#my jaw drops to the floor every time like .... they just SAY shit without even thinking about it for a moment

[bloodinwine]

I've seen some posts here and there about comments on people's fic, how they can come across as too demanding or really just not kind. It's been a little over a year, so I still feel like a baby to fandom - but I think I've experienced enough to have an opinion about this now (or I should say, understand my own feelings about this). I apologize for my rambles... First, I want to acknowledge that comment anxiety is so real. There are people so well-intentioned, who may want to express how much they love your story but just don't have the words or are so fearful that it will be taken the wrong way. Sometimes I do worry that having a criteria for what constitutes as the right way to leave a comment can make this anxiety worse for some people. Now, I've gotten comments before that could be read as "demanding" but I just try and see it as someone being excited and wanting to read more! At the same time, man....if only one could see the amount of TIME that was poured into that piece you just devoured. Because real talk...I tend to feel pretty hollow for a few days after a chapter drop. Like...in the most dramatic way possible. HOLLOW. EMPTY. NUMB. The comments that do come in DO bring a smile to my face and they DO mean so much to me and they DO motivate me to continue. But I am just utterly depleted and it takes me awhile to get my shit back together. I think part of it has to do with like...the amount of hours, days, I poured into this and how it can literally just be consumed in like 20 minutes. Most people will consume your art and some people will engage with it - and there is a difference. But that's kind of how it goes, once you release it you don't have any control over how someone chooses to respond to it.

The same could be said for visual art. Every art piece you see, it takes you one second to glance at and hit the like button. The amount of time and patience and care that went into it though? I can't even wrap my head around it. Since writing fic, it really got me thinking....there are SO. MANY. BOOKS. that I've read, many that have influenced me, had my jaw dropping to the floor, that I absolutely LOVED, changed my life and guess what? I've not once reached out to the authors in any form to express my appreciation. I don't even actually know what point I'm trying to make. (Again, rambling.) But I guess if you choose to read and you find the engagement exhausting so you don't want to leave a comment - I think that's okay. It would feel really awesome to the fic writer - who isn't making any money or getting anything else out of the time they'd put in - but if it's too overwhelming, then don't push yourself. Life is hard and sometimes you just need a place to escape without the pressure or sense of obligation to say something. I can understand this, too.

And for those who have taken the time, you have become a part of my own journey as I go on to write this ridiculous story. And I don't say that lightly. Whatever happens, or however fandom culture gets shaped or changes - I hope we all just continue to treat each other well and be kind, be kind and be kind always.

[famewolf]

cishet men really do just be saying things to me because they think i am also cis

i am often appalled at the things they decide are ok to say/think out loud to other men because they think it's a 'safe space' to say it

[writersdrug]

Bartender Simon when a customer yells at reader for a mistake?

I love the way you guys think LOVE keep em comin!!

It starts when he's restocking his bar, carrying crates with fruit, bitters, coasters, and straws. He comes down from the pantry upstairs to a decently relaxed lunch crowd, when he hears the second half of the customer's tantrum.

"You expect me to eat this?! It's bloody raw!"

"I'm so sorry, I can take it back aga-"

"You already did that - went to the kitchen and stuck it under the warmer for a few seconds and thought I wouldn't notice, huh?"

"No sir, I gave it to the che-"

"I don't want to hear fucking excuses, just go fix my damn burger. I'm paying for this shit, aren't I? And you're working for my tip. So fucking work, cunt."

Humiliation isn't enough to describe what you feel - there isn't a strong enough word for it. Claiming you're a liar, saying you grovel for tips, yelling at you in front of your other tables, calling you a cunt - it makes your eyes sting with oncoming tears, staring at him and using every muscle in your jaw to keep from spitting insults back at him. You want to throw the food in his face, but instead, you grab his plate and storm off to the kitchen before he can see you cry.

The man scoffs, looking at his watch. "Fuckin' great..."

Simon's still standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his crates and staring daggers at the man. He knows what it's like, being berated by customers. He says "that's customer service for ya" and moves on. But for this wanker to berate you - he sees red. He sees his next target.

He swiftly crosses the restaurant floor, boots thudding against the old wood as he drops his crate behind the bar. Soap's already yelling about the asshole when he pushes his way into the kitchen.

"Order it fuckin' rare and ye get fuckin' rare, bloody clipe- talkin' mince, bawface bastard-" he slams the burger back onto the grill with a tense arm, continuing to grumble as it sizzles. "Cookin' ye a nice strip o' shoe leather-"

You're sitting on an overturned crate, sobbing into your hands, pen and notepad on the ground beside you. Price is on one knee, one arm around your shoulder and the other on your leg - you'd never officially met the owner of the pub, but now was as good a time as any, you suppose.

"Wot happened?" Is all that Ghost could say without going off on a rampage. He's saving that for later.

"He fucking embarrassed me, that's what happened!!" You snap, looking up at Simon. Your eyes are red and puffy after only crying for a minute or two, cheeks wet from your tears. You hug your arms around your middle and choke on a sob. "Told me his fucking burger wasn't cooked, so I sent it back- then he tries to say I never even gave it to Soap?! Calls m-me a cunt in front of my tables?! Make me fucking work for his money - I don't want his goddamn money!!"

Price shushes you, worrying your anger might be leaking through the kitchen door - he doesn't want the same customer to hear you bad-mouthing him, although it's rightfully deserved. He rubs your back gently as you drop your head into your hands again, shoulders shaking as you cry.

Simon's seething - he's already moving before his brain can catch up, still stuck on the picture of your teary face. He marches behind the line and reaches across Soap, picking the burger right off the grill.

Soap makes a shocked sound. "Ye gone mad, LT?!"

"Table six?" Ghost asks, holding the sizzling burger patty in his hand, grease dripping onto his forearm.

You stare between his face and the patty - your crying stopped, your face now replaced with a stupefied expression. "Uh- yeah."

And like that, he's off; he shoves himself back out onto the floor and makes his way towards the customer who yelled at you. The burger burns his hand, but he doesn't even notice the pain. He drops it onto the table in front of the man, who yelps in disgust. "What the fuck-"

"Better?" Ghost says, hands clenching into fists at his sides as he looked down at the man, now stuttering and blubbering in shock. Specks of grease are freckling his white dress shirt.

"Are you- is this a fucking joke?"

"It's your fuckin' burger."

"I can't believe this-"

"Then get the fuck out my pub." Ghost growls; he grabs the man by his arm, ripping his blazer off the back of his chair, and drags him to the front door. The other customers look with wide eyes as he busts the door open with his shoulder and throws the man onto the sidewalk. He wheezes as he hits the ground, and Ghost throws his blazer at him next.

"If I ever see your face in 'ere after this, 'm throwin' you out again and keepin' your bullocks as a fuckin' souvenir."

The man stares at him, flabbergasted, as Ghost walks back inside. People are focused on their meals now, heads down and pretending they didn't see Simon body a man to the ground - the guy deserved it, after all.

Simon huffs, picking up the burger from the now-empty table. His hand stings a bit, but he has years of callouses built up to keep any real burns from settling in. He gently kicks the chair back into place and starts heading back to the kitchen, when he sees you.

You're staring at him with wide, wet eyes, standing in the entryway to the kitchen and mouth slightly ajar in awe. You've fully stopped crying, but there are still tears on your face from before. Eyeliner and mascara are smudged a bit, but it only makes Simon's fondness for you blossom.

He gently nudges your shoulder with his elbow as he pushes past you. "Take a fifteen. I'll watch your tables."

You stare after him as he throws the burger into the trash, grabbing a fresh towel and wrapping his hand. Wide back facing you as he looks at Soap, who stares at him with a frustrated sigh.

You're horny now. Horny for Simon - and you're definitely relaying this entire shebang to your friends tonight.

[metranart]

hi! it’s me

i wanted to ask you how would the jjk guys react to you getting their lips tatted on you..?(specifically gojo)

like you got them with lipstick and they kiss a paper then the tattoo artist makes it a stencil in red and you put it right under your boob..?

(don’t do this if your uncomfy with it! also take your time your probably busy)

xoxo,em! take care

Hi sweets, sorry for the long wait, I've been awfully busy but here it is, I made it specially smutty to compensate lol hope you like it :) btw... I love your requests ;)

How would the JJK guys react to you getting their lips tattooed on you 💋

Ft. Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Choso, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna.

SATORU GOJO

Five missed calls and four unseen texts. Gojo sighs, scratching the back of his neck, he hated it when you left him on read. What could you be doing that was so damn important to ignore him.

The sound he had been waiting for since the day started makes his ears ring with excitement and without wasting a second, he opens the text message with your name on it.

Gojo Satoru's eyes widen, and his black glasses slide down the bridge of his nose almost comically thanks to his jaw dropping a little, all at the sight of the picture attached to a cute and adorable message that says:

"Do you like it?"

Gojo growls under his breath, subtly pulling with a shaky finger at the collar of his shirt, suddenly it's too hot there, his cheeks turn an accusatory red and his breathing has grown labored. Even his palms are sweating, for fuck's sake! What's wrong with him?! It's just the shape of his lips on the delicious curve of your under-boob. Shit! He's about to bust a cap inside his pants.

"Satoru-" Nanami's stoic voice breaks his trance and looking around almost as if had forgotten he was in the middle of a briefing, gets up and without any further explanation than: "Emergency!" Leaves the school, leaving behind and unattended, all his duties and mental sanity.

"Did you see the message on his phone, Geto?" a puff of smoke lazily comes out of Shoko’s curious mouth and Geto shrugs. "I saw that it was from (Y/N)." The black-haired snickers and everyone let out a unison, heavy sigh.

Gojo arrives in less time than is humanly possible at your apartment and without warning, not even a ‘hey, babe’, or a: ‘I just teleported myself into your room, hope you don’t mind’. You are dragged by your tall and strong boyfriend, special grade sorcerer and stripped of your top.

"S-Satoru, baby?"

You try to figure out what has him so bristled and with the delicacy of a saint but the curiosity of a child, he yanks your bra up, your delicious breast spills from underneath and his tattooed lips greet him.

"Shit!" is the first word you hear him say and it's almost a painful pant. "Those are my lips, aren't they? This is why you asked me to kiss that paper using the lipstick-...." he sounds accusatory but also incredibly excited.

You nod and let out a sigh that you didn't know were holding. "Phew! When you didn’t answer my text, I thought you didn't like it-"

"Not like it..." he sounds almost offended, and your bra is discarded when he pushes you on your back in the bed. "Not like it?! I love it! I want to eat you whole, (Y/N), I'm only holding back because I need to ask something first."

Being pinned down by his weight and his gentle hands on either side of your jaw, Gojo steals the little space and whispers his question against your ear. "Are you still sensitive from the tattoo, or can I give you a new one with the original source?" 

He kisses your earlobe playfully, and you can’t help but giggle dumbly, as you can't help your voice from shaking with excitement. "I’m not made of sugar-"

You can't even finish the sentence when his lips begin the endless and shameless work of awakening every nerve ending in your skin, the desperation palpable in the white-haired sorcerer as every piece of clothing is torn from your body and his and discarded on the floor as impure.

Purple mockeries of your tattoo in the form of hickeys adorn every patch of your sensitive neck like a new necklace, small bites from the small curve of your shoulder to the sinful curve of your waist, nipples swollen and perked from the greedy skating of his tongue on them. Gojo is not being rough, but he is not being gentle either, he is brutal in his advance but methodical and careful that your moans do not change tone.

"I'm going to tattoo myself on you from the inside out," his warn is muffled against your breast as his mouth devours the plump peak of flesh. Paying special attention to pressing his lips against your tattoo over and over and over again, as if certifying its authenticity and quality. The silhouette was exact, the perfect shape of his greedy lips. It was an almost erotic sight for him.

"Huh?"

"Sure,” he chuckled low before keep going, “white ink specially made for you. You'll see, I’m an awesome artist," having you panting, sweating and squirming isn’t enough for him. Oh no! he needs more, Satoru Gojo claims for something more permanent than a mere tattoo. "...My tattoos last nine months inside, and eighteen years outside, they talk and call you mommy, I’m that talented, sweets" tangled between his muscular limbs, your new resting place, he does whatever the fuck he wants with you. 

