leans against the door and warily watches you as you rip off your boots, plopping down on the couch. “I just got word that the Meet N Greet start time was extended because of a medical issue, so your break time is extended. I’ll come get you when the event starts. Call me if you need anything.” 

You barely look at her as you mutter out a saddened “I’m fine.” She doesn’t push it and instead leaves you to decompress and be alone with your thoughts. You use the next ten minutes to strip, shower, play your soothing music, and fix your makeup for your Meet N Greet in your vanity mirror. You are just applying setting spray when– 

Knock-knock! 

You roll your eyes rimmed in mascara and glitter before you storm over to the door in your pink robe. “Maki, I told you I’m fine,” you groan. But when you open your door, it isn’t your agent standing there at all. Your agent isn’t six foot, beefy and buff, tatted up, or a man with spiked pink hair. “Who the fuck is Maki?” Sukuna grumbles, scowling in confusion at you. 

Choso stands behind his bandmate in his usual black attire, though he ditched the tee for a muscle tee that squeezes his pecs. “Her agent! She was just with us, you dumbass!” he growls. Sukuna turns to the guitarist, glaring daggers at him. “Call me a dumbass again and see what happens.”

Geto in his deadly Sex Pistols crop top and jeans combo luckily steps in before the two can fight. “Stop. We’re not here to fight in front of this cutie’s door. We’re here to congratulate her on her amazing show.” He turns to you with a smile, his handsome face accentuated by his long ponytail. 

You stare up at the three men towering over you, making you feel ten times shorter than you are. You can’t believe it. They’re really here. “Y-You came?” you dumbly ask, your voice soft and whispery. Sukuna and Geto flat out laugh at your response while Choso does his best to stifle his. 

“I was serious about payin’ you a visit,” Geto says with a smile. “You were really good.” You feel your face heat at the compliment, exposing yourself as a praise slut down to the bone. “We’re fans of yours too. ‘Specially him, remember?”

He nods at a blushing Choso who elbows him in the ribs. Sukuuna leans against the doorframe, making you think of a giant with how fucking tall he is.

“That was some outfit you had on at the finale,” he croons in his deep, tantalizing voice. You notice Choso’s eyes roam over your robe, making you feel exposed despite the covering. You feel yourself throb at the idea of them admiring you in your costumes tonight, somewhere in the dark in the audience. 

Despite still being starstruck, you manage to swallow your spit and open your mouth to talk. “T-Thank you,” you stammer. “Um….you guys wanna come in? I’ve got snacks and drinks. Alcohol included.” You open your door wider to reveal the pink walls and plush pillows in your dressing room. “You guys make yourselves at home and I’ve got plenty in the fridge.” 

“R-Really?” Choso stammers, looking like a wide-eyed raccoon with his eyeliner. “You sure it’s okay? We wouldn’t want to–” 

Sukuna silences him by wrapping an arm around his neck, squeezing him into his armpit. “Shut up and get inside, dummy,” he huffs, dragging the bass player into your dressing room.

Geto follows after, giving you a whiff of his cologne as he passes you. All of them smell good: Geto has a hint of vanilla in his cologne while Sukuna smells more like pine and Choso has a sprinkling of orange combined with sandalwood. You want to wrap yourself up in all of these scents and have them stain your clothes. 

As you shut the door, you watch as the three men look around your room, so comically big that they make the room look like one out of a dollhouse. “Cute room,” Geto comments. “It’s fit for a princess.” He glances at you as he says this, making you flush inside of your fluffy robe. “Did Maki send you?” you curiously ask. 

He nods, trailing his finger over one of your pink, plushy pillows on your couch. “She did. Gave us backstage passes and hats too, so nobody would be suspicious.” You make a mental note to thank your agent later.

Sukuna stands over by your kitchenette, his brows narrowed. “Why? You afraid to be seen with us?” Choso and Geto shoot him a glare that says, ‘Shut the fuck up’.

But you don’t take any offense to it, already knowing how hot-headed and aggressive Sukuna can come off. “No way! I just don’t want you guys to get in trouble. My manager isn’t very fond of you.” Sukuna snorts at this, waving off your worry. “Like we give a fuck.” 

“We won’t be here for long,” Geto reassures you, giving you a wink. “We just wanted to check in on you after you bailed on us last Friday night.” 

“Yeah, we were sure you got sick or something,” Choso says, awkwardly standing by your couch as if he has no idea what to do. Sukuna chuckles, taking a banana from the fruit basket on your counter. “Or that you ain’t like us no more.” He begins to peel it right in front of you and eat it, much to Choso’s scathing glare. 

You start to feel guilty for cutting your night so short when you were hoping for so much more…but maybe you can make up for it now. You take a seat on your couch, laughing off their assumptions. “Definitely not that. Sorry I had to leave so soon, but I can make up for it now. I told you I was a fan…and plus, the tattoos help.” You lock eyes with each of them, your tone no doubt flirtatious and suggestive. 

Each of the rockstars take notice of your change in demeanor, suddenly stopping whatever they were doing to give you the attention you desire. Sukuna finishes the banana, tossing the peel into the trash can. “You like tattoos?” he asks, his voice making delicious chills roll down your spine. His crimson blood eyes on you give you a sudden sense of confidence that makes you want to act up. “Mmm-hmm. And drummers.” 

You watch as Sukuna’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by your boldness, before a smirk stretches across his face. Geto takes a chance and sits down next to you on your left, crossing one long leg over his knee. “Not guitarists? I’m hurt.” He presses a big hand to his heart, right in the middle of his broad, mouth-watering chest. 

Sukuna scoffs, suddenly over near you despite having just been in the kitchenette, and takes a seat on your right, sandwiching you between himself and Geto. “Please. You act like you’re the only one who can play a fuckin’ guitar.” You hum thoughtfully to yourself, looking between the two members’ strong, talented, capable, inked hands. “With fingers like yours, I’m sure you two go head to head.” 

You didn’t mean for that to sound as sexual as it did, but it does and all three take notice of it. The air shifts to something that is tense with a sexual energy that makes you want to strip off your robe and douse yourself in cold water. Geto tosses an arm behind the couch, right behind your head. “We could always show you again, y’know. I’m no sore loser, but I don’t back down easily, either. Especially in front of cute girls.” The way he is looking at you makes you want to melt into the couch, his gaze laced with seduction. 

The only thing that keeps you from possibly jumping on the two members is Choso’s fine ass. “You keep the water in here, right?” he asks, opening your mini fridge. You nod, telling him to help himself, and exposing your little alcohol collection. Choso takes the bottle of tequila out of the fridge, holding it up with a humored smile. 

“What kinda stress are you under to have a bottle of that in your dressin’ room, girl?” Sukuna scoffs with a laugh. You shrug, giggling along with the members. “My manager. Paparazzi. The constant strains of pressure and fame…y’know how it goes.” 

“We should break that open then,” Geto suggests, telling Choso to bring over some paper cups. He does, but brings over some water too, sitting down next to Sukuna with the drinks. “So you think your dad, I mean your manager, would approve of us bein’ in here with his precious little popstar?” Sukuna asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You passively shrug as Choso passes you a cup and pours you a shot of the tequila. You can’t bring yourself to care about your manager or your career right now. “Probably not…but he ain’t here right now, is he?” You give each member a sneaky, playful smile. “Plus, this is my dressing room and I can have whoever I want in it.” 

A playful, flirtatious light flickers in Geto’s violet eyes, his handsome face making it almost impossible to look at him. “So you want us here?” he asks, his voice dipping low, so low that it makes your nether regions tremble. Instead of answering and drawing your cards all at once, you raise your cup for a toast. “Cheers to a great show and even greater company,” you chirp. The four of you clink cups because taking a shot of the strong, clear liquid. 

As soon as it slides down your throat, making it sting, and settles in your stomach, you feel a rush of the warmth that you needed to feel tonight. That warmth grows hotter and hotter like a volcano as time ticks by, chatting and lowkey flirting with the band members. You talk about everything under the sun: favorite artists, animals, places you’ve traveled, foods, movies, etc. You laugh over funny stories and discuss what you’d want to do with your career in ten years. 

Suddenly, the band members have been in your dressing room for a half an hour now and you don’t take any notice because of how much you enjoy them being in your presence. And because you’re drunk. You’ve taken too many shots and the tequila is working its wicked ways on you, leading you to strip off your robe and reveal the cropped pink top and teeny, tiny shorts underneath. 

You take no notice of the way the three stare at you, their eyes roaming over your legs and the way your thighs peek out under your skirt. Choso winds up next to you since Sukuna got up to ravage your mini fridge. You reach out to gently stroke Choso’s forearm where a tattoo of his little brother’s face is (Yuji, his name is). “I like your tattoos,” you slur. “They’re so pretty.” 

The bassist's eyes flicker with light while his cheeks grow pink. “Oh, yeah? You said you like tattoos.” His confidence is oozing out now, the both of you acting up off the tequila. You lazily nod, your hand trailing down to his elbow, his skin hot to the touch. “Mmm-hmm. And piercings.” 

“Uh-oh,” Geto chuckles from your left. “Somebody’s a little tipsy.” He sounds far away but near at the same time. Sukuna comes back over with a bottle of chocolate vodka and plops down next to Choso, making the couch shake. “Let’s give her some more. She’s cute when she’s drunk.” He pours you a shot of the vodka, a deviant smirk on his face. 

But then you remember…don’t you have something important to do later? “Oh, I-I shouldn’t—” 

“It’s your dressin’ room, ain’t it?” the drummer interrupts. “You can do whatcha want.” He pauses, stifling a laugh. “Don’t tell me ya let your manager tell ya whatever he wants ya to.”

You flush at his teasing, hesitantly taking the cup from him. The sweet aroma of the chocolate mixed with the strong scent of the vodka stimulates your nostrils. Sukuna grins at you and he suddenly reminds you of the Big Bad Wolf and you’re being seduced to his jaw. 

“A girl like you deserves a break, right?” he chuckles.

Yes. Yes, you do.

So you take the shot. Choso takes it with you, hooking your arms together to down them at the same time. Once the vodka is down, you lean back against the couch to gather yourself, but the couch feels too solid. It’s Geto’s chest. You’re too drunk to be embarrassed about it. 

“So you said you like piercings.” His statement takes a moment to process in your foggy head. Everything sounds muffled. “Mmm-hmm,” you hum against his chest, nodding. His hands come around your front to massage your shoulders and neck, his fingers gentle yet firm. “I bet you do,” he murmurs. “I bet you wanna know how one feels.” 

Confused, you peer up at him, finding that he is already looking at him. His handsome face eclipses the ceiling fan light above you like the moon would the sun. “What do you mean?” you weakly ask. Suguru smiles, slow and seductive, his lip ring glinting at you. “I’ll show you.” 

Before you even realize it, the guitarist is leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. It is soft, slow, and tastes like tequila. You moan against his lips, tensing slightly from his unanticipated act, but quickly, you settle into his kiss, melting against the softness of his lips and the coolness of the lip ring pushing against your lips. Strands of his black hair fall from his ponytail, tickling your face.

Then you feel his tongue swirling against yours and with it, the cool metal ball of his tongue piercing. Is that what he meant by “feeling” a piercing? Because if so, you fucking love it. 

As soon as it happens, it ends and Geto pulls away, but not before giving your bottom lip a teasing suck, leaving you wanting more and almost gasping for air. “Choso, you’ve got snake bites, right?” he chuckles, giving the bassist a wink. “She might wanna get a taste of those too.” 

Suddenly, you are sitting up and facing Choso now, his ringed, tattooed fingers interlaced with yours. Your eyes bounce from his black-ringed eyes to his plump lips where those two black studs stare back at you. “You okay with this, love?” he asks. “I don’t wanna do somethin’ you’re not comfortable with–” 

You interrupt him by leaning in and giving each other what you both want, his snakebites pushing against your bottom lip. He moans in surprise at the kiss, but quickly melts into it, his hands moving to grasp your hips. Your fingers toy with his forearms, feeling up the firm muscles, while his pierced tongue toys with yours, swirling and dancing with each other. Heated breaths and soft moans escape your kiss, giving you both the impression that you’re enjoying this. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Sukuna growls impatiently. “I ain’t get my turn yet and neither one of you lowlifes know what the fuck you’re doin’.” Begrudgingly, Choso stops kissing you, his eyes slightly unfocused and dazed with lust.

Suddenly, you find yourself pulled into Sukuna’s lap, your ass on his thighs and his hands wrapped around your waist, one palm squeezing your ass rather possessively. “I’ve got enough piercings for you, princess,” he murmurs before his lips are on yours and his tongue is in your mouth. 

And he does. Other than the two rings hanging from his bottom lip, he has three silver balls pierced in a row in his tongue that feel like ridges against your tongue. His kiss is rough and sloppy, causing saliva to gather between your mouths. You moan into the kiss, your hands caressing his gages and helix piercings, trailing down to his stubbled jaw. The rough strands of his stubble brush against your cheeks, making you envision how they would feel rubbing up against the tender flesh of your thighs. 

“Ooooh, she likes that,” Geto teases, both he and Choso watch you makeout with their drummer. “Poor baby acts like she ain’t been touched in years.” Sukuna chuckles, the scent of tequila and chocolate vodka on his tongue. “Probably not if her manager’s got her under lock and key.” Both hands are grasping your ass now, moving you so you are straddling him. 

“Like the pretty, innocent little thing she is,” Geto sighs from behind you. The compliment makes you flush and want to duck under your bed covers. But Sukuna tsks, disagreeing. 

“Pretty? Yes. Innocent? Hell no. This one’s got slutty written all over her.” His tongue juts out to give your jaw a lick, trailing down to your neck. 

Geto tuts in disapproval even as you softly whine at Sukuna’s tongue working across your skin. “Oh, don’t be so vulgar, ‘Kuna. Sexy would be a better word, don’t you agree, cutie?” You can’t speak. Your mouth is full of cotton and your tongue is heavy. You smell orange blossom in the air and Choso’s hands are on your shoulders. “Is this still okay?” he whispers. “We’re not botherin’ you with this?” 

“Um…” It’s all you can even think to utter. Your mind is foggy and numb, everything sounding like a good idea with the alcohol pumping in your veins. Sukuna laughs, grinning at Choso. “Oh…she’s bothered, but not the way you think. She’s just too shy to ask for what she wants.” 

You feel shame at your body betraying you, hating that Sukuna can feel how wet you are. You can feel it yourself staining your shorts now, soaking through your panties. The drummer tilts your chin up to face his intense, lustful eyes that are laser hot and aimed at you. “What’s up, doll?” he coos. “You want me and my bandmates to play with you tonight and make you sing?” 

Again, you are silent, too drunk and too embarrassed to speak. Sukuna firmly squeezes your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him. “Use your fuckin’ words,” he softly growls. “You want us to fuck you?” 

The air is thick with tension and words left unsaid. The ball is in your court now. You should refuse. You should tell them to leave and be the good popstar that you were groomed to be. But the way your pussy is throbbing with need clouds your judgment. “Yes,” you admit. “I-I want that.” You can physically feel the lust and relief radiating off of the three bandmates. “Then you’ll get it,” Sukuna growls. “Your door locks from the inside, right?” 

And as soon as your door clicks and locks, you are trapped within the four walls of your dressing room with your very drunk, very horny idols. And you couldn’t ask for a better break time. Time seems to move fast and slow at the same time for you. Every kiss that you get from the idols is slow and wanton, but every piece of clothing that falls to the floor is quick and intense. 

You ogle and indulge in your idols’ shirtless upper torsos as their shirts come off before moving onto their shoes, socks, and pants. They strip for you, revealing rippling muscles inked in tattoos, motorboat-worthy pectorales, lickable abs, toned thighs and legs, and grabbable asses. 

“Like whatcha see, cutie?” Geto chuckles. You wordlessly nod, earning a laugh of adoration for your cuteness. 

Then your clothes come off, Sukuna peeling off your bottoms to reveal your pink thong underneath while Choso takes off your top, carefully peeling it off of your head. Sukuna admires your ass and thighs in your thong, his hands drinking in your soft skin smooth with vanilla-scented lotion. “Such a slut,” he groans. “You’ve been dreamin’ of this, haven’t ya?” 