You feel the massive shape of his warm cock against your thigh, he’s been pumping himself no end, not letting you touch him not letting you aid him for fear of wasting his first load, that tasty, thick load he's been preparing especially for you. The mere graze of your fingers on him will be his end, he knows it, so he won’t ask nor accept your help, even when he longs to wrap your fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut. Or better yet, wrap your perfect mouth around his cock and suck him off– NO! he now’s not the time for him to be negligent. 

Once loaded, abandons his quest for relief and rests his warm palm on your belly massaging it as if molding it to fit something of his, while the other keeps playing with your cunt, enjoying the way you suck his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. 

“I never thought someone would be able to awaken my paternal instinct-... did my clan hire you, sweets?” he scoffed, playfully. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy moans and whimpers but the way your muscles are tensing and spasming around his digits. The desperate rocking of your hips against his palm, as a firm beg for relief.

“It's just a tattoo....”

“Na ah!” His hand continues playing with your tummy, your navel, the curve of your waist almost obsessively while his tongue makes out with the curve of your neck. “This was your way of telling me that you want me forever..." long finger prod at your gummy walls, searching for that hidden blessed spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

"Let me show you how gifted I am, my sweet girl..." 

He finds it in matter of seconds, and you lose all kind of restriction and complaint and Gojo can’t help but smirk against your neck as you tighten and quiver around his digits. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his thumb pressed over your clit, flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles a deep purple hickey on the skin. Long, thick fingers guiding you through madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, oversensitive body to handle.

"Y-Yes, Satoru, shown me, fill me, mark me-… do whatever the fuck you want-"

You convulse in the spare seconds of glorious pleasure before cumming with a strangled shriek, and Gojo’s groan muffles against your skin when can finally sink in one roll of his hips, feeding you that fat cock he’s been pumping to the edge just for this exact moment, buries deep inside you, kissing your cervix in that one thrust of raw meat. With an animalistic grunt, spills his soul inside your womb, pouring every last drop of cum he's been cooking in those heavy balls until he empties himself, flooding your inside with his gifted seed. A rush of juices gushes from your trembling cunt onto your connected lower halves, and you feel and hear him pant like a dog next to your ear, as both come down from the high. 

"Am I your favorite tattoo artist or what?"

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

NANAMI KENTO

He's stoic and serious, almost unmoving in his unflappable staring as you lift your shirt so he can see your new tattoo. His silent disposition is starting to make you more than a little nervous, since you know that Nanami Kento isn't exactly a crazy animal, but rather, a calm and quiet being who hides a wild side that he only shares with those closest to him. Making you wonder if you fall into that category or not, as his silence as he inspects the tattoo of his lips under your boob is virtually killing you with anxiety.

"Those are your lips, my love." You explain again, even though you've already done it three times, and you receive the same ‘mphm’ sound he made the first three times. 

"Remember? -… remember when I ask you to kiss a paper?"

"I do."

"Well, I gave that to the tattoo artist, and he made it a stencil in red and then I ask him to put it right under my boob...?"

"I see."

Those calm eyes, analyze from every possible angle the tattoo of his lips on your skin, it had never been so difficult for you to read your boyfriend. "Do you like it, do you hate it? Tell me anything, Kento."

Silence and more close observation.

You close your eyes, squeezing your eyelids shut as you take that deep breath of air, you need so much, and you are about to demand an answer when you feel it...

Your eyelids suddenly open looking down and there you find him: Your stoic, boyfriend, the sensible and calm man who is always in control, kneeling in front of you while pressing his lips against your tattoo, the round softness of your boob loses its shape momentarily as the blond pushes his face more firmly against the plump skin. The most unexpected kiss that you have ever shared and for some reason, the most erotic, too.

"K-Ken?"

"Did it hurt?" he asks suddenly from his kneeling position and the threat of you stuttering makes you just shake your head. Nanami steals another kiss against the softness of your breast like he can’t have enough of the sensation. "Are you sure it doesn't hurt?"

You nod, mesmerized by the sudden attention this blond showers you with, his hands caressing your bare back from top to bottom, slow and gentle with the tips of his fingers, it's delicious and it melts away the anxiety you may have been feeling, now, malleable in his hands. You let his face sink further into the curve of the tattoo of his lips and you moan his name as if you want to taste it rolling down your tongue.

"Nanami."

"... Do you still have the lipstick?"

"Huh?" That request brings you out of your reverie a little, and you look at him with some confusion, to which he smiles, that smile that makes you weak in the knees. "Y-Yes, it's in my purse."

"Lend it to me, darling."

With his palm splayed wide open he waits for you to hand over the lipstick. Digging for the cosmetic, he waits patiently until it's resting in his open hand and before you can air your doubts, he stands up, lifting you into his arms to take you with him, those muscular limbs feel like the safest place in the world and you nuzzle your nose into his neck to breathe in his scent combined with his cologne, and it’s intoxicating, so much so that you almost miss his next question.

“I’d like to suggest a few other places where my lips would look just as amazing on your body.”

“Kento!” you startle, it’s adorable to him and closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours, tasting, nibbing and licking as he carries you to his room. “You take suggestions don’t you, sweetie?” 

He chuckles at the flush growing wild on your cheeks, and you feel the softness of the mattress on your back as he sets you down with the care of a saint, before beginning to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. Your body shivers in anticipation and his lips curve up into the cheekiest grin you’ve ever seen him make, his large hand reaching out one elegant finger towards you and beckoning you with it. 

You’re on your knees in front of him in seconds, his knuckles running down the length of your jaw in a silky caress that has you purring like a kitten, leaning into his touch. That smile only stretches further, as your eyes flutter shut and you feel the greedy grip on his lips, hunting for another kiss. 

Unfortunately, it ends too soon, and your mouth holds that pouty shape that demands another sweet kiss, but instead of his fleshy lips, you feel the creamy slick of lipstick painting your lips.

“Tell me, (Y/N),” Nanami is delighted with how docile you are to him as he finishes painting your lips red, and it’s the sound of his pants zipper coming down that catapults your eyes open, “what would you think of me tattooing your lips right here?”

His finger points along his defined obliques and your mouth waters, this man was sincerely praised by the gods themselves, every muscle in his abdomen defined, those deep lines going down to his crotch giving that ‘v’ shape to his torso, that sinful path of golden hair that disappears under his trousers. It's too much for you.

"I think I need to see what it looks like first and then I can give you an informed answer, Kento."

His broad chest rises and falls violently, sweat runs down his forehead and his cheeks are an explosion of color. This is your masterpiece. Nanami Kento’s fat cock fits with effort in your mouth, but you certainly do your best to get it to touch the back of your throat with every thrust, you can feel him getting close, his thighs tremble under your hands, his forearm covers his eyes, his cheeks are about to explode… he’s too close, and your tongue curling around the tip doesn’t help him resist, you suck him off for over ten minutes and you’re proud of that pleasurable ache in your jaw when he comes shamelessly hard at the back of your throat and your name rips through his esophagus as it echoes through the walls of his apartment. Eventually, his hand stops keeping your head pressed against his pelvis, and with a wet pop, his still semi-erect cock hangs in front of your face, lubed in your saliva.

“You’re right, I think it would look nice.”

You tell him, admiring the lipstick residue that adorns the shape of his cock and balls, a crimson kiss near the base, another at the shiny, cum-dripping tip, another resting on the roundness of his coarse balls, and you love the whole image. You want a fucking mural in your living room with this image.

“Hell no,” the blonde says breathlessly, barely trying to recover from your masterful blowjob, “…no needle is going to touch me down there,” he threatens playfully but serious enough, “if you like the way it looks, you’re going to have to paint it yourself every time.”

A giggle escapes your mouth, red lipstick smeared on your lips as you grin evilly at him. 

“You have yourself a deal, baby."

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

CHOSO KAMO

Choso can't control where the blood goes since, he met you, his cursed technique is out of control. That damn tattoo of his lips on the curve of your under-boob is driving him crazy, he thinks of it and the blood goes down to his crotch. He thinks of you and the blood makes a tent in his pants.

It's a mess that he's had to control with shameful continuous masturbation sessions. Jerking himself off, over and over, with your name as a mantra and the image of his lips tattooed on your breast as his banner.

"Shit, just go away." 

He murmurs with a tight voice, while his fist milks his fat cock in fast and violent motions, his flesh swollen painfully for more than an hour, he doesn't want you to come home from work and find him touching himself, he doesn't want you to find out that he lost control of his cursed technique. He had to lower himself to watching porn, something he had never done before, but it was of no use. So, he put on cream and although it had relieved him on other occasions, this time wasn't working its charm. Fuck! Pleaaaase-... maybe he needs more cream to slide better? No, no matter how much cream he spreads on it never compares even a little to your tight, little pussy. 

And it is the desperation, that he is running out of time that drives him to this miserable act. He takes, that one photo he treasures so much, out of the frame and places it between his fingers, his excitement growing as he looks at it, it is working. He beats his piece of swollen flesh more eagerly, grunting and growling like a dying animal, Fuck! he's close...his eyes close in concentration and his hand increases speed and pressure as his mouth hangs open… almost there, he can feel his balls tensing and tightening, so close, just a few more pumps, a couple more strokes, a little more pressure, almost there… his guts tighten and his brain enraptures in the moment forgetting to mind his surroundings, to enjoy the divine sensation that grows and grows and grows and FUCK!-

Choso Kamo cums, hard and heavy, rope after rope of creamy cum shoots out of the head of his cock like a mockery of how blood usually does when he uses his cursed technique, the pressurized jet of creamy juice spills out and doesn't finish pouring for about a minute straight. Once his balls are an empty, trembling sack, Choso can breathe again, his sweaty and naked torso rises and falls with violence that calms down the more air he sucks, the sweat begins to dry on his skin and his cheeks feel less hot. This was what he needed, the photo helped him a lot, although he can feel how he bathed it in cum, he can fix it quickly, clean every single trail of his sin before you get home-

"C-Choso?"

His hand, which was riding out the last few strokes of pleasure on his ultra-sensitive cock freezes and his eyes snap open to find you staring at the mess he is, just what he wanted to avoid, damn it! -

"B-Baby, I-" he starts to stutter and stops abruptly when his eyes register what he did.

Your cheeks are painted a deep red but that's to be expected, what's not to be expected are the cum globes that slide down your pretty face, down your cheeks, varnishing your eyelashes and part of your eye, messing up your perfect hairdo, staining your work uniform. Choso enraptured himself so much in his own fantasy that he didn't notice when you walked through the door, or when you approached him.

Now, he has no idea how to begin to apologize, the words are stuck in his dry throat. Are you angry? Are you furious with him? Your beautiful eyes only watch him, better said, ogle him: pants pooling at his ankles, shirt bunched up to his neck, his cock limp but slowly filling with blood again between his trembling fingers, the cockhead shiny and pink and still, spewing cum to further mortify him. 

Choso is paralyzed, unable to move and his mouth barely managing to open to spit out any explanation, snaps shut again from the shame that crushes him.

But that shame turns to bewilderment when his eyes catch the subtle movement of your hand gathering a glob of his cum that slides down your cheek, with all the delicacy and grace that define you, and you play with it for a second between your fingers before opening your mouth and dipping the digits between your tongue. Choso's jaw drops to the floor and his breathing hastens again, his cursed technique going out of control once more, summoning blood to that still throbbing and extra-sensitive part.

Your pretty lips curve into a feline grin that makes him feel like your prey, and he swallows hard, clenching his fists to keep his body from shaking, when his eyes meet yours.

“Is this what you do when I go to work, sweetheart?” you ask, licking your lips to collect the cum resting there, “you jerk off while looking at my graduation picture?” a flirtatious giggle escapes you when you specify, “...same picture where your little brother is, too, how dirty.”