Choso busies himself with your breasts, his hands molding and massaging each one, paying attention to your soft moans. “So pretty,” he murmurs before suckling on one of your hardened nipples. Your moans grow louder, especially when Sukuna begins leaving open-mouthed kisses on your mound. But your sounds are swept up by Geto’s lips when he leans over to kiss you, his pierced tongue swirling with yours. 

Suddenly, moments later, you are trapped between Geto and Sukuna, hands in your hair and a cock against your naked asscheeks only covered by the straps of your soaked thong. You are on your knees between Sukuna’s thick tree-trunk thighs, his hands possessively grasping your face as he kisses you while Geto ruts his hard, girthy, curved cock up against your ass, soft groans leaving his lips. 

“Fuck, cutie pie,” Geto sighs, loving the way his cock, tan like the rest of him, looks between your asscheeks. “You’ve got an ass fit for a stage, you know that, right?” 

SMACK! 

His big hand comes down onto your asscheek, making it sting. “Ah!” you gasp, tearing yourself away from Sukuna’s lips to gasp at the sudden pain. The drummer tsks, scowling at Geto as the guitarist runs a hand across your arched back. “You didn’t do it hard enough. Lemme show you how it’s done.” Then he mirrors Geto, raising his hand and smacking your ass. 

SMACK! 

He hits harder than Geto, causing the sound to ricochet across the dressing room walls. You let out a choked moan as the stinging sensation overcomes you, spreading across your asscheek like a wildfire. He does it again, making your ass jiggle and tears spring into your eyes. But despite the pain, your pussy throbs as if it is a pulsing, throbbing heart in your thong.

“Didn’t that feel good?” Sukuna chuckles, cocking his head at you. His thumbs wipe at your right cheek where a lone tear drop drips down your face. “Aww, what’s with the tears, doll? Did that hurt…or is that poor lil’ pussy desperate for somethin’?” 

Geto moans from behind you, still rutting and grinding his cock up against your panty-covered pussy, making the fabric so wet that it sticks to your lips. “Clearly. She’s rubbin’ up against me…fuckin’ soaking me.” You continue to rub yourself back against his cock, much to Choso’s enjoyment. He watches from the sidelines, his hand in his pants, teasing himself, his face flushed pink at the lewd sight. “C’mon, guys,” he groans. “I’m here too. Stop hogging her.” 

The cock is suddenly torn away from you, depriving you of what you need. “Oh, of course not,” Geto chuckles. “We’ve gotta let the popstar take care of her biggest fan.” He gives your ass another smack and a feeble grab before he lets Choso have you, telling Sukuna to cut it out and let their guitarist have a taste of you now. 

You move onto Choso, admiring his body as he stands before you over the couch, shrugging his pants and briefs down in one swipe. His cock reveals itself to you: pale, veiny, slightly pink at the head, and pierced. Your eyes widen at the silver frenum piercing there in front of your naked eyes, ready to be tasted. Standing up on your knees on the couch cushions, you stare up at a blushing Choso who stares down at you as if you’re a Goddess reincarnated.

“Look at what you do to me,” he murmurs, wrapping a hand around his dick. His balls, smooth and heavy, hang for you, ready to be suckled on. “No one makes me like this but you.”

And then, finally, he is jutting his hips out and sliding his cock in your wet mouth, groaning at the feeling of the wet, plushy insides of your cheeks wrapping around you. 

You begin to suck on him, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks for him, earning soft groans in response to your actions. His cock slides against your tongue, pushing farther to reach your throat, emitting a groan from his soft lips. “Fuck,” he swears, his breath hitched on the word. “Now would you look at that,” Geto whistles. “So eager. “Y’know, you suck almost as good as you sing and dance, cutie pie.” 

Zzzziiiip. Suddenly, he’s standing next to Choso with his thick cock in your face, jutting from a nest of neat, black curls and a mouth-watering happy trail. 

He smirks at you with his bandmate’s dick in your mouth, loving how slutty you look. “Think you can take me too, cutie? I’m a little bigger than that sparkly mic you use, but I think you can manage two dicks, can’t you?”

Choso’s cock slides out of your mouth and is quickly replaced with Geto’s, filling your throat up and slowly fucking it as if it is no more than a toy for his consumption. You stroke Choso’s cock with one free hand, allowing him to fuck your fist while Geto busies himself inside of your mouth, his hand clasped in your hair. 

And then another cock appears in your peripheral vision, right next to Choso. This one is girthier and curves downward, the pink head dripping in pre-cum and pierced at the tip. “Make that three,” Sukuna growls, pushing his cock up against your soft cheek. “Don’t leave me outta of this. You wanted us and now you’ve fuckin’ got us.”

Geto slides himself out of your mouth and Sukuna’s cock pushes itself between your lips, forcing itself into your mouth. “Just ‘cause you’re some big star don’t mean you get to be pampered,” he grunts, hissing at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him.  

Sukuna is much rougher with you, gripping your hair and pounding his cock into your mouth, causing his balls to swing and slap against your chin. “The biggest pop star in the game on her knees with three dicks in her face.” He pauses, laughing to himself. “What a headliner! Do you realize how lucky you are right now, dollface?” He pulls out of your mouth with a groan, a string of spit connecting from his cock head to your bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he demands. You do so and he leans down to spit between your lips. He doesn’t need to tell you what to do with it. As if programmed for it, you spit his saliva back onto his cock and slurp it back up into your mouth, earning aroused groans from the three members. 

For the next few minutes, your mouth is used as their personal fleshlight, only used to stimulate and please them. When one cock goes out, another goes in, filling your sloppy throat and fucking it, damn near causing you to gag. Their dicks reach the back of your throat, causing tears to well up in your eyes and drip down your face, ruining your makeup and leaving traces of mascara and glitter. 

As they fuck your mouth with abandon, you rub yourself against the couch cushions, grinding your cunt against them for relief. The more you suck, the hornier you get, your pussy gushing and creaming in your panties. Sukuna notices and smiles wolfishly. “You good, doll? Those hips are movin’ around an awful lot.”

He taps his cock against your tongue. Tap-tap-tap. “Needy slut. Ya need some help with that?” 

You don’t even have to say yes. They already know from the swirl of your hips. Your body can no longer control itself. Suddenly, you are being bent over onto all fours while Geto and Sukuna kneel behind you.

“You take care of her mouth, Choso,” Geto murmurs, his hand stroking your ass. “We’ll take care of your girl back here.” Sukuna cuts him a glare that could kill, but Geto ignores it. “She’s got two holes for a reason,” he chuckles. 

In the blink of an eye, you have those two holes filled with skillful, pierced tongues while Choso fucks your mouth off its hinges. You have never felt as used as you do now, on all fours with your back arched and two tongues fucking your holes. Sukuna sloppily eats your cunt, sucking on your pussy lips and clit, while Geto pries your asscheeks apart, spitting into your hole before slurping it back up. 

You squirm and writhe with every movement, doing your best to keep your mouth latched around Choso’s cock even as you moan and whine from every spark of electric, explosive pleasure that enters your core.

“Oooh, she’s a squirmer,” Geto laughs against your hole. “Does it feel that good, cutie?” Sukuna growls against your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body that make you tremble. “Hold her down. She’s not gonna do fuck-shit when I’m back here.” 

Geto obliges and firmly holds your thighs while Sukuna grabs hold of your ankles, pinning them to the cushions. Now you can’t move and you’re forced to take every tongue lashing they give you, their moans traveling into the very tips of your toes and fingers. Lewd, sloppy, wet sounds travel through the air from the tongue fucking you’re receiving and your wet lips wrapped around Choso’s dick. 

You can feel yourself reaching the end, your holes becoming too sensitive the wetter they become. You scream around Choso’s cock, causing vibrations to travel from his balls all the way up to his head that plunges deep into your throat. “God!” he gasps. “L-Love…fuck, you’re gonna make me cum! I-I’m gonna…gonna–” 

Knock, knock, knock! 

“Y/N!” Maki calls through the door. “The Meet N Greet starts in fifteen! I came to get you!” You swear you’ve never felt such fear. Choso instantly pulls out of your mouth while Geto and Sukuna cease in their lingus. “Shit!” the band cuss in unison. 

You press your finger to your lips, silencing them. You need to handle this if you want to finish what you started. “Y/N?” Maki calls again and knocks, causing you to jump. “Are you asleep?” 

You quickly clear your throat, preparing a lie. “U-Uh, I’m up!” you call, doing your damnedest to sound normal and like you’re not engaging in a foursome right now. “I’ll be out soon, Maki. I’m just fixing my makeup and hair right now. Come get me in five.” 

Maki makes a hum of uncertainty, but gives in regardless. “Okay, but you’d better be ready because Mr. Manager is already high strung tonight.” And then she’s walking away, her heels clicking down the hall. You release the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, thanking a higher power for their blessing. 

You then turn your attention back to your idols, raising an eyebrow. “Think you guys can cum in under fifteen minutes?” you ask. The three men smile, overjoyed that you still want to end this night with a nut. “You got any lube hidin’ in here?” Sukuna asks, giving your pussy a harsh smack that makes a high-pitched whine escape you. 

After finding your secret stash of sex toys (rose toy, vibrator, and cherry-flavored lube) in your Hello Kitty duffle bag, Sukuna squirts some lube onto his fingers and proceeds to rub it along your asshole while you’re on all fours on the carpeted floor, shivering and whimpering from the cold substance.

He gently probes your ass with one finger, paying close attention to the way you whine and arch your back like a cat in heat, his cock growing harder at the sights and sounds of you. For extra lubrication and stimulation, he pries your asscheeks apart and sticks his tongue in, slurping at your asshole and spitting in it, telling you how cute you are back there and how can’t wait to stretch you out so no other man can even compare. 

After you apply some lube to his cock, Geto gently pulls you down onto the floor with you in his lap, straddling his toned stomach and rubbing his cock against your sobbing wet pussy lips. “Just look at me, okay, cutie? I wanna see your face when you take all three of us.” His violet eyes stare deep into yours despite turning into slits as soon as his cock sinks deep inside of your pussy, causing you both to moan and for your nails to sink into his chest. 

Choso stands above you, stroking his cock to the image of you bouncing on his bandmate’s dick, cheeks flushed and eyes hopeful for his chance to fuck your throat again. Sukuna stays in his place behind you, rubbing his cock up and down your asscheeks. “Bet you’ve been dreamin’ of this,” he grunts. “All of us fucking you dumb. Haven’t you?” 

Rapid puffs and huffs of air leave your lips as Geto bounces you up and down, causing the sound of skin slapping against skin to drift into the air as your ass comes down onto his thick, muscular thighs. “Y-Yes,” you weakly moan. “Couldn’t…oh, fuck…couldn’t help it!”

Geto’s cock feels too good for words. Every time it brushes against the wet, gummy walls of your cunt, stretching you out, and your internal clit is stimulated, your mind grows blank and nothing else matters. 

“Be gentle with her,” Choso orders. “She has her Meet N Greet soon.” Even as he says this, he rubs his cock against your soft cheek, causing you to turn to gently suckle on the head. Geto grins at him, his handsome face etched in pleasure from your wonderful, tight, wet pussy wrapped around him. “Don’t worry, Cho; we’ll make sure she can still walk by the time we’re done with her.” 

But Sukuna is less optimistic or supportive. “No promises,” he cackles. “Not that she’s complainin’ about it. Now can you two shut up and fuck her already?” Choso obliges by sticking his cock farther into your mouth, once again filling it, making your lips stretch around his shaft.

“Fuck,” he sighs. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” He proceeds to fuck you in time with Geto, wrapping a hand around the back of your head to keep you still. 

“Keep that mouth busy, Choso,” Sukuna orders. “Brace yourself, doll. You’re gonna feel a little full.” He gives your ear a teasing lick before he lines himself up and slowly sinks his cock into your asshole. Inch by inch. Second by inch. ‘Full’ isn’t even the right word to use to describe how you feel when he slides his cock in the tight rim of your asshole. You have never felt like this before. 

It takes a moment to adjust and surprisingly, Sukuna allows you that time by pausing and slowing his movements, paying attention to your body language. But once you’re finally loosened up, your holes practically melt around the three cocks fucking them, back to back, al at once pounding you senseless. “Easy, baby,” Geto coos. “Just relax, we’ve gotchu. Just let us fuck you…let us make you feel real good.” 

The sounds of their moans, grunts, and swears of pleasure drift through the air like cigarette smoke, traveling up the ceiling and bouncing off of the walls. Your holes become sloppy from the spit, lube, and pre-cum entering them, making them easier to fuck. You are used as if you are no more than a fuck toy. A fleshlight. A sex doll. You can’t get enough of it, arching your back and shoving your jiggling breasts into Geto’s face which he happily sucks on. 

“Ah, fuck!” Choso groans, his eyes squeezed tight from the pleasure. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good!” 

“So fuckin’ good,” Geto moans. “Don’t, ah, let this go to your head, oh, fuck, but your pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”

Sukuna leans over to whisper in your ear, giving you deep, long strokes that have you crooning and whining around Choso’s cock. “How’s it feel gettin’ your holes pounded by some rock stars, huh, babydoll?” he gruffly asks. “Is it everything your slutty ass thought it’d be?” 

As if saying yes, your throat flexes and latches tight around Choso’s cock, nearly making him bust right there. “Fuck, whatever you two just did, do it again!” he whines. “Her throat just got tighter!” 

Geto places his big hands on your ass and proceeds to drill himself up into you, hitting that spot that makes you see stars over and over again. “C’mon, cutie, work for our cum,” he pants. “Make yourself cum all over this cock. You can do it.” Combined with his pounding, Sukuna’s deep dicking, and Choso’s moans as he fucks your mouth, you have no choice in the matter anymore. 

You don’t even realize you’re screaming until Choso’s cock slips out of your mouth.“Oh, my God!” you moan, loud enough for anyone outside of your dressing room to hear. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna fucking cum!” Your screams of pleasure continue to escape your mouth, growing more and more needy, desperate, and wild the closer you get to cumming. 

You don’t even hear the sounds of knocks at the door over the sound of sex. “Y/N?!” Maki yells outside your door. “What’s going on? Open the door!” 

You don’t hear her or the door knob jiggling. You only hear your idols’ salacious moans and Geto’s sweet voice in your ear. “Give it to us, baby,” he whispers. “Give us all that cum and take those loads. You’re such a good girl.” The three go faster and rougher, pounding you senseless, ruining your makeup and hair as Sukuna pulls on your locks and Choso fucks your mouth so roughly that the tears dripping from your eyes ruins your foundation. 

The knocks on the door become louder, booming against the wood. “Y/N!” your manager shouts. “Open the door! Y/N, who’s in there with you?!” 

And then finally, with a needy whine that nearly makes your throat hoarse, you finally spill your cum all over Geto’s cock, squeezing him for dear life as you try to drain every ounce of his nut out of him. Your orgasm triggers the band members’ and soon, they are finally cumming for you too. “Cumming!” Choso moans. “I’m…gonna…fucking…” 

Suddenly, all three of the sexy, tatted, pierced up rockstars shoot every ounce of their creamy loads in every single one of the holes they occupy. Geto grips your hips and screws his handsome face up, sweat trickling down his neck as he cums deep inside of your pussy, causing your thighs to become sticky and wet with the substance. 

With a guttural moan and every single cuss word known to man, Sukuna grips your ass hard enough to leave bruises as he shoots his load into your ass, filling the tight hole up with his spunk before pulling out to rub the rest onto your asscheeks. Choso chooses your face to cum on, pulling out and quickly fucking his fist before ropes of white cum spurt out of his pierced cockhead, coating your lips, cheeks, and tits in the sticky, wet substance. 

You are completely and totally covered with their cum by the time your dressing room door is forced open. Your head swivels around to face your agent, your manager, and the two big, burly security guards that they got to break in your door. “Oh, my God!” Maki shouts, dropping her iPad in shock. She and the others’ faces are etched in shock and horror as they are met with the sight of you and The Curses completely naked with the dressing room smelling of sex. 

A beat of awkward silence extends in the tense, cum-and-lube-scented room before the band members each let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Mr. Manager, sir,” Geto chuckles, gently stroking your ass. “We were just leaving. We just had to help out your little star.” 

Gently, he and Sukuna pull out of your holes with matching groans, causing their cum to ooze out of your pussy and ass down your thighs. As they quickly get dressed, Choso gently lies you down on the couch and passes you some tissues for your face. “Just relax, love,” he coos. “You did so well. Here, let’s get you covered.” He passes you your robe and helps you dress in it, even tying it for you. 