Choso is a bundle of nerves, blood just keeps pooling where it shouldn’t, he’s so hard and swollen that your eyes drop there almost automatically.

“I’ll take care of cleaning everything-” 

You interrupt his apology, raising a finger to get his attention so he can see you, as you lift your pencil skirt up to your thighs and slowly settle yourself comfortably on top of his lap, nestling his cock between your warm stockinged thighs. Choso shivers and carefully as if asking for permission, let his large hands slide down those wide, inviting thighs. 

“…How about you start by cleaning me up first?” Your warm hand tangles around his firm erection and he growls low, “Then you get me dirty again,” you slide those fingers up and down on his stiffness in shameless incitement and smile when notice his eyes roll back his skull, “and we repeat it all until dawn.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes, whatever my girl wants-…” the words rush from his mouth, “…just one request,” an eyebrow rises on your face, and he grins, warm and almost, shyly. “May I see the tattoo of my lips again?”

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS

SUGURU GETO

“Do you… Do you really like it, Suguru?” You ask, lolling your head forward and humming when his fingers slowly travel up and unclasp your bra, the last barrier you have left to cover yourself.  Every little breathy sound you make comes ragged and soiled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.

“Way too much, baby,” his low voice carefully admits from above you.  “I don’t know why you hid it from me in the first place. Don’t—don’t do that. You don’t have to. EVER.”

Your breathing keeps picking up when he keeps trailing his hands around either side of your now naked torso, running the tips of his fingers down your ribs and slowly tracing the curve of your breast, letting the pads of his fingers memorize the shape of his tattooed lips on your skin.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” Suguru whisper, quite suddenly emboldened by his growing need. The gentle caresses pause at the very top of perked nipple, holding there for a second while he seems to think about it. “Please, don’t make me repeat myself.”

Soon his touch lifts away and he appreciates the sound your hands make, as those little limbs make haste in follow his request, the muffled shuffling of fabric being stripped of your skin somewhere close by and the soft noise it makes dropping to the floor, close to erotic to the first-grade sorcerer. And then suddenly—

“Oh, God—” you breathe, nearly melting into the seat of his school office when large, warm palms meet your skin and slowly start to ride the curve of your neck and collarbone downwards. Dammit, why does it feel so good?  Suguru Geto smirks, like the knowing devil that he is. “Do my hands feel amazing, baby? It’s just two palms, ten fingers-”

 “…. But they’re so strong and raspy and big….” Your mouth babbles unrestrainedly, “touch me more, Geto….”

One palm butterfly out across your breast and you moan, lewdly loud. “If Director Yaga hears, I’m going to be so fired, pretty.”

“S-Sorry…” 

Dipping and squeezing the soft, pillowy flesh of your boobs, Suguru Geto stares down at you, drinking every emotion and expression he can rip out of you. “Ho—fuck, like that.” Your approval is everything to him.

“I know,” Suguru murmurs, his voice ocean-deep and scraping across the shell of your eager ear when he leans closer from his privileged height to press one bended knee to the chair, right in between your thighs. He lets one hand drift down into the space he created and rub circles on the moist mound of flesh there, as his other hand comes up to cradle your chin, urging you to stretch your neck up and long for him. “You look so pretty like this— all naked and horny for me.”

“Someone might come in, lock the door…” you breathe in protest, remembering your shy nature, and he ignores you, slowly dragging his palm down your trembling slit.

“You don't get a tattoo as sensual as that, if you don't want everyone to drool after you,” he says, and you’re helpless to stop the embarrassing way your knees suddenly jerk farther apart when his hand moves to press a fat finger on your clit. “… Showing all the monkeys how sexy you are, and then showing them that you belong ONLY to me.”  

And then he squeeeezes your bundle of nerves, and your hips nearly come off the seat with it.

Nothing else exists besides your boyfriend’s pair of hands now gripping the bottom of the chair, to position your body closer to him. You hear yourself take exactly one shaky breath before his arms suddenly slithered under your knees, hauling you forward. Your lower back dips in at the angle, your pelvis now jutted out and propped up by the edge of the seat.  

Suguru Geto licks his lips as if he as if a banquet were being presented to him and the following is him lowering himself to the floor in front of you, running those deliciously strong palms up the length of your thighs. Your new position encourages you to spread your legs wider for him.

“I think my lips, tattooed here,” his long, cascading loose hair caresses the inner skin of your thighs as he leans down to the lower curve of your tummy and places a soft, warm kiss, “would look great, as well.”

“Y-You think?” 

Your quivering lips exhale at the feeling of his hot, plump lips meeting your feverish skin, and hearing the sound of his breath hitch at the visual you give him, goosebumps spread all you’re your body.  

“I know it,” He promises, opening you up wider, subtly moving himself closer into the gap and letting you cradle his torso with your knees.

“Mine to feast on, mine to pamper,” the special grade sorcerer rumbles quietly, his grip on your thighs tightening as he licks his lips, hungrier. “So, mine to… own.”

“….-Own?”

And then you’re abruptly cut off by your own gasp when a soft, dexterous tongue slowly envelopes your clit. His lips slick between your folds as his rogue tongue flicks out like hot velvet to flutter greedily over your clit, humming low in his throat as he eats you with unreserved gluttony.

“Fuck, this is heaven. This is fucking heaven,” he rumbles against your sloppy pussy, “my sweet girl laying with her legs open and letting me eat her after I’m done giving classes—….”  

“Su-Sugu… oh, fuck—” Your words are barely discernible through the pleasure, deformed by the sound of your breaths and gasps. “Do—Do you think someone can h-hear us?”

Suguru smirk is swallow by your folds and his snicker muffled by his need to keep eating you to even let you know that a six eyes user had been spying from the other side of the door since you started. 

“Noones at the school at these hours but us teachers, baby. Don’t worry your pretty head.” 

His fingers curl against your thighs, his tongue swirling gentle circles around your swollen clit as he sinks two of his thick fingers deep inside your cunt. Both of your hands thrust out without thinking and snatch at his loose raven mane, fingers burying themselves into thick waves of hair. “Oh—f-fuck—”

He makes a rough little growl into your warmth every time you tug on his hair, and you tug every time, he pulls his fingers out and then pushes them back in again, until it becomes a vicious circle where both do that steadily, over and over until you’re sweating, hips arching up and doing everything you can to entice him to hurry the fuck up.

Suguru snickers again at your impatience, instead, he’s unbelievably slow, continuing to lick his hot tongue through your folds as his eager finger fuck you, so utterly patient and steadfast, learning the right notes to drive you crazy.

“You are close, aren’t you, dove?” he flicks that wicked tongue applying more pressure to your abused clit, “something’s beginning to burn in your core, I can see the cursed energy spreading threateningly along the muscles in your pelvis.” Suguru narrated what he felt with his own cursed energy, without a doubt the out-looker seeing the same as he was, just in HD. “It rises through your abdomen like unstoppable wave, seeps down into your knees and wraps around them. Your breathing is getting shallower, the base of your lungs suddenly feels too cramped by the oncoming explosion. I know, baby, just let it happen, don’t hold back. You can squirt on my face. I’m eager for you to baptize me on your fountain of love—”  

“Stop it, Suguru… I’m-I’m not…. I will not….” 

Your resistance is nothing but amusing to him, this is your nemesis. You hate how sensitive you are, how easy your boyfriends read you and undoes you with his mere tongue, you hate that squirting jet that makes your toes curl and your eyes blank, but once it’s over, makes you very aware of the mess you made.

Suguru finally speeds up, and that rock steady display of ferocity makes you want to cry.

“—I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, everything inside pulling up fierce and tight, your chest heaving and your grip in his hair turning to iron. “—Oh, fuck, I’m g-gonna cum—I-I—”

A quiet mhmmm sound rumbles low in gentle encouragement, and then he takes a second to softly suck on your clit to push you over the edge. His fingers curl, press up hard against something absolutely fucking devastating inside you, Suguru Geto knows you so well is almost unfair, and bite your lip is all you can do to stifle a sob when your body suddenly erupts in searing burning ecstasy.

Your back arches and you cum in his mouth, wailing his name while he groans raggedly and drags you through it. It’s hot and wet, in equal parts chaos and bliss. You’re still trying to calm your breathing when a gentle softness presses against your lips, mindful of rewarding you with as much love as he can profess in one single, chaste kiss. It’s over way too soon though, and by the time you open your eyes again, you blearily blink them at him. He’s already standing, impeccable and not one strand of raven hair out of place. A swift smirk curving his lips while his stare never strays from your destroyed persona, heaving and sweating and naked in a public place. Fuck! He adores you so much.

“Are you hungry?” He eventually asks looking straight ahead instead of you, the low frequency of his natural voice not masked anymore by his arousal.

You blink up at him twice, still slouched over the seat butt-naked, trying to figure out who is he talking to, all your clothes spread around his desk and the floor when you hear some familiar voice answer from the other side of the door.

“Starving.”

CLICK HERE TO READ ALL MY JJK SMUT FANFICTION COMMISSIONS

RYOMEN SUKUNA

The euphoric sway of his hips meeting yours should be an affront to the natural order, your boyfriend, Ryomen Sukuna, had been maintaining the same rhythm, precision and firmness in each thrust for more than forty minutes. 

You are cockdrunk, you don’t remember your own name, only his. Which comes out of your trembling lips in pieces or unfinished syllables. Your mind is a mess, a rabid mess of hormones and pleasure, but your insides are the most affected, making you endure mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm that shake your frame violently, leaving all your muscles exhausted and sweaty. Breathing ragged, face pressed against the sheets of his bed and your wrists swallowed by his large hands against the firm mattress, while he introduced you again and again to your new deity, his thick cock, which seemed just as hard and ready to continue making a mess of you. 

“…I’m sure you’ll think twice about pulling a stunt like that again now, won’t you, princess?”

Although his voice was breathless, it was still firm and solid, not like your pathetic moans.

“I…I thought you’d-…that you’d like it, Kuna-...” That sentence trailed from your half-open lips, between a sigh and a moan as he changed the angle to hit that spot of nerves inside you that made you see stars.

“I know you meant well but it was still unacceptable,” your boyfriend scolds you again, and a delicious shiver runs down your spine as his hands abandons your wrists in order to better hook on either side of your hip. The mere sensation of his thick fingers digging into your soft skin makes you cum again. "Fuck- you squeeze me so good, baby..." he praises, plunging his massive cock deeper into your quivering hole just to draw out more sensations, "-.... shit! If I cum again, are you going to keep it warm for me inside your tummy, princess?"

"Kuna, yes, always..." you moan into the sheets miserably, "don't stay mad at me, please, my love-"

"I loved the tattoo of my lips on your under-boob, don't doubt that" he affirms, firm thrusts clapping his midsection with yours, like giving his stamina a cheer. "But I HATED the fact that some guy had to do it. Don't you know any female tattoo artists, Isn't this the era of women's empowerment?"

You crawl forward and he catches you before you can shift positions. "Kuna, baby... let me ride you, so I can control the speed... I can't cum again-"

"I. Don't. care." He replies, skewering you again on his veiny, thick piece of meat that still feels like stone. "I'll put it in you as fast as I want and as long as I want until you learn your lesson-"

"Which is?"

"You, cocky little thing." He chuckles and emphasizes each word with a thrust. "Nobody. Touches. You. But. ME! Just ME."

“Mine.” Thrust, “Mine~” thrust, thrust, thrust, “MINE.” Thrustthrustthrustthrustthrustthrust—

Sukuna doesn´t hold himself back, even after he comes for the sixth time, he keeps going.

Slipping in and out of you, still rock hard, twisting you uncaringly in all kinds of positions and surfaces that his room provides, just fucking his cum inside you with every unpunished thrust.

You are tired, you are actually exhausted, you are emotional-... and you are drained.

“—I'm yours, just yours... hands off, w-world.... just y-yours~”

His hips stop, finally halting all movement when you give him what he's looking for, he just wants to hear that over and over again from your quivering lips and raspy throat, he just wants you to say it again. Maybe you should tattoo that as well.

Making you come one last glorious and almost painful time. Your naked body is left, used, sweaty and worn but warmly and safely wrapped in his arms. A huge smirk on his lips before he kisses your eyelids, so you open them again and once again you do.

"Now that we got that out of the way, let me see it again..." Sukuna asks, gently squeezing your tattooed boob inside his large palm, letting his eyes scan each patch of skin and how well he marked you with little hints of hickeys and teeth. "...I think we can play twister with every mark I left on your body," he snickers amused, "...but let's start with those lips on your breast."

“Jerk.”

He grins, satisfied. Hugging you harder to plaster your form closer to him, squeezing that sassy grin out of your pretty face.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NSFW ART FOR THIS DRABBLE 🥵

[annafoxxx7]

Oops...

[Josh Futturman x Female Reader]

POV: You and Josh are bffs, but a seemingly normal visit to his house takes an unexpected turn...

Warnings: Masturbation, pnv, mommy kink (????), idk just like pure smut (plus Josh being a needy, whimpering bottom 😜) ((sorry guys I had writers block so this is like the worst thing I’ve ever written))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Josh have been friends for years. Your houses are next door to each other so you hang out every day. One of you will walk over to the others house after school and spend the rest of the evening there. Even on weekends you'd hang out all day. So your decision to walk over this one Saturday wasn't out of the ordinary.

You show up to his house and let yourself in with the copy of his key that he gave you. You call out his name, only he doesn't respond. He was supposed to be home alone all day. Suddenly, you hear a strange noise coming from his room.

He must be playing a video game or something. You whisper to yourself, walking towards his bedroom

As you lean into his room you see that his eyes are closed. His hand is moving fast, his pants are at his ankles.

“Fuck... y/n-” He moaned.

You froze. Was he thinking about... you????

Holy fuck. Shit... SHIT!

You start to back out of the doorway and try not to make any noise, but end up bumping into the door. He looks up at you in shock.

“Y/n… Jesus… I thought you had plans today what are you doing here… God damn… Did you have to barge in here like this?” Josh grumbles, covering himself.

"Well... I had my key copy and I just thought I'd come say hi. I'm so sorry I-"

"Let me know next time don't just-"

Just say it just say it just say it

"Do you want me to help you? You know... finish?"

Josh’s jaw dropped. “You… Are you for real?”

You had been friends for so long, but there had always been something there. Some kind of unspoken tension pulling you together.

"Yeah... if you want"

He swallowed his pride. “I mean… yeah- yes, please.”

You walk over to him pulling off your jeans and leaving them on the floor, your shirt is next. You straddle him on his chair and he quickly removes your bra, massaging your bare breasts. He kisses your chest and neck. He keeps looking up into your eyes, like he's pleading without saying a word.

The only thing separating your heat from him is the thin layer of your underwear. You grind on his lap, making him moan.

"Please... fuck. Just let me... inside," he whimpers.

"Ok, ok."

You take off your underwear throwing them on the floor and slowly lower yourself down onto his throbbing cock. You both moan as he sinks into you. He begins to thrust into you helplessly, hitting your g-spot with ease. Your clit rubbing against his pelvis as you ride him. It doesn't take long before he's a whimpering mess underneath you.

"Fuck... mommy. Please-"

Woah. You had been called mommy before a few times but this was different. Hearing him say it so helplessly felt different. It felt great. HE felt great. Who would have thought Josh of all people would make you feel so good?

"You're doing so good, baby, keep going. Almost there."

He pushes into you with ease, your bodies fitting together like a puzzle. His big dick pushing up into your cervix as he grabs your waist to keep you steady.

He whimpers and moans, so close to finishing. All it takes a few more sloppy thrusts to put you both over the edge. You clench around him and he twitches inside of you. His cum spilling out of you as you ride out your climaxes.

Breathlessly, Josh says, "Shit... well that was unexpected. I guess now we have to have a whole 'what are we' talk and try not to ruin our friendship and stuff so you know, thanks for that."

You smirk at him. "Oops"

[autisticlancemcclain]

“No.”

Lance groans loudly, forgoing smacking his face in his hands and going straight for banging his head repeatedly against the elevator doors, which Keith thinks is a touch dramatic. But regardless he crosses his arms over his chest and stubbornly refuses to budge from his position.

“Keith. For the love of God.”

“God is dead and I’m not climbing out of a goddamn ten thousand foot elevator hatch with you.”

Keith admittedly puts a tad too much emphasis on the ‘with you’ part of the sentence. It’s obvious in the way Lance stops and lifts his head up and glares at Keith so icily he doesn’t need to squint to make out Lance’s expression in the low emergency lights; his eyes practically burn a hole through Keith’s forehead. Keith winces but doesn’t say anything.

“You have gone toe to toe with a goddamn zombie dictator,” Lance grinds out, “but you’re too much of a pussy to climb an elevator shaft?”

Keith stiffens. “I’m not — shut up!”

Smirking, now, visibly delighted that he’s managed to press Keith’s buttons (God Keith wants to punch him), Lance leans against the elevator wall, hip cocked, feigning nonchalance.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he says, inspecting his nails like it doesn’t matter. “I just never would have thought that the best pilot out of the Garrison and literal pilot of the Red Lion is, you know, a chicken.”

Keith clenches his fists. Lance is frustrated and bored and pushing Keith’s buttons because there’s fuck else to do. He is. Keith knows this.

But he is so goddamn good at it.

“I’m not a fucking chicken, Cargo Pilot.”

‘Cargo Pilot’ is usually a hole-in-one insult that’s guaranteed to make Lance bristle, sure to make him bare his teeth and go bright red and generally lose his absolute shit. Keith is even sparing in his use of the term, careful not to let it lose its potency.

But because the universe hates him and also Lance is the most annoying motherfucker alive, his smirk only widens, and he flexes his fingers, still fucking casual, still not even bothering to look up in Keith’s direction.

I hate you, Keith thinks, with feeling.

“Sure,” Lance says, without. He shrugs. “Prove it.”

For a second Keith thinks he’s so mad that he might. But then he imagines it fully, pictures his bare back pressed against Lance’s, feet planted on the slippery castle walls, lights probably still out, struggling to put one foot in front of the other and drag each other upright. He thinks of how much effort that would take and how easily he would start to sweat, how easily every shift of their muscles would loosen the friction-borne grip between them, how easily his foot could slip. He thinks of how long a ten thousand foot drop would take, how long he would have to accept that he’s going to die before he splats on the pristine floor.

His stomach turns. His face goes green.

Lance’s jaw drops.

“Oh my God, you’re afraid of heights!”

“I am not!” Keith snaps, because he isn’t, he just has a fucking brain. “It’s just — it’s ten thousand fucking feet, Lance!”

“A pilot!” Lance screeches. “A pilot afraid of heights!”

“You are so goddamn extra!” Keith cries.

Lance makes more vague screeching noises. He gestures furiously at Keith, then pauses, then makes a sound in the back of his throat akin to a loudly dying whale, then gestures back at Keith, then at the ceiling, then at the elevator as a whole. Then he lets out one loud, long, final yell, completely wordless and directed at what Keith can only assume is the heavens, and stops, closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and very calmly crawls onto the floor, belly first, and lays perfectly flat with his face pressed to the tiles.

“I hate it here,” he says serenely. He pauses for a minute, thoughtful. “Also, I hate you.”

“Ditto,” Keith mutters, finally giving up and joining him on the floor. He tips his head back until it thumps on the elevator wall and sighs, loud and long, wondering vaguely if this is punishment for the hundreds of times he mocked Shiro for his fear of squirrels. He truly thinks it might be.

All he wanted was twenty goddamn minutes in the pool. That’s all. He’d have even taken ten. He just wanted to swim a few laps, maybe float for a bit, and pretend he was in a lake somewhere without pressing problems such as saving the universe and the fate of every single soul in it.

Eight minutes, really. Seven.

The lights flicker back on. Lance lifts his head, hopeful, then stretches out one ridiculously long leg (seriously what is the deal with that he’s basically a giraffe, it’s too much, Keith should talk to someone about it because since when were legs allowed to be that — long and shapely, or whatever, it’s weird) and presses the closest button with his toe.

It does nothing. Lance stares at it for a few minutes, as if attempting to bring the elevator alive by manifestation alone, but no life is forthcoming. Lance huffs sadly and returns his face to the floor.

“That’s really disgusting,” Keith says, although he has his fair share of Floor Time. “People walk on this floor all the time.”

Lance doesn’t bother looking up, groaning loudly for several minutes before simply rolling away to the opposite side of the elevator.

“Shut up,” he says finally, after so long Keith almost forgets his original comment. “You just —”

Abruptly he straightens up, pulling the towel off his neck and crawling forward to place it in the middle of the elevator. Keith rolls his eyes so hard it actually hurts, a little.

“You and your commentary stay on the loser stinky mullet half of the elevator,” Lance says. “The pretty half that’s not infected with your rancid vibes belongs to me.”

“Were you trained to be this annoying?” Keith ponders, half out of genuine curiosity. “Like, do you do this on purpose?”

“Ignoring you now,” Lance says primly.

Keith scowls. He’s not — Keith isn’t the one who’s too irritating to be around without going insane.

“I’m ignoring you, asshole.”

Lance doesn’t respond. Keith closes one eye and holds up his thumb and forefinger to the approximate shape of Lance’s face, pretending he’s squishing his head. It brings him great peace.

After a while, though, he starts to get restless. His legs starts bouncing, up and down so fast it’s blurry, and then his fingers start to tap, but the feeling of rustling under his skin only gets worse, spinning faster and faster and coil tightening more and more in his stomach until he just — implodes, really, until his brain goes boom and says if you don’t get moving right this second, and Keith says in response to it, believe me I’m on it. He’s scrambling to his feet before he has the conscious thought to do so, hands moving before he tells them to and pushing him upright, bare feet padding rapidly on the floor as he paces, three steps until he hits the wall then pivot then three steps then pivot then three steps again. Over and over and over. His fingers stop tapping but his shoulders get twitchy; itchy under his skin and on it, sweaty because there’s no airflow and this goddamn elevator is sweltering. Or he’s just hot. He usually runs hot. He’s not sure and he doesn’t care to know, because the pool would have been refreshing but instead he’s stuck in a ten by ten by ten cube stuck somewhere on a ten thousand foot tube and to his right his rival-slash-teammate keeps huffing and rubbing his hands on his arms and muttering to himself.

“Could you maybe cut that out,” Keith snaps, which is entirely unfair because his pacing isn’t quiet, but Keith is three seconds away from attempting to climb the walls and it’s Lance, anyway, when are they not arguing, so it doesn’t matter.

Maybe when you’re having a crisis-brought bonding moment, says a voice in his brain. Stuck elevators are kind of a crisis.

Shut up or I’m going to give myself a concussion, Keith responds to it.

“Not my fault it’s goddamn freezing in here,” Lance snaps.

Keith pauses. He looks down at Lance. He frowns.

“Your lips are blue,” he observes, bewildered.

“Eat shit,” Lance responds, predictably. He’s fucking — he’s shivering.

Keith is made astutely aware of the cooling sweat on his back and grimaces.

“Lance,” he says slowly, “it is not cold in here.”

Lance blows out a breath like the goddamn weight of the world is on his shoulders. He flicks his eyes up to meet Keith’s, who is standing behind his head and leaning down, and somehow manages to seem like the more put-together person between them, which is bonkers.

“I’m anaemic, stupid.”

Keith blinks. Suddenly the air feels very solemn, and he shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t know you had an eating disorder,” he manages eventually.

Lance’s faces scrunches up in confusion for seven whole seconds before it clears, and he looks at Keith like he is the dumbest man alive and then bursts out laughing.

“That’s — anorexic, you idiot! I don’t have enough blood!”

“Oh,” Keith says, face heating. He scowls as Lance continues to laugh way harder than what was called for, clutching his stomach with tears rolling down his face. He pokes Lance aggressively with his toe, and by that he means his kicks him. “Will you stop — it’s not that funny, dickhead!”