After he gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gathers his clothes, Geto leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Good luck tonight, cutie,” he murmurs. “We had so much fun with you tonight. Give us a call when you’re in Cali again~” 

Then it’s Sukuna’s turn. “Sorry for the mess,” he jokes to your team, shirtless with his jeans sagging low. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, nipping at your bottom lip, his crimson eyes filled with mirth. “Oh, and thanks for the souvenir, dollface. See ya around.” 

And then, just like that, your idols are gone, swiftly rushing past your manager, Maki, and security still standing there in shock. When you finally find your brain and check your robe pocket, there, in your palm, is a note scribbled in Choso’s handwriting are three phone numbers: his, Geto’s, and Sukuna’s. 

“Y-Y/N,” your manager stammers. “What in the hell happened here?” 

You quickly hide the note back in your pocket and smile, giddy and your heart skipping like a schoolgirl’s even as your holes are oozing with cum and your pretty makeup is fucked up.

“Just a Meet N Greet,” you jokingly reply. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower for my fans.” Then you quickly rise onto your wobbly legs and walk to the bathroom, grinning as you do. 

THE END.

[xenteaart]

you are not difficult

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but it can fit any au, really) word count: no idea but it's short genre/warnings: er, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suffering w depression, implied history of SH. also implied shitty ex. so PLS keep that in mind before you read. also, it's all good in the end. author's note: it's a self comfort thing y'all but i hope you like it too.

it was yet another night where everything felt too much and you kinda hated yourself for it. bad day, maybe some hormonal imbalance due to a certain time in your cycle, history of mental illness — it's hard to put a finger on the exact cause. you're sick of trying, anyways.

chris was, of course, right there for you, and as you were falling apart in his arms, your entire soul was aching so bad that it made you want to crawl out of your own skin. it's usually like that, everywhere in your body like some sort of extreme inflammation, except physically you're perfectly fine.

"'m sorry…" you blurt out somewhere between your sobs and cries, still unable to hold eye contact with him.

"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," chan shakes his head and keeps rubbing circles into your back, just between the shoulder blades where the ache feels the most excruciating.

"kiss me?" you squeak. almost pathetic, honestly, but it's always been your way of checking, whether he still wants you. whether he still loves you and desires you, even at your lowest, even with your mascara all smudged over your cheeks, eyes puffy and red, lips slightly irritated and swollen. even when there's a gaping black hole where the heart is supposed to be.

chris doesn't even question it, really. he simply leans in and gives you a long sweet kiss full of both a partner's tenderness and a lover's lust, so, so willing to do whatever it takes to calm the thunderstorm inside your mind and ease your struggle.

the kiss doesn't really satisfy you, the feeling is still there.

"sorry," you whisper again as you breathe out into chan's lips but the intimate contact doesn't last long. chris frowns and makes some distance between you two to look into your eyes.

"why? baby, why do you keep apologizing?" he sounds gentle but still slightly frustrated.

"i dunno? cos 'm difficult? for bein' difficult?"

there's a silence as he blinks a few times, processing and putting two and two together.

"just because it was difficult for them to love you and take care of you, doesn’t make you difficult. you are not difficult. like, at all," he puts on his serious tone, the one he uses for you when you can't see the obvious and he has to remind you.

you don't really know what to say to that, so you keep playing with the tissue paper in your hands, ripping it apart piece by piece just to keep yourself busy and focused on something other than the burning ache in your chest.

"dealing with mental health isn't easy, that one is true, baby, but it's so easy to love you. you are easy to love. even now, looking so small and in pain but it's still you, and my duty as your boyfriend is to take care of you when you can't. and, hell, you're one of the most capable people i know, so please just let me hold your hand through it once in a while, yeah?" chan speaks slowly and quietly, as if to make every single word sink in, tenderly forcing it into your stupid lovely brain that refuses to cooperate sometimes.

chris feels safe. he feels like lighting up a cookie scented candle after a long day at work. he's the feeling of the ocean timidly licking at your feet and burying them deeper into warm wet sand. chris is the first sip of coffee in the morning and the cold side of the pillow at night. he's everything worth living and trying for.

"thank you," is the only thing you manage to say, but in the way you lean back into his embrace he's able to read a lot more.

"do you want a nice mug o' hot chocolate and some fairy bread, baby?"

this question makes you hiccup and sob once again. you nod and nuzzle closer into the crook of his neck.

[jellyfishoreo1206]

This is very self-indulgent after I just watched Pezzy playing Poppy Playtime Chapter 4. MY BOY DOEY DESERVED BETTER 😭😭😭

Platonic fluff! Sorry if this seems so short y'all

WARNING ⚠️: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE NEW POPPY PLAYTIME CHAPTER

----

Every day that passed within the walls of this hell hole facility was filled with fear–everybody was on edge, with the smallest of sounds from the outer area of the Safe Haven sending terror throughout the toys, even you. You've seen what was out there, seen what awaits behind those gates–waiting...waiting for the chance that everybody's guard is down.

With a pained sigh, you push yourself up from the bedroll despite the ache that shoots throughout your chest–no use in sleeping when the growing hunger and dark memories are plaguing your thoughts. But what to do?

The Medic said you should rest, but no matter how many times you adjusted yourself or stayed still, sleep was nowhere to be found...and when you did sleep, the nightmares plagued every inch of your unconscious mind–fallen friends you could've saved, the Prototype finally getting into the Safe Haven, succumbing to the starvation...

Or worse, becoming so hungry you eat your friends.

...

No. That won't happen. Never will happen.

With a quick look outside the tent flaps, one thing you noticed was the dimmed lights–"nighttime" within the Safe Haven. Normally the other toys would be too anxious to go to sleep, but it seems like it was one of those rare days where everyone turned in for the night.

Though, one light seemed to have stayed on...the generator room's light, a stark contrast compared to the dim setting of the Safe Haven.

The only people who hanged out in the generator room were two people–Poppy, and Doey. With another quick scan of the Safe Haven, you spot Poppy and Kissy in their tent on the other side of the room, huddled close to one another. So that left one person left.

It's very usual for Doey to be in the generator room often anyway–anxiously checking if the generator had succumbed to anything bad. But never at this hour does he check.

...At least you hoped he didn't.

The amount of pressure Doey had been under for the last few days has left you more worried for him than ever. You tried to help shoulder the weight of all the responsibilities that weighed him down but he was stubborn–believing it being a burden that no one else should carry but him, the person who everyone looks up to.

Though the more responsibilities that pile up on his plate, the more he likely he'll drown in the stress and worrying of everyone's safety.

That's Doey for you, always worrying and caring for others before himself.

Well, might as well find out what he's up to.

Climbing out your tent, taking a quick moment to breath when the pain in your chest flared, you quietly made your way over to the lit room. At the doorway, you could hear the distinct mumbling of Doey and the sound of the generator door hinge softly closing shut. It seems he was checking on the generator, but why at this time?

"Doey?" He jumps at the sound of your voice, turning around in surprise to see who else was up at this time. He looks absolutely exhausted –you didn't even know the doughman could even have eyebags. Just how long has it been since he's last slept?

"Y/n! What are you doing up? You should be resting!" He frets in concern, fully turning away from the generator and towards you to check you over for any injuries. Always worrying for others, typical Doey. "Especially since that recent scouting mission of yours." He adds, doughy hands on his hips as he gave you a look of disappointment and anxiousness.

The mention of what you gained while scouting gave a dull pulse along the skin of your chest, but you ignored it in favor of what was happening now. You quirked an eyebrow at him, "You're worried about me? Doey, you of all people should be asleep right now." Hell, his eyes are barely open! They look like they are several seconds away from closing shut.

"I'm fine."

"We both know that's full of—"

"Language!"

"Sorry, sorry–it's just," You struggle to find the certain words to describe what you are trying to say, the both of you had this argument conversation several times before! And everytime he brushes it off as if his well-being doesn't matter, "-I just hate seeing you like this. I-I know you wanna make sure the others are okay and I understand that! But you're also ignoring your own needs!"

You gesture to his face, "Hell! When was the last time you got proper rest?" He opens his mouth to respond, but flatters, mulling over the question in his mind.

"I'm...not sure." He hesitantly responds, looking back towards the generator with slight confusion. How much time did he spend checking the generator?