“It really is,” Lance wheezes.

Keith scowls harder. His face is as red as his shorts and the flush is starting to spread down his chest and Lance notices and it only makes him laugh more, because he’s a shithead of the worst kind. “I hope you choke.”

Keith flicks his towel over his head and yanks, embarrassed, stomping to the other side of the elevator as if that will somehow make Lance shut up faster. It doesn’t, obviously, and he hears Lance laugh for several minutes until he finally winds down to giggling, then eventually nothing.

Keith harrumphs quietly to himself. He resolves to sticking in his corner like he should have from the very beginning, until the elevator starts moving again or someone on the team comes to save them. At this point he’s so done he wouldn’t even care if it was Shiro, wouldn’t even care if Shiro gloated about it for eternity (Keith saved his ass from government experimentation, anyway, so he wins by default for the rest of time). He faces his corner and pulls his knees to his chest and starts picking at a loose thread in the seam of his shorts to amuse himself.

Several minutes later, he hears Lance shifting. He ignores it. He pulls at the thread until it comes loose, then busies himself with tying the thread into the most complicated and random knot he can.

A few more minutes later, and there’s the sound of fabric rustling and draping, then quiet cursing. Keith untangles and retangles his knot for the fourth time.

After what must be a half hour, Keith hears the sound of teeth chattering.

He sighs. He looks forlornly at his knot.

“I could just ignore him,” he mutters to himself. “He probably won’t die.”

He thinks of how short Lance’s shorts are. He pinches his own towel in his fingertips, so thin he can practically feel his fingerprints. He remembers blue lips and a clenched jaw and raised gooseflesh.

He sighs loudly, more of a groan, and flicks his ball of thread away.

It takes Lance a few seconds to respond to Keith looming over him, which is worrying. But eventually he cracks open one brown eye and flares up at Keith.

“What,” he mutters. His teeth are chattering so bad it sounds like two words.

“You’re freezing,” Keith says. His voice is softer than he expected it to be.

Lance huffs, closing his eye again and curling further into himself. “No shit.”

Keith frowns. “I’m not.”

“Well, rub it in, why dontcha.”

Keith frowns. “You’re not understanding.”

Lance ignores him. Keith has a sudden and vivid memory of the year Shiro and Adam drove him up to Seattle in the winter so he could be more cultured, or whatever (or less of a desert menace, Adam had argued, and perhaps more inclined to stop biting people), and spent the whole car ride lecturing him about hypothermia.

“It doesn’t take very long to set in,” Shiro had said.

“And once you have it you need to warm up or your heart can stop,” Adam had finished, very serious.

Suddenly Keith starts to feel very panicked.

Lukewarm tea, warm blankets, skin to skin contact with someone who’s warm, were Shiro’s instructions. And then possibly hospital.

Well. Keith has one of those things.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he wraps a gentle hand around Lance’s shoulder, tugging him upright, then pulls him forward so his cradled hands are pressed against Keith’s chest and his head is tucked into the junction of Keith’s neck.

Worryingly, it takes Lance almost thirty seconds to start complaining.

“You smell like mullet,” he whines. But he doesn’t move away. In fact, he burrows closer.

Keith swallows down his worry. “Mullets don’t smell like anything, dumbass.” He brings his hands up to press against Lance’s back. Lance groans, curling deeper into Keith’s hold. His nose is icy and burns a trail across Keith’s shoulder, down his collarbone. Keith’s flush from earlier makes an enthusiastic return, because nothing good still exists in the world.

“I still think you’re annoying,” Lance mumbles. Every move of his lip brushes against Keith’s skin.

“Shut up and focus on not freezing to death,” Keith snaps.

Lance snorts. “I’m not gonna freeze to death, doofus. It’s just a dead elevator. Once I fell asleep on the Garrison rooftop in January and only had to spend three days in urgent care, so basically I can withstand anything.”

Keith pauses. He tries to reconcile the Lance who just said that to the Lance who came up with a life saving plan in thirty seconds on the Balmera to the Lance who threatened to stick Keith in a wormhole to the Lance who smiled and said they made a good team before passing out in Keith’s arms.

“You are a very confusing person,” he says when all the reconciling does absolutely nothing.

“Thank you,” Lance says, sounding pleased.

Keith snorts and tightens his hold. Lance sighs and sags a little. Slowly his fingers stop feeling so much like ice blocks, and his breathing doesn’t sound so erratic. Keith doesn’t know how long it’s been. He stopped trying to count somewhere between when Lance’s cheek squished against his chest and his fingers started tracing featherlight patterns across his skin.

Lance yawns. Keith tries to fight his but ends up yawning anyway.

“Is it bad to let a person with hypothermia sleep?” he mumbles, half-slurring his words.

Lance hums. “‘M not hypothermic.”

“Dunno. Could be.”

He sighs again, a puff of air against Keith’s neck, and spreads his palms against Keith’s chest, flat. “‘M not. You’re too warm.” He pauses. “Freak.”

His tone is fond. The corners of Keith’s lips quirk up. “Weirdo.”

“Mhm.”

He falls asleep trying to count Lance’s breaths. It’s — groundbreaking, somehow.

———

(“Oh, my God.”

Keith cracks open bleary eyes, lifting a hand to rub his face. Lance groans from his place on Keith’s chest — in a puddle of drool, why is that not nearly as revolting as it should be — and snatches Keith’s wrist way faster than he should be able to as groggy as he is, placing it back around his waist.

“Oh, my God,” the voice repeats, gleeful.

“Shut up, Shiro,” Keith mutters. “Fuck.”

It takes him a minute.

His eyes fly open at the same time as Lance’s, and they look at each other, and then Keith is being shoved and kicked at the same time somehow and Lance is scrambling backwards at the speed of light, screeching. A loud bang makes Keith look over and he discovers his brother, who is dead to him, collapsed on the floor, laughing so loud Zarkon can probably hear him.

“What — Shiro — go — stop fucking laughing, you piece of shit!”

Lance continues to screech. Keith whips a towel at him.

“You gay pining loser!” Shiro shrieks. “I’m going to tell literally everyone!”

Keith puts his head in his hands and wishes he’d fallen down the goddamn elevator shaft.)

[visionarymode]

Murderous

✧ warnings: smut, language, 18+

✧ pairing: jimmy uso x female reader

✧ word count: 2,738

“I can’t believe you brought a real knife,” she shook her head while taking off her black boots. It was around one in the morning and she and Jimmy just got back from her best friend’s Halloween party. 

“It’s good I did! You ain’t seen those thirsty fuckers staring at your ass all night. I was ready to slice ‘em” he exaggerated bringing the knife to his neck. 

“That’s why you kept grabbing it all night…” she giggled remembering how he’d pull her to his chest and grab a handful every time a group of people came up to have a conversation. 

“Hell yeah that’s why I kept grabbin’ it! This all mine,” he growled against her lips as he spanked her, her tutu from the bunny costume fluffing up. 

“Yours only baby,” she smiled, kissing him for further reassurance. 

“Mmm, damn right,” he mumbled sucking on her tongue as he groped her one more time. He scooped her up in his arms and pinned her against the wall as he left sloppy kisses down her neck. 

“Mm, you still wanna party huh?” she breathed out with a giggle. 

“That party was lame as hell anyways,” he pecked her lips. She dropped her jaw at his comment.

“Don’t come for bestie like that! It was fun,” she nudged his chest to defend her. 

“Man they didn’t even have any beer pong!” he kissed his teeth making her chuckle again. 

“Don’t we still have that tennis table in the basement?” she asked with curiosity. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“You wanted beer pong let’s play some beer pong,” she expressed dropping down to the floor. 

He started laughing as she turned around with furrowed brows. 

“What? Don’t think I can beat you?” she asked still a bit tipsy from earlier. 

“Hell nah. I will whoop that ass,” he pointed his knife at her before setting his Michael Myers mask on the counter. Then an idea popped in her head. 

“Let’s make it interesting then,” she chimed in with a smirk. 

He raised his brows with anticipation as he crossed his arms. She walked towards him to zip down his jumpsuit before getting on her tiptoes to meet his lips. 

“How about…strip beer pong?” she suggested with a grin. He grinned back and nodded his head. 

“Shit okay,” he laughed excitingly pecking her lips. 

“Let me go get that table,” he slid his finger down her chest before poking her belly. 

✧✧✧✧✧

“Okay, I think that’s all of them.” 

She finished pouring the beer in the last solo cup and placed the bottle on the counter. 

“Wait- this isn’t even fair you only have the jumpsuit on,” she realized looking over at his costume. 

“I ain’t gonna be takin’ anything off. Those cups…” he pointed at the cups in front of her. 

“Are gonna be empty in about three minutes,” he dramatically held up three fingers with a big ass grin. 

“Yeah okay,” she scoffed. 

“Ladies first.” 

He rested his hands on each side of the table fully focused on her. She was extremely confident once the idea of the game came about, but she hadn’t played beer pong in years. His taunting and her swirling tipsy mind weren’t helping her focus. 

“You gonna forfeit already?” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” she kept her eyes on his cups and tossed the ping pong ball and made the shot. 

“Drink & strip bitch,” she laughed pointing at him. He shook his head and chugged the beer. 

“Okay okay.” he mumbled wiping droplets of beer off his mouth. 

He went to zip down the jumpsuit but instead took off his shoes. 

“Now what the fuck?” she asked eyeing him in annoyance. 

“Whatchu’ mean? It’s on my body, so I’m gonna take it off my body!” he flaunted his arms up and down. 

“Pussy,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Whatchu’ say?” he asked before tossing the ping pong ball straight in her cup without even looking. She dropped her jaw at his effortless throw. 

“Yeaaaaaah, who’s the pussy now?” he laughed rubbing his hands together. 

“Drink and strip baby!” he mocked her. She rolled her eyes and chugged the beer taking off her bunny ears. He kissed his teeth in response. 

“What? It’s on my body!” she mocked back. 

She missed the next three shots and he was about to make his fourth shot in a row. She’d already taken off her boots and necklace, leaving her with just her corset, tutu, and of course…her bra and panties. He made another perfect shot in her cup and started clapping his hands obnoxiously loud. 

“Go ‘head and take that little tutu off,” he pointed at it with a big ass smirk. 

She chugged the drink and threw it to the side as she slipped the tutu off, revealing her white lace thong. He gawked at the view, licking his lips with desire. 

“Don’t get distracted now,” she drunkenly teased giving him a spin to get a full 360 view of her ass. 

“Mmmm,” he bit his lip but she threw the tutu in his face causing him to come back to. 

“My turn!” she sang and ended up missing her shot, again. 

“What the fuck?!” she dropped her jaw at the failed attempt as he laughed at her. It was his turn again and to no surprise, he made it in the cup with ease. 

“Who the one? Jim Uso the one!” he yelled with a laugh putting up his finger in the air like a goof. 

She stared at him in defeat and sighed as she took the ping pong ball out the cup and took her time drinking the beer. Droplets fell down her chin and onto her breasts that were spilling out the corset. 

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” she remarked wiping the beer off her mouth with her thumb. 

“Uh uh. Strip.” 

She tried to shoot him a glare but instead failed at hiding her smile. She was drunk, tired, and at this point very horny. She walked over to his side of the table and kept her eyes on his as she unzipped the back of her black corset revealing her matching white lace bra. 

“I said I don’t wanna play anymore…” she threw the corset across the room and jumped up on the table continuing to tease him. 

He eyes fixated on her half naked body in front of him, almost like he was mentally planning how to fuck her up right then and there. 

“What, you gonna murder me?” she playfully whispered, scooting further back as she lifted her right leg on the table. 

He deeply chuckled and stood over her with the knife in his hand, practically staring into her soul. 

“Yeah…” he used the flat side of the knife to lift up her chin to meet his dark and hungry gaze. 

“…I’m gonna murder this pussy,” he deeply spoke against her lips. She bit her lip as he slowly ran his hand up her bare thigh. Her body erupted in goosebumps at his touch and he responded to her arousal by sliding his tongue in her mouth. She held herself up with her hands spread back on the table as she kissed back. He dragged his tongue over her neck, audibly smacking it against her skin. 

“Mmm, baby…” she moaned with her eyes shut as her head fell back. She felt like she was floating as he smoothly traced his warm tongue on her neck. 

He continued to suck on the same spot and she knew it would leave a bruise. 

“I’m gonna mark up every inch of this body you know why?” he asked grazing the cold steel down her chest making her squirm beneath him. 

“Why?” she whispered, lifting her head up to lock her eyes with his as he slid it down her thighs. 

“Because it’s mine. Turn that ass around and get on your hands and knees,” he demanded. 

She obeyed and got on all fours, looking back at him zipping down the jumpsuit so his upper tanned and tattooed body was exposed. The view made her arch her back and angle her ass in the air closer to him. 

“Mmmm daddy,” she complimented as he ran his palm over her ass in response. 

He then smacked it with the flat side of the knife and the cool contact made her gasp. He ran his two middle fingers along her drenched thong and let out a chuckle. 

“You soakin’ for me already huh?” 

he grabbed her ass with both hands, leaving sloppy kisses and bites on each cheek. 

“Nobody can get you drippin’ like I do…” he breathed against her inner thighs leaving soft kisses but staying away from her clothed pussy. 

“Baby please,” she whined again with a shaky breath. 

His wet slurps near her clothed hole were making her pussy throb uncontrollably. He spanked her with the knife again, the cool contact turning her on even more. 

“Whatchu’ want?” he asked as he hooked his fingers under the left side of her panties vindictively toying with her. 

“I wanna cum in your mouth baby…” she squirmed again as he slid the knife down her lower back.

His deep and evil laugh made her pussy thump louder. Her head dropped down again with shaky breath before he slit the left hip of her panties with the knife. 

“Damn right you gon’ cum,” he deeply spoke as he cut the other side of her thong with the blade. He purposely snatched her panties from the bottom, his fingers sliding over her pussy revealing her wet mess. He tossed her cut up thong across the room and gripped her hips towards his mouth. He opened her slick folds and loudly spit between them. 

“Fuck…” she moaned as he used his two fingers to spread his saliva along her drenched entrance. He slowly slipped those same fingers inside her causing her to gasp as she used her hands to push back and grind against his fingers. 

“You like that baby?” he sinfully asked, pumping his fingers in and out of her at a faster pace, the sloshing sounds growing louder. 

“Y-yessss,” she cried struggling to hold herself up. He brought his thumb over her clit to run smooth circles over it causing her body to tremble from her climax creeping up. 

“I’m gonna cum fuck…” she moaned before he slowly slipped his fingers out grabbing the knife to spank her again.

“Uh uh. Not yet.” He spread open her slick folds with his thumbs before gliding his thick wet tongue along her entrance making her moan loudly again. 

“Fuuuuuuck baby…” she gasped as he slowly lapped up and down her pussy, humming against her. He used both hands to jiggle her ass before aggressively slapping it leaving a visible red hand print. He continued to make out with her pussy, his tongue speedily licking her up as his beard tickled her inner thighs. 

“Jim-Jimmy…” she moaned feeling overly drunk with pleasure as his pace and sounds of his tongue slurping her up grew increasingly rapid. 

“Yeah…cum for daddy,” he coached her knowing she was on the verge of releasing. To think that he couldn’t flick his tongue any faster, he did the unthinkable and ate her up like there was no tomorrow. 

“Oh my goooooood,” she moaned and he moaned in unison as she squirted in his mouth, on his beard and down her inner thighs as she dripped from overflowing cum. 

“Mmmmm,” he groaned, licking up every drop of her. She felt her mind spinning from her orgasm, deeply panting from all her screaming.

“Yeah no other man can make you cum like that…” he chuckled running his hands up your back to unclip your bra. 

“Let’s go,” he spanked her with the cool steel again as he flipped her over. 

“Go where…” she faintly asked before he grabbed her cheeks and pressed his forehead on hers. 

“I’m not done with your ass yet,” he strictly uttered, picking her up in his arms and heading up the stairs. The moonlight peeked through the curtains as he gently tossed her on the bed. She bit her lip watching his silhouette become visible. He slipped off his jumpsuit, his hard and thick bulge poking out his boxers. He took them off as his pretty, long brown dick seeped with pre cum sprung out. 

“You should dress up like a serial killer every…day,” she smirked scooting back on the fluffy sheets as he hovered over her. 

“Yeah? You like it huh?” he softly asked grabbing the knife from the end of the bed to lift her chin up with it. 

“Mhm,” she softly moaned staring into his deep brown eyes as he brought the knife up to his lips, sticking out his long and pretty pink tongue to lick the steel, his other hand dropping down to her sticky mess. 

“You like when I fuck you up like this?” he whispered against her lips, firmly holding the knife beneath her chin. 

“Yeah baby…” she shakily moaned as he dragged his tip trickling with his cum up and down her entrance, dampening it even more. 

“Whose pussy is this?” he purred in her ear as he slowly slid his length inside her soaked hole.

“Mmmm yours,” she whimpered as he thrusted every inch of his shaft inside of her with slow and steady strokes. 

“You’re damn fuckin’ right it’s mine,” he grunted, picking up the pace as his sloppy dick drove in and out of her.

“I love you…” she moaned as his cold chain caressed her chest. 

“I love you baby,” he pronounced back as he bit her bottom lip before gliding his tongue in her mouth. They both pulled back, their mouths parting open as they moaned in unison as he impulsively buried himself inside of her. His dick slipped out from how fast he was thrusting into her and he took the opportunity to get them both on their side, her back leaning against his glistening chest. He nibbled on her earlobe as a low grunt escaped his mouth, pushing himself back inside her with heavier strokes. 

“You like when I’m deep in this pussy baby?” he wickedly whispered in her ear. He hooked his arm under her right leg to spread open her legs wider, pile driving his dick in her as she clenched around him. 

“Yesssss daddy,” she cried out as her breasts started bouncing with how hard he was ramming into her. She felt him in the pit of her stomach as her eyes fluttered, overwhelmed with pleasure. The headboard battered against the wall  from how rough he was plunging into her. 

“Fuck baby…look at me,” he groaned. His voice blared in her ear but she was too engulfed in ecstasy to turn her head. Her heart was pounding in her chest at the same rate his thick dick was pounding into her pussy. He used the same arm that held up her leg to turn her jaw towards him.

“You gon’ milk this dick baby?” he panted as he locked eyes with her teary ones. 

“Mmmm…y-y-yes,” she choked out. Her voice was a faint whisper compared to the sound of his balls slapping against her skin blaring over it. He licked his lips as his dick spasmed from her walls contracting around his warmth. Shockwaves took over her body as she came on his dick, his own orgasm following as he thrusted himself in her one last time filling her up with every drop of his seed. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” he moaned as his hand dragged down the the back of her thigh to play with her clit to help her come down from her high. They laid there with their chests heaving as he cupped her face to bring her back to his lips, lazily and sloppily kissing her as he continued to swirl his thumb around her clit. Her legs still slightly shaking from how hard he made her cum. The sheets under them were completely soaked from their juices. He slowly slipped his dick out causing them both to moan one last time.

“Oh my god-“ she panted as she moved away strands of her hair that stuck to her forehead and face. He breathlessly chuckled pulling her closer. 

“Told you I’d murder this pussy,” he playfully gritted through his teeth against her lips, grabbing her ass causing her to grin. 

✧✧✧✧✧

thank you so much for reading! <3 I hope y'all enjoyed this halloween inspired jimmy fic 🎃😈

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[buckyalpine]

Hello! I have a request please! Loving the idea of bucky and reader having a relationship/hookup but not staying together. Then reader gets a new bf, but bucky catches her still wearing his own shirt to bed or something, and teases her about wishing they were still together etc. you decide how it ends 😈 have been listening to “smells like me” by Charlie Puth lately and can’t stop thinking about this scenario!!

18+

I love this and ofc this is going to have a happy fluffy ending but some angst and steaminess throughout because I am a sucker for this type of scenario. 

Some angst, jealousy, possessive horny Bucky, all the smut, Bucky's filthy mouth, needy sex, some cheating but i promise it adds to the spice okay? (plus the guy is a loser)

-

It was a mutual decision to break up. At least that’s what you both told yourselves. It started off as a mutual transaction; just hooking up and staying friends with benefits so nothing would get complicated. You and Bucky fucked like rabbits in every position and every surface imaginable. Things were great, until they weren’t.

You caught feelings. He kept his hidden. 

Bucky didn’t think he could do a relationship. You wanted more. 

He initiated the break up and while it hurt you, you both agreed it was for the best since you wanted different things. 

That was months ago. 

Moving on wasn’t easy but you weren’t going to waste your life away crying over someone who didn’t want you. You started dating again and eventually you found something relatively stable. Things were fine. Good. Bucky had avoided you completely after the break up but took a sudden interest in you again after he found out you were seeing someone. 

“So, you’re actually into this guy?” He raised an eyebrow, hanging around the kitchen, unable to contain his curiosity after he saw you arrive home from your date. He felt a drop of something deep in his chest, seeing you in a dress he had never seen before. His knuckles were nearly white, clenching his hands to his sides to keep himself in check but his jaw clenched hearing the click of your heels against the tile floor. 

All dressed up for some other man. 

“Mhm” You shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, avoiding eye contact with the super solider. You were over him. You were so over him. You had a boyfriend and you were over Bucky. You had to be. “Why else would I go out with him”

“He doesn’t seem like your type” Bucky sassed, hoping to mask the bubbling jealousy that continued to rise in his chest. 

“Oh, and you know what my type is?” You spat back, turning on your heel to glare at him. “You’re an expert on who I should date?” 

“I’m just saying” He took a few steps towards you, “I thought you had better standards” He knew what he was doing, biting his lip, watching your chest heave, the eyes that used to roll back from pleasure now throwing daggers at him. 

“Well I like him. Who I date isn’t any of your concern anyway James” Your nails dug into your palms, deciding against entertaining his shit any longer, holding your tongue back. Bucky felt something pang in his stomach watching the way your hips swayed as you stormed off to your room without looking back. 

****

Bucky couldn’t stand it. 

He figured you’d drop this guy eventually but it only got worse. 

You brought your boyfriend around the compound more.

He’d occasionally stay for movie night. 

Bucky would have to watch you cuddle up with him, the both of you going back to your room after for God knows what. He’d see the guy sitting in the living room, waiting for you to get ready for your dates. For fucks sake, he was even there at breakfast after he spent the night over. 

Every time your boyfriend did something, Bucky would mentally correct him. He could see your body tense whenever he put his arm around you; you liked being held securely and this guys arm dangled lightly behind your waist. He never gave you his full attention when you spoke, never remembered the little details about you. Bucky was sure he had caught him flirting with some of the other agents, holding himself back from punching him in the jaw. 

Fuck, he didn’t even kiss you properly. It was too hesitant, too gentle, Bucky knew how you loved to be kissed, how to make you weak in the knees. He would have ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it back, tilting your face up, to look at him. He would have cupped your cheeks, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other gently wrapped around your neck, his teeth gently nipping your lips. He wouldn’t have given a fuck about people being around, if you were his girl he would have-

No. Never mind. 

Your new boyfriend clearly didn’t know what he was doing anywhere. On more than one occasion, Tony had a shit eating grin on his face because Bucky had you screaming over the sound proof walls. 

Why the fuck were you with him when should have been with..

Someone else.

Though there was one other thing Bucky had noticed. One thing he made note of multiple times, his ego growing more every time it happened. 

You wandered down to the kitchen before bed to get a glass of water, stopping when your eyes landed on the brunette super solider, his sweats low on his hips, his upper body on full display after he left his hoodie in the gym. You decided to ignore him, grabbing a cup and filling it, your breath hitching hearing his low voice. 