"Then let's get you to bed, big guy." Placing a hand on his arm, you attempted to gently coax him out the room and into the direction of his unused tent, "Can't think if you're too tired to come up with a single coherent thought." You jest lightly.

Doey's face is unreadable–was he going to interject again? But he merely gave a heavy sigh, exhaustion clearly seen in his expression and body. "Maybe you're right.." Yes! Finally you got through to him and that thick doughy head of his!

"Let's get you to bed, big guy."

He merely mumbles, eyes slipping shut before rapidly blinking open, following your led as his foot steps fill the haven with the soft sound of thuds.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"..do you mind staying with me?"

"Don't mind at all, Doey."

"Thank you."

"Always happy to help, Doey."

[sirxlla]

Can I get a story about where reader gets stuck and injured in a tornado and Tyler is helpless until it passes? Love your writing by the way!

Tornado Warnings

------------------------------------------------

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Prompt: above ^^^^^

Notes: female reader, italics are actions and thoughts.

-With that said it's all under the cut-

Half the time you rode with Tyler, half the time you rode with Dexter and Lily, Tyler wanted you safe, and during some storms, the safest place you could be was as far away from him as possible especially considering the things he would do for Youtube.

Nighttime chases are the most dangerous. Lily was looking at her drone; Dexter was watching the road, and everyone in every car was distracted by their other tasks that no one was watching the radar. With limited visibility, it was best that someone watch the radar. Tyler noticed it at the last second trying to warn you guys over the radio.

You were outside stretching your legs for a minute as you guys stopped for a minute to reorient yourselves, so Lily could grab her drone. A large piece of metal came your way as the winds picked up and went straight into your thigh which caused you to let out a cry of pain.

"Guys, we need to-" Dexter was trying to relay the info to you guys from Tyler that you needed to get the fuck out of there as he saw your leg.

"Lily, get the van started. Tyler, I gotta go. Y/N's hurt pretty bad and we gotta get out of here." Dexter hoisted you up onto your good leg and wrapped his arm around your waist, which caused you to groan in pain, but right now, you three need to get the fuck out of the path of this storm.

The walkie-talkie lets out a scream, Tyler's screams of panic and worry as he asks questions and worries. Dexter ignores Tyler for now and pulls you into the van and tells Lily to go.

Dexter grabs a tee shirt from the tee shirt bin. He rips it and wraps it around the metal in your thigh causing you to scream. The RV is blown into the air, causing you and Dexter to bounce around the vehicle. You can hear Tyler's screams of worry cut in and out on the walkie-talkie right before you smash your head on the cabinet, and everything goes black.

Boone tries to calm Tyler as he has a breakdown; he's pacing and panicking in the middle of a Valero gas station. Thankfully no other chasers are here. Of course, Tyler is worried about his friends, but right now, he's more worried about you because you're hurt. He can't see y'all's chaser location anymore, but it was last showing where the tornado passed.

Kate had taken his keys, the last thing anyone needed right now was to be anywhere near that thing. The storm passed, and she finally gave him his keys back; Tyler, Boone, and Dani rapidly climbed back in, and Tyler sped as quickly as he could toward your last location.

As the four of them got closer, they all pulled out their flashlights and started to look for the three of you. Tyler saw someone with their hazards on and an ambulance in the distance, which he cautiously sped toward and hoped in his heart that it was you.

Tyler saw Dexter and Lily, and thankfully, they seemed mostly fine, but he looked for you and noticed the gash on your forehead and the piece of metal in your leg as they guided you into the ambulance.

"Wait! Wait! Please!" He handed Dani his keys and asked the paramedics if he could come with them; one of them was going to say no but was cut off by the other.

"Of course! You're the Tornado Wrangler, you help as many people as we do. It's the least we can do." The other paramedic says before guiding Tyler in.

You wake to a throbbing pain in your head and your leg; the lights from the hospital room brightly shine into your eyes, causing you to squint. Tyler wakes from a dead sleep as he feels your hand move in his, his hat falling off his face where he had it covering his eyes. Tyler's warm hand feels nice compared to the bitterly cold hospital room.

"Is- Are- Lily and Dex are they-" You worry as you start to finally come to after being knocked out in the RV.

"They're fine, Sweetheart. It's alright. You're okay and they're okay. Well...besides your leg and your head. We're lucky it wasn't worse." He squeezes your hand with one of his, the other he uses to brush hair out of your face.

You relax as you hear the news that they're okay, and your head throbs as you lay back in your bed.

"I'm sorry..." You whisper as your brain tries to blame this all on yourself.

"It wasn't your fault; we all got sidetracked... With the season being near the end I just decided we're gonna call it for this year."

"Tyler, it's barely started! You shouldn't have to-"

"You can't walk, Y/N. It's gonna be time for you to heal from that piece of metal that went through your thigh. I wanna be there to help you. If you want everyone else to keep going, that's fine, but I'm staying with you unless there's something local, Okay?" Tyler makes sure in his tone that you understand there's no room for arguing.

"Okay." You nod, looking at him with appreciation. He loves storm chasing; it's one of his favorite things to do, and that he was choosing you over it just makes your heart swell due to how much you matter to him.

Tyler often wanted to carry you from room to room instead of having you use the crutches which is super nice of him but its hard to get some alone time. As nice as it is to have him home, when he gets too much you just have the guys come get him for storms so you can have some alone time.

-> Masterlist

-> Send me prompts if you'd like

[hello-gloomy]

Anything #Stanley X military!reader would be appreciated 🙏🏻

This is such a good idea I'm surprised someone else hasn't written it or something.

*Future note: sorry this took so long*

-------------------

Stanley Snyder x Military!Reader

Headcanons

Warnings: Mild angst and jokes abt the us government training, also maybe inaccurate descriptions of active service.

-------------------

"Man, I would kill for some free education."

Que the military horn blasting.

Most jokes aside, though, you were friends with the dynamic duo since middle school, and since you were nearing the end of the three of your government-required education, you all had to decide what to do now

Initially, you were going to do college with Xeno but after seeing the costs for things you decided on going Stanley with the military

And boy, are you starting to regret it? Seeing Stanley lose all his pretty hair made a tiny part of you die inside. But the hours, the training, the yelling—it was starting to drive you crazy. Stanley was stone-faced through all of it, and it felt like your hair was thinning just being there.

"How's basic so far?" -Xeno

"Is that Xe?"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Your legs still hurt from all the laps your commanding officer made you do that day.

After your basic training was done and you and Stanley's first few tours were done, it got easier.

When Stanley moved up in rank, he started fucking with you. He would abuse his rank over you just for shits and giggles. But that was just his way of showing he cared about.

One day, when you were both out on the field, something went wrong, causing you to get injured; he got you out of there and told you would be fine.

When you woke up, you were greeted With a stressed Stanley and a worried Xeno. You gave them a hello, and Xeno fussed about the scare you gave them both. Xeno only stopped when he noticed the look on the commander's face; he excused himself to give you both a moment.

While holding your hand, Stanley told you how he felt and loved you. You were crying at his heartfelt confession and returned his feelings.

"We're gonna have to fill out so much paperwork."

"You could retire early."

You argue a bit with him for a little bit before taking the early retirement option just to convince your new lover.

You stay with Xeno while Stanley continues his tours, spending time with him over the phone and when he's not deployed.

When you wake up to the stone world, you get to put to use your previous military expertise without the worry of ranking due to the current lack of government( Xeno accidentally overheard y'all having some private activities over communication lines he never forgets to announce himself afterward)

When the second Petrify beam hits everyone, you end up being leveraged on Xeno as well and probably would be the other option to be on the moon mission team

It would probably cause an argument between you and Stanley, you would still do the astronaut training with them holding on to some false hope that you could convince him to stay.

Regarding the final day before launch, you sat away from everyone, drinking quietly. Stan came and joined you, taking the drink out of your hands so you wouldn't drown in the thoughts behind the cup.

He runs his hands down your shoulder, telling you how much he loves you and about your good moments together. You break down in his arms, and the both of you spend the night with each other.

You send him off the next day with no regrets and hope in your heart that he'll return home to you safely, no matter how long it takes.

"And by the time you get home, you'll have a bigger family waiting for you." You say to yourself, holding your abdomen.