“I thought that shirt looked familiar” He took a few steps towards you, noting the way you kept your eyes trained on your glass.  “You look comfy”

“I-

“You what” Bucky smirked, his eyes raking up and down your bare legs, cocking his head while you backed yourself against the counter. “What is it sweets”

“Nothing” you swallowed thickly, mentally scolding yourself for getting caught wearing his Henley to bed. You had no excuse, you had plenty of your own over sized t-shirts you could have worn but....

“Does your boyfriend know where you got that shirt, why you sleep with it almost every night” You couldn't bring yourself to speak, shaking your head, heart racing. “You know I noticed you wear it all the time, even when your snuggled up with him. You just can’t stop yourself can you, he’s not the same” 

He’s not you. 

“You still think about me, hm?” Bucky couldn't help himself, a part of him knowing he had no right to look at you like that, you had a boyfriend but his body was moving on its own, pressing you against the counter, his lips dropping to your ear. “Does he fuck like I can?”

“Bucky stop” You tried to ignore the shiver that ran through your body, his hips pressing against you, his erection digging into your hip. You bit your lip, trying to keep your hands from palming his chest, avoiding his eyes. 

“Tell me, does he touch you like I do?” He kept his hands to his sides but he couldn't help but rock his hips against you, his cock achingly hard, desperate for some relief. He let out a strained groan, precum starting to dampen his brief's. 

“Bucky-” You tried to push him away from you but he pressed himself against you harder, your back digging against the counter. “Stop” Your voice was a whimper, you knew you could have pushed him off if you wanted to...you should have...

“Does he make love to you like me, reach that spot that makes you scream?” His nose dragged along the column of your neck, his tongue gliding across your skin, filthy mouth unrelenting. 

“Does his cock fill you like mine does” 

No. 

“Does he nurse on your clit like I do, suck and kiss that sweet, pretty little nub of yours until his face is soaked with your cum? Does he lick and drink your sweetness like I do baby, does he get hard just off the way you taste?”

No. 

“Does he make himself cum on your bed from just rubbing himself on it when he’s between those thighs? Does he worship your body like I do princess, tell me, does he stroke his cock every night, moaning for you?”

No.

“Does he paint your body with cum, does it clean it off nice? Lick off every drop of the mess he makes like I do? You miss that, don’t you baby, you miss my hot cum on your body, you miss my warm tongue cleaning you up right afterwards? You miss it filling your pussy up and dripping onto the sheets, you miss the way I fuck it right back into you and have you suck if off my cock” 

You didn’t even realize you had parted your legs, letting his thigh press against your needy cunt, your hips rocking and grinding on him as he continued to lure you to him, he couldn't hold back any longer. 

“Look at you rubbing yourself on me princess, he doesn’t satisfy you does he?” You let out a broken moan, grinding on his thigh harder while gripping onto the counter, it was wrong, you knew it was wrong but it all felt so right. 

“I know he doesn’t, I know you still touch yourself thinking about me, these sweet little fingers-” He grabbed your hand, nipping your finger tips with his teeth, “-aren’t enough are they baby, his cock isn’t enough, you need mine, huh doll?” 

You tried to shake your head but you nodded instead, there was no point in lying now. Bucky growled, grabbing your hips, helping you rock yourself on him more. 

“Tell me you need my cock”

“I-I need-fuck-”

“Say it baby, tell me you need me to fill your pussy up”

“B-Bucky” Your thighs squeezed together around his, your body nearly trembling feeling his lips suck onto your neck. 

“That’s not what you call me, c’mon, say it”

“Daddy” 

“That’s it” He cooed, sliding his hands down your panties, finding your soaked cunt dripping for him, your body easily betraying you. “So wet for daddy already” He shoved his fingers up your needy cunt, crooking them to rub against your sweet spot making you bite down onto his bare shoulder to keep your screams down. 

“Tell daddy you want his fat cock baby”

“Wan’ it daddy” You nearly wailed at the stretch of his fingers alone, nothing compared to the feel of the cool metal scissoring and pumping in you, moving faster. Bucky could tell by the way you bit down harder, your nails digging into his skin, you were close. He pulled his fingers out, shoving them in his mouth instead, greedily sucking off your arousal. 

“MMmgh, God you’re so sweet- Fuck this” Bucky grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulder, taking you straight to his room and throwing you onto his bed. He got rid of his sweats and brief's within seconds, stripping you naked immediately after. He crawled on top of your body, parting your legs, his warm breath fanning your face. You whined at the feel of his length rutting against your core, a part of your brain screaming at you to stop. 

“Bucky, we can’t” You couldn't help but spread your legs further, bringing your thighs up. 

“Can’t what” His hand snaked down to line his cock up, rubbing the head onto your clit. 

“I-you know I can’t” You shook your head, panting as he pressed against it further, making you moan. 

“You don’t want it?” He nudged his tip against your clenching pussy, prodding against your entrance leaving you reeling. “Tell me”

“Bucky, please, I-” 

“Please what princess”

“We can’t, we can’t we can’t we-oh god, fuck, FUCKK” You threw your head back as he pushed his cock into your soaked pussy, not wasting any time, his hips snapping, pounding you into the mattress. Your legs wrapped around his waist, crying and chanting his name as his cock hit all the right spots, stretching you the way you craved. 

Bucky moaned into your neck, your pussy gripping onto him, puling him back in with each thrust, fluttering and clenching around him. 

“M’never letting you go again” Bucky grabbed your writs, pinning them against the bed above your head, pulling his knees up to fuck you deeper. “I need you” 

“Fuckkkk James” Tears streaked your face, the silky tip of his cock rubbing and stroking your sweet spot repeatedly, his balls slapping against your ass. 

“O-only I can make you moan like this” He picked his pace up, fucking you harder, sitting back on his heels and holding your legs apart. “Don’t think i didn’t hear you sweets, touching yourself thinking about me even when you were with him” 

He spat onto your clit, his thumb rubbing soft circles making your back arch in pleasure. 

“I touched myself to you too baby, thought about you every damn day with my cock in my fist. I missed you so bad, I wanted to fuck and make love to you, wanted every piece of you”

“Please-James”

Bucky got lost in the feeling of you, desperate to be as close as possible. He dropped your legs, falling on top of you and wrapping his arms around your body. He rolled you over so you were on top, holding you close while he thrusted up into you. 

“I’ll never let you go again y/n, you’re mine, you’re all fucking mine baby” 

“Don’t let me go James” You moaned into his neck, clinging onto his body while his cock throbbed, his pace growing sloppy. 

“No, look at me” His eyes were glassy, one hand cupping your face to make you look at him. “I love you, I fucking love you, please princess” He fucked you harder, his moans mixed with yours filling the room, your lips brushing against his. “Fuck- I love you” 

“I love you” You cried out, your pussy fluttering, the band in your belly about to snap. 

“Cum for me baby, c’mon, cum on my dick, make a mess on me, soak my cock and balls with your cum angel, give it to me”

“JAMES FUCK” Your orgasm ripped through your body, falling limp on him while he pounded up into you, your moans and screams bouncing off the walls. Bucky held you tighter, his cock twitching unable to hold back any more, his balls pulled tight to his body.  

“M’gonna cum” He moaned, desperately holding onto  you while you kissed him, swallowing his moans. “Oh fuck, m’gonna cum y/n” 

“Cum James, fill me up bubba” You cooed softly in his ear, kissing his temple while he let out a throatily groan, his body tensing, cock swelling. 

“FUCKK M’cumming so. fucking. hard for you baby, it’s all for you God-fuck-it’s all for you” His body stilled, his warm seed filling you till it dripped out. “Wanna be the only one to cum in you like this, you’re mine” He continued to rut into you, whining at the overstimulation, his cock still dribbling with cum “Can’t even stop cumming for you baby, fuck it won’t stop” He continued to moan and lightly thrust into you until he emptied his cock, the sheets damp from his load. 

You both laid in silence, giving each other soft kisses, his arms still secure around you, holding you close to his chest. You couldn't ignore the way your heart fluttered, you shouldn’t have been there, none of this should have happened and yet...

“Stay” 

You looked up at him while he brought you closer, kissing your forehead. 

“Please stay”

“Bucky, you didn’t want me until-

“I was a fucking idiot, I love you, baby please stay” His eyes were pleading with you, clinging onto you tighter. You knew you should have gone back to your room but for some reason this felt right. You melted into his embrace, letting him cuddle you. “You’re mine”

“Bucky, my boy-

“I want to be your boyfriend. Please. I’m sorry sweets, I shouldn’t have pushed you away, I-I want you to be mine” 

You thought for a moment, the way you couldn't pull yourself away from him, falling right into his embrace, not feeling anything for anyone else, all your feelings just for him.

“I’m yours” You mumbled against his skin, falling asleep in his bed, your heart finally back where it belonged. 

(and ofc you break up with your loser boyfriend after, cause he was useless anyway) 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @carrotfantasimp    

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

day eleven: humiliation | NSFW MDNI 18+

The door slammed shut behind Logan as he stomped inside, his heavy boots echoing against the floor. You had done absolutely nothing today, and the place was a mess. Last night's leftover pots and pans were still soaking in the sink. The laundry basket was still full of dirty clothes, and the table was still cluttered with the impulsive DIY projects you had worked on during the weekend. Logan had asked you to do your share of the housekeeping and tidy up while he was at work today, and you had completely forgotten and partially didn't care to.

After taking in the state of the messy apartment, he stopped in front of you, towering over you, his eyes raking down your body with something close to disgust, you were still dressed in the t-shirt and pyjama pants you had gone to sleep in. He looked pissed, his face hard and jaw clenched, muscles tense under his flannel shirt. You could feel the tension crackling in the air as you stood there, frozen in place. You knew what was coming—he had that look in his eyes, the one he got when he was pissed off and needed to rage.

"You think you can just sit around and do fuck-all while I'm out there working my ass off to pay the bills?" he snarled, his voice low and venomous.

You flinched at his words, the sting of them hitting harder than you expected. He’d never said it outright like this before. Sure, Logan wasn’t always the warmest, but this—this was different. He looked at you like you were beneath him like you were just a nuisance in his life.

"Well? You got nothing to say for yourself?" he barked, stepping closer, his broad chest almost brushing against you.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as you tried to form words. "I—I'm sorry. I totally forgot—"

"Shut the fuck up," he cut you off sharply, his hand gripping your chin, forcing your face upward to meet his darkened gaze. "I don’t want to hear your bullshit apologies anymore. If you're really sorry, then fucking prove it."

Your heart raced as his words cut through you, the familiar ache between your legs flaring up despite the humiliation that burned your cheeks. You knew where this was going. He wanted to break you down—to remind you of your place beneath him. And even though every part of your mind screamed to push back, your body betrayed you. You craved it.

"On your knees," he ordered, his voice gruff and filled with disdain. "Now."

You hesitated for only a second before you dropped to the floor, your knees hitting the hardwood with a soft thud. You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you as you looked up at him, his cocky smirk infuriating and intoxicating all at once.

"That’s better," Logan growled, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness, savoring the way your eyes followed his every movement. "You like this, don’t you? You like being treated like a piece of shit. Don’t try to pretend otherwise."

You didn’t respond, but your breath hitched as he yanked his pants down just enough to free his already-hard cock. The sight of it made your throat tighten, but you knew what he wanted. He wasn’t going to be gentle—not today. He wanted to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

"Open your mouth," he commanded, his voice dripping with disdain. "Let’s see if you can do something right for once."

You opened your mouth obediently, your heart racing as he stepped forward, gripping your hair roughly with one hand as he guided his cock to your lips. There was no tenderness, no warmth in his touch. This wasn’t about pleasure—it was about power since you weren't listening to him at all lately. 

He pushed into your mouth with a groan, forcing his thick length past your lips and down your throat without giving you time to adjust. You gagged immediately, your throat constricting around him as he hit the back of it, but Logan didn’t stop. He held your head in place, his fingers tangling in your hair as he started to thrust, fucking your mouth like you were nothing more than a toy for him to use.

"Look at you," Logan sneered, his voice hoarse with lust and anger. "Choking on my cock like a fucking slut. Can’t even take it properly, can you?"