[eclipseberrycake]

Shattered (Glisten/ T.Glisten x Reader)

AN: I love Glisten, glisten my love. As for how I do it as a student, I try to write as much as I can when I can. For example, I was in a zoom meeting for class and writing this because I find giving myself and my hands something to do while listening makes me more productive so I can knock out some requests and have them ready for when I am busy!

So I was unsure if this was if Reader was in a relationship with Glisten or not, so I tried to explore both options

Edit: y'all thought I forgot about ya today huh? Nope. Weekends just might be a Lil less post happy because it's my rest days so I play dandys world day:)

☁ So, if you aren't in a relationship with Glisten, it's a little different than if you were.

☁ You're probably pretty good friends with him regardless, so seeing him on a run without him by your side makes your stomach churn.

☁ It's a psychological mind-warp, seeing your best friend right there, so broken and desperate. Even just seeing his arms tied together breaks your heart at what could've possibly prompted it.

☁ The missing shards of his face make you sick and you slowly approach him as the others disperse. His twisted immediately notices you. eyes shining as his shoulders relax. "It's you! Stay nearby...Please."

☁ The plea makes you swallow tightly, frowning just a bit as you do as asked anyway.

☁ The thing about the clones is they're still part of the original toon. They don't feel, per se, but they know how the original toons felt and act upon that. It's like knowing what burnt food smells like and acting when you smell it.

☁ When seeing you, his twisted immediately latches onto you. He knows his original counterpart adores you inside and out, and he needs that. He needs that feeling of safety and reliance you provide.

☁ If you're on a run and not babysitting him, he literally goes out of his way to find you. He waits and waits until you notice him and only then will he begin to calm down.

☁ When you sneak off because the last machine is almost done, he immediately grows frantic, yanking at the ribbon around his arms. It's not an immediate shatter, but by the time that last machine dings, he's already panicked. He's tearing his binds to shreds before taking off, yearning to grab you once more before you can leave.

☁ The feeling you give him is addictive and he needs more of it.

☁ Alas, he crashes against the barrier of the elevator, watching you cower as you try not to look at him, which just won't do. He bangs and bangs until the elevator closes, leaving him alone once more to pick up his shattered remains.

☁ Now, if you are?

☁ First, you're hard pressed to go anywhere without Glisten, let alone on a run, but let's say by some miracle. Maybe you have a needed ability and he's injured or something. Either way-

☁ Obviously having gotten used to having Glisten nearby, it's off to go without him.

☁I know me personally? I'd be nervous af.

☁ So you're probably not as ready to run in as you would be if you weren't dating. You have to get back to him safe after all or he'd have a fit.

☁ So when you walk in and hear the familiar echo, you're stomach drops as you threaten to turn right back into the elevator. It closes so you don't get the chance before you're forced to continue on, walking with slowed and careful steps. The less noise you make the better, as it gives...it less of a chance to catch you.

☁ If it were any other twisted, it would be fine. But it was far from fine.

☁ "Thank Goodness you're here."

☁ You swallow tightly as your eyes widen, turning to see the very twisted you were hoping to avoid. Ichor tears are already welling in it's eyes as it stumbles towards you, tripping over it's own feet.

☁ It makes you stumble back as well, hands outreached as if that will stop it from descending upon you. It doesn't. It's arms, wrapped in pink ribbon, strain against the fabric as the ichor holding it's middle together bubbles.

☁ It makes you nauseous just looking at it.

☁ On the opposite end, the Twisted had never been so happy. You were here! You! Glorious, effervescent you. Oh what a glorious day! Just knowing you were nearby makes whatever organs he has pulsate happily, as if he could get butterflies in his stomach these days.

☁ He just wants to embrace you once more. Feel your warmth against him as he never lets you leave. No, he wouldn't allow it. He knows how happy you make his counterpart, he just knows you could make him the same. He just wants to feel again and he knows you're the source of it.

☁ But you look so, so scared of him. He understands the new form can be scary, his jewel, but he assures you you'll used to it. Or he tries too, but it comes out in a garbled mess as the first ichor tear drips down.

☁ There's a ding of a machine, followed by another and the noise makes his patience slice itself in half as he turns to glare at the direction the sound came from. Who were they to try and take you away? No one. They were nobody. There's a third ding which he snarls at before turning back. But you're nowhere to be found.

☁ He garbles some form of your name, whipping around again as he urges himself to move faster, looking for you. He won't lose you, he won't. The other version of him doesn't deserve you. Can't you see that?!i

☁ The forth ding rings and finally his patience snaps. He takes off, darting from room to room looking for you. There's a sound of a capsule skidding across the floor, as if someone stepped on it that makes him whip his head around.

☁ As if the ichor answered his prayers, you're struggling to stand, wincing as you limp in the direction you were originally headed. He immediately takes off towards you, even if you screech at the sight.

☁ It wasn't you're finest moment when your foot caught the capsule, sending you to the ground, but it's even worse when you realize it has seen you and is coming right at you.

☁ You scream before you can even stop it, quickly getting to your feet as you take off towards the elevator. It's much faster than you though, and catches up in no time at all. You're pretty sure it's fingers brush against your back when you hear Goob's own ability engage, his colorful fingers wrapped around your waist as you're yanked the rest of the way into the elevator.

☁ You collapse into the fluffy craft in relief at the save, even as the elevator slams and it's haunting screech rings in your ears.

☁ It's scary seeing the thing upclose, moreso when it chooses you to lock on, but with Glisten there, it seemed less so.

☁ You silently vow to never go on another run without him again.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 32] || [Chapter 34]

Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Soap x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || Ghost x Price || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8k~ cw: angst. reveal of secrets. (call backs to past chapters) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: sorry, y'all :)

Chapter 33: Do You Think?

"Hold still, Johnny!" You chide as you straddle one of his bulky thighs, while he pulls a face and squirms a bit.

"Nae, bonnie, I don't like that!" He complains, turning his face and pouting in displeasure.

"I don't care, it's good for your skin!" You retort as you lather some more of the face mask onto his face, trying not to get it accidentally over his lips or eyes.

"But the smell-" John continues protesting.

"It's clay!" You reply.

"It's shite, is what it is!" He retorts like a child, causing you to groan and grab him around the jaw, your fingers holding onto his stubble-covered jaw so you can continue.

"Look at Kyle, he's not complaining!" You reply as you point at the other man, who sat perfectly still on the floor, seemingly relaxed, as he leaned his head back on the seats of the couch.

Kyle has a calm smile on his lips and was occasionally taking sips of a fruit cocktail you had bought the ingredients to make through a straw, wearing headphones and vibing to his own music.

"Yeah, well, Garrick's mask is different!" Johnny pouts, but finally sits still long enough to allow you to finish applying the cream to his face.

"Well, yeah, obviously? You have different needs!" You retort as you finish and look at him. "There. Now you don't move and just drink your little cocktail." You point at it.

"Aye, I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Nope!" You chuckle as you get up, scurrying off to wash your hands in the bathroom sink.

Once you return and take your seat between the two men, Kyle has pulled off his headphones and is chuckling at Johnny's face covered in a grey-ish green toned clay mask, even slathered over the prickly stubble around his jaw.

"Don't bully him." You tell your boyfriend as you reach for your own cocktail glass sipping from it as your own face mask takes effect.

"I'm not. Just think it's funny how he's putting up such a fuss over it." Kyle teases and shakes his head in amusement.

Things at home have been calm and chill... Even after you and Kyle confessed to one another you're in love. Johnny doesn't know about it and, in a way, it feels a bit... weird to not tell him.

But it would also feel weird to tell him, and make a big deal out of it. To possibly risk rushing him into saying it too... just so he doesn't feel left out. You'd hate to do that to him.

You can't help but wonder how Simon himself is going to react when he comes back and hears about Kyle confessing to you.

Simon...

You wonder how he's doing.

You hope he's safe.

"Wha's wrong, lovie?" Kyle's voice draws you out of your thoughts as he leans against you and rests the soft underside of his jaw on your shoulder, avoiding accidentally rubbing off any of his peach-colored face mask on your skin.

"Just... thinking." You murmur, realizing you'd likely been zoning out and staring at nothing, mindlessly biting your straw as it sits between your liips.

"About wha'?"

"Simon... John... Do you think they're okay...?" You trail off, feeling Johnny shift around beside you so he can listen into the conversation as well.

"You shouldn't worry. They're fine, they're the toughest." Johnny replies as he softly rubs your shoulder with one of his calloused hands.

"I know... It just-" You trail off and bite your straw again, resuming the mindless gnawing at it.

"They're the best of the best, lovie, they'll be back in no time, safe and sound." Kyle says reassuringly.

But you've learned to catch when Kyle is lying. And this is one of those times. He doesn't know that they'll be safe, that they'll come back. Nobody knows.

But then, you find yourself sighing and shaking your head, to push away the feelings of worry.

"You know what, you're right. Either way, it's not like they'd let each other get hurt, right?" You muse aloud.

"Of course not, bonnie, they're responsible and make a good team." Johnny quips besides you, Kyle agreeing on your other side and nodding along.

"Oh, I was more so saying that because they're obviously in love with one another." You add before taking a new sip of your drink.

Both set of eyes are suddenly glued to you, eyebrows raised and jaws going slack.

"What did ye say?" Johnny asks you in shock.

Turning to look at Johnny, your brows knit together and your eyes narrow in confusion.

"That... John and Simon love each other?" You reply as you look at them.

"What do you mean?''Kyle is the one to speak this time, while Johnny goes onto being the one stunned into silence.

"What do you mean 'What do I mean'?" You ask them and raise your brows. "I thought it was obvious?"

"No it's not?!" Kyle exclaims.

"You lot work together, what do you mean you've never noticed?!" You ask them in earnest confusion.

"It's Simon, for God's sake, it's not like the man is open!" Johnny retorts.

Turning to face Johnny, you narrow your eyes at him and then tilt your head like a confused dog.

"So you figured out Kyle and Simon were coming to see me, but not that Simon and John seeing each other?" You say in a pointed, accusatory tone.

"Well, to be fair, the Captain's very private." Kyle replies, trying to defend his (and Johnny's) lack of perception.

"No, he's bloody not! He's an open book, you just don't know how to read him!" You retort.

"Either way, what's it matter? Aren't we all together? I mean, you're with Simon. Garrick's with Simon. I'm with Simon..." Johnny trails off.

Shaking your head, you look between them in confusion. "Have you truly never noticed the way he looks at Simon?" You ask them.

Kyle and Johnny look at each other as if you've just told them a riddle they are trying to solve by getting their respective brain powers to work together.

"How does he look at Simon?" Johnny asks after a moment's pause, giving you a confused puppy look.

Pausing for a moment, you seem to mull over the thought. You've seen the way Johnny looks at Simon too. Would it be too much to tell Johnny that Simon's in love with you?

"He looks at Simon the same way Simon looks at me." You reply in a gentler tone, catching the way Johnny's brows rise in surprise, and then he glances at Kyle. So do you.

Kyle's brows are also raised in surprise and he purses his lips, seemingly unsure of what to say. So, you continue.

"John looks at Simon like he personally hung all the stars in the night sky. He always looks to him when everyone's laugh. He kisses Simon's forehead and cheeks a lot, always lays a hand on his shoulder..." You trail off.

"And Simon never shakes him off. Never pulls a face. Never freezes or tries to shy away..." You continue. "If I had to guess, he's loved Simon for a long time... And I think Simon loves him back."

Your eyes going back and forth between Kyle's and Johnny's faces, noting how their respective expressions seem to change ever so slightly to one you can't read.

-

Simon shimmies into the flat after texting you to let you know he arrived, and getting a reply from Johnny.

As soon as he enters, the door having been open by Kyle, he finds Johnny standing in the living room with crossed arms.

"What?" Simon asks softly, quite aware that you're asleep in your room, too tired to notice Kyle and Johnny currently holding an intervention in the living room.

"When were you going to tell us?" Johnny asks directly.

"Tell you wha?" Simon asks in earnest as he carefully sheds his gear by the front door. "That you and the Captain were involved." Johnny answers, glancing at Kyle who is looking at the scene with wide eyes and doesn't join onto the interrogation.

"Well we're obviously involved?" Simon retorts deadpan, not even glancing at them.

"We mean you and him. Alone. In the past." Johnny retorts.

Simon slowly turns and simply stares at Johnny, silently, before glancing at Kyle, and then glancing at Johnny again. "How do you know?"

"Bonnie noticed it." The Scot replies. "Answer the question."

Simon sighs and turns, setting his hands on the back of the couch. "There's nothing to answer. You already know."

"It's not fair." Johnny says bluntly. "The Captain tore into us for dating them, and for dating each other, only for him to be a hypocrite and do the same?" He complains.

Simon sighs and crosses his arms. "I'm not saying I disagree," He begins. "but it's not like we planned on it." He replies softly.

"How long has this been going on though?"

Simon sighs and shakes his head. "A few years. Since he got divorced."

"Captain Price's been married?!" Kyle finally breaks his silence.

"Wait, you knew he was married back when we got together to create his Tinder profile and didn't tell us anything?" Johnny confronts Simon who sighs again.

"Not my business to share." The Mancunian replies with a shrug. "He didn't want it to be known, I'm not-"

"Just like he didn't want it known that he shags anything that moves?" The Scot announces with a scowl and gestures broadly to all three of them.

"Soap!" Kyle complains and groans softly. "I told you that in confidence!"

"Oh, please, Ghost already knows about it!" Johnny replies, failing to see how Simon's figurative hackles raise at the mention of his moniker, his alter ego, one he wants (and tries) to shed at the door of the flat. "Don't'cha, L.T.?"

Simon simply nods. Then, with another sigh, he looks past them, his eyes locking onto your silhouette at the door, behind Kyle's shoulder. "Sweet'art..." He calls out, finally drawing the lads' attention to you.

With three pairs of eyes on you and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you murmur a soft little "Why are you all awake? Come to bed..." You beckon and reach a hand forward.

"Sorry, mo leannan," Johnny tells you apologetically. "we're discussing the mission." He lies easily. "We're just going."

"Let's get you bacj in bed, lovie." Kyle assures you as he moves toward you and guides you back to the bedroom, leaving behind Johnny and Simon, but glancing at them one last time.

Now alone in the living room, Simon and Johnny stare at one another. "Were you thinking of telling me?" The Scot asks directly.

Simon sighs and turns his head for a moment and rubs the back of his neck. "I didn't know how to."

"So... the last couple of years, whenever you and I would..." Johnny gestures vaguely.

Simon sighs and looks down with a huff. "Yeh..."

The Scot takes a deep breath. "You know, the Captain being a hypocrite I could forgive. But you..." He trails off, in a disappointed tone, and shakes his head.

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

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@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping

synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more

author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.

You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.

You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.

For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.

But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.

Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.

Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.

Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.

He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.

When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.

He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.

Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.

The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.

He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.

"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.

You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.

You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.

Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.

Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?

Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.

You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.

But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.

Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.

He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

@bubbalande Credits to You For This Idea!

(Concept Here - Credits to my Starboy Anon for this amazing Palace of Alcazarzaray!)

Almighty Dragon: Interviewing The 4th Descender, "The Traveler"

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

The Traveler

The moment the Traveler meets the Almighty Creator, they were shocked to realize two things: One, the Almighty Creator was very similar to Apep, and Two, they were a helicopter parent.

Even looking at a dragon the wrong way will cause them fury. And the problem with the Traveler is that they know they were very much guilty in facing many dragons in their adventures. Luckily for them, they were not going to be eaten or killed.

"Hm. I suppose I will let you live, seeing as you helped cure little Dvalin, and you absolved the pains of Azhdaha." "Ah...Thank you, but are you sure? I did hurt them pretty badly..." "You aim was to ease their suffering. Though I don't like how you beat them so hard, you had good intentions...well, enough of them."

While you don't exactly like the Traveler, you don't exactly hate them either. They did have good intentions with all of your children, and they even cared for them—your grandchildren (cough, melusines!) included.

So, safe to say, the Traveler is on "you're okay, but I'm watching you" terms. Dvalin, Apep, and Neuvillette's vouching, along with loads of melusines, do sway your opinion on them a bit.

We don't talk about Paimon, but I can assure you she's fine :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: THIS TOOK FAR LONGER THAN I WANTED TO, BUT IT'S FINALLY OUT! Ugh, this was sitting my drafts far longer than I intended...but I hope y'all enjoyed it!

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