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to breathe, your hands gripping his thighs for balance as he continued to thrust into your mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of your gagging filled the room, but Logan didn’t care. In fact, it seemed to spur him on.

"God, you’re pathetic," he growled, pulling out of your mouth just long enough to let you gasp for air before shoving himself back in. "I bet you love this, huh? Getting used like the worthless stay-at-home-whore you are."

You moaned around him, your humiliation mixing with the aching desire between your legs. You hated how much you loved this—how much you needed him to tear you down, to remind you of your place beneath him.

"Fuck, you can’t even speak with my cock in your mouth," Logan grunted, his pace growing faster, more brutal. "But you don’t need to, do you? You’re just a hole for me to fuck."

Your throat burned, your jaw ached, but you didn’t pull away. You wanted to please him, to show him that you could take it, no matter how rough he was. And you knew that the more you gave in, the more he would push.

After what felt like forever, Logan finally pulled back, his cock slick with your spit, leaving you gasping for air, your mouth sore from the abuse. He grabbed you by the hair, yanking you to your feet with a roughness that sent a jolt of heat through your body.

"Turn around," he ordered, his voice low and dangerous. "Bend over the fucking couch."

You scrambled to obey, your legs shaking as you bent over the back of the couch, your hands gripping the cushions for support. You could feel his presence behind you, could hear the rustle of his pants as he yanked them further down.

"Look at you," Logan growled, slapping your ass hard, making you yelp. "So fucking wet already. You’re disgusting. Bet' ya played with your pussy all day on that couch while I was out there making money for us. Pathetic, needy slut. "

You bit your lip, your face flushing with both shame and arousal. He was right—you were soaked from your previous orgasms today, the fabric of your panties sticking to your aching core. You could feel how badly you wanted him, even though his words cut deep.

Logan didn’t waste any time. He yanked your panties down roughly, leaving them around your thighs as he positioned himself behind you. Without warning, he slammed into you, burying his cock deep inside your soaking-wet pussy with a harsh thrust that knocked the air from your lungs.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he started fucking you hard and fast. "This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? Getting fucked like a whore."

You cried out, your body trembling as he pounded into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes again, but you didn’t care. The humiliation, the degradation—it only made the pleasure more intense, more overwhelming.

"Say it," Logan growled, his voice rough and breathless. "Tell me what you are."

"I—I'm your whore," you gasped, your voice shaky and filled with shame.

"Damn right you are," he hissed, slapping your ass again, harder this time. "You’re my fucking slut. Nothing more."

You moaned, the sting of his words and the sharp slap of his hand only pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel your body tightening, the heat building inside of you as Logan continued to fuck you brutally, using you like you were nothing.

"Fuck, you’re so fucking tight," Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips harder as he slammed into you. "You’re gonna come, aren’t you? You’re gonna come from getting treated like the little whore you are."

You nodded frantically, your body teetering on the edge of release. You hated how much you wanted it—how much you needed it.

"Then fucking come," Logan growled, his thrusts growing even rougher, more punishing. "Come all over my cock, you fucking slut."

And with that, you shattered, your body convulsing as your orgasm tore through you, the pleasure so intense it left you trembling. You cried out, your voice muffled by the cushions as Logan continued to fuck you through your release, his cock driving deep inside you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were a shaking, breathless mess.

Finally, with a low, guttural groan, Logan came, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his release deep inside your pussy. He held you in place, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rode out his own orgasm, his breath ragged in your ear.

When he finally pulled out, you collapsed onto the couch, your body exhausted and trembling. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, could still hear the harshness of his breath as he stood behind you.

But even as the shame and humiliation settled in, you couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction.

🏷️:@back2thebasics @spookyfunhottub, @lanassmarty, @hypermarvellove @kbear8863 @squishyfruitloop, @v3rdee @instantpersonawombat, @a-leg-without-fear, @cherrypieyourface

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[v-ternus]

*that* SwissDew video

So ughhhhhhhh, yall saw that right?!?!? Anyways. It made me start thinking. And then my brain did some thinking with @iamthecomet And our combined thinking has now left me with 1.5k words of nasty.

explicit | princess dew | daddy swiss | handjob | forcedfem |dressing room quickie | breeding | idk what else |

Under the cut for your reading pleasure :)

The stage lights barely have a chance to dim before Swiss is herding Dew backstage, hand on his back, planted firmly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Dew snarls as he’s accidentally shoved into the shoulder of an unsuspecting techie. Swiss swings his head back to mumble a half-assed apology, only to keep moving forward. He doesnt dignify the question with a response beyond plastering a shit-eating grin across his face.

The rest of the walk back to the dressing room goes by quickly and Dew is practically thrown in right as he turns the doorknob. He tries to find his balance but his boots catch on a part of the scrunched up carpet and it sends him to the floor. He falls hard, dropping all of his weight onto his knees. He’s sure they’ll be black and blue by the end of the night.

Swiss closes the door behind them and postures himself right in front of Dew. 

“Infront of everyone?” Dew grits through his question, jaw clenched at the disaster that Swiss could’ve caused.

Swiss brings a hand up to cradle Dew’s face and coos as he thumbs across his heated cheeks. “Dont pretend like you didnt like it bug.” Dew has no rebuttal. Because of course he liked it—

He liked the way Swiss’ hand splayed over his hip and waist in an attempt to hold him steady while his other hand gripped his cock. He liked when Swiss dug his fangs into his tense flesh.

He especially liked the way the fans cheered as he was gropped in front of them all.

He’s been hard since then, struggling to play his parts with each second that passed by. He almost missed his cues because he couldnt walk without his guitar rubbing against him.

Dew is pulled out of his head when Swiss drops himself down to his knees, loosely interlacing his legs with Dew’s. His free hands falls to the front of Dew’s uniform and palms at his crotch. Dew looks down and the sight makes him whine. Swiss’ hand covers up so much of his lap. Its as if they both thought the same, cause Dew swears he heard Swiss laugh. 

“Stop teasing bitch,” he tries to sound unamused, aggressive even. But he fails. His voice wavers as Swiss squeezes his throbbing cock particularly harder. 

“But its fun to watch you like this,” Swiss says as he kneads at Dew. They both know he could be meaner, mean enough to leave Dew achingly hard and alone, but thats not what Swiss wants right now.

He palms at Dew for a mere moment longer before he finally starts unlacing his pants. He works the garments down just enough for Dew’s cock to spring up towards his vest, the ruddy tip spreading his slick across the delicate velvet.

Swiss drags a finger along the short length, tracing along the vein that runs on the underside, stopping at the spot right under the head. He makes Dew hiss when he presses against down and watches as a bead of pre wells up at the tip.

“You’re an asshole.” Swiss chuckles again, loving the way Dew squirms and protests under his touch. “I know.”

He gives Dew no time to adjust— he just sends things from zero to a hundred. The teasing and feather light touches turn into a warm hand completely wrapping around his cock and slowly stroking from root to tip. The pleasure is a relief, and he makes sure to share his enjoyment. Breathy moans freely fall from his lips and they sound like music to Swiss' ears.

“You sound so pretty Dew.” Swiss sounds like he means every word.

“Fuck you.”

Swiss tightens his grip before tutting his disappointment. His eyes cast over Dew with a stern, cold look on his face. “That’s a bit rude isnt it?” Dew tries to ignore the game Swiss is playing at.

“But I think I'm feeling really generous right now princess,” 

“Dont call me that.” Anything but that, Dew thinks.

Swiss brings his free hand up to thumb at the base of one of Dew’s horns. Its nice, nice enough that a low purr rumbles through him. But whatever softness he was basking in goes up in flames as Swiss uses said horn to wrench his head back. His neck bends at an unnatural angle and he feels exposed. 

“Shh baby, Daddy knows what’s best, doesnt he?” Swiss’ voice drips thick, laced with poison that floods Dew’s bloodstream.

Swiss leans forward to rest his forehead against Dew’s.

A sinister smile creeps over Swiss’ face as he moves his grip to wrap around Dew’s dick and balls. Much to Dew's displeasure, he squeezes. Really squeezes. And hell it fucking hurts. Tears threaten to fall from the corners of Dew's eyes. He winces and tries to pull himself backwards, away from the pain. But all it does is tug against his already tender groin. 

“Here’s how this is going to work baby,” Dew breathes through the pain and focuses on the deep voice weaving into his hazy mind. He listens to the sounds of sin and depravity and it reminds him of all of their other nights spent like this– Swiss just taking him apart, putting him through the thick of it until he has proper streaks of tears working down his chiseled features. 

“You get to cum whenever you’re ready,” Dew’s breath hitches, sensing a trap. There’s gotta be a catch to this. Dew manages to make eye contact and he’s surprised by what stares back at him. The golden eyes trained on him have suddenly gone soft, donning a warmer, less threatening gaze. Had it been any other night, it would be endearing, but tonight, its nothing better than a threat.

“You just gotta fuck this cute little clit into my fist, how’s that sound Princess?” 

There it is.

Dew nods mindlessly. Says anything and agrees to it all, just to get the crushing grip away from his jewels.

“Yeah… whatever. Fuck, just let go.” Having finally gotten his answer, Swiss’ hand withdraws and returns with a kinder touch. This time, the hand moves to cup Dew’s balls. He rolls them gently, tugs at them just enough to make Dew groan before backing off again. 

“Are you ready princess?” There’s that fucking word again. Swiss doesn't wait for a response, he just sits up, and holds his fist right over Dew’s achingly red dick. Dew takes what's offered and rocks his hips up. The sound he lets out is embarrassing at best— a high, feminine moan that shoots from Swiss’ ears, straight down to his cock. He's now pressed up tight against the seam in his underwear.

Dew keeps rocking, chasing his release so that this can all just be over. The filthy wet noises he's making between them fill the otherwise hushed room.

He can't stop himself from listening to Swiss whisper how pretty he gets like this, or how he cant wait to get back to the hotel so he can dress him up in that lingerie set Aether had bought.

Swiss feels Dew's cock kick at the mere mention of Aether, he files that away for a later date.

“You want me to breed you nice and good after this Dewy? I’ll fill you with my kits, you’d be so full.”

“Shut up,” Dew groans. “Shut up and just let me finish.” His eyes screw up tight and he tries to think of anything else besides Swiss’ words, but it's a futile attempt. The words flash across his mind and echo in his ears. 

Swiss can feel how close he is, he can feel each twitch of Dew’s cock when his thrusts press him into Swiss’ hand just right. Dew starts to lose his pace, thrusts quickly becoming uncoordinated ad his breathing becomes more and more ragged.

Swiss watches his quickly pitiful moves and decides to help him out. He starts to jerk him off, doing his best to match the pace of his hips so that his fist bottoms out at the top of his thrusts.

“Are you close my love?” Swiss presses his lips against the side of his mate's face, breathes in his scent, warm and burnt, and presses a kiss to his temple. He hears a pleased hum and knows that this is his chance.

"Whenever you're ready Dewy." Dew tries to speak. He tries to find the words-- any words-- that could describe this moment. But his brain just wont seem to work. All he can do is pant and feel each decadent, wet glide of Swiss' hand over the swollen head of his cock.

"Close. -m close,"

“Go ahead and squirt all over daddy’s hand,” Swiss surprises even himself with how he was able to say the words.

Something inside Dew unravels. He surges forward, digs his claws into Swiss’ sides as he cums. They watch as milky ropes of his spend stripe over Swiss' hand.

Swiss works him through his orgasm, lightly stroking until his cock is drained of all he has to give. He only stops when Dew twitches from overstimulation.

Some of his cum drips down to the floor and Swiss groans in disappointment. There's always next time.

The multi ghoul leans forward and crashes his lips into Dew's. The kiss is lazy and there's no sense of urgency to go along with it. They just kneel in the middle of the room, and lap at whatever parts they can reach.

Swiss pulls back and catches an eyeful of Dew’s puffy red lips and the blissed out look across his face.

“You were so good for me princess.”

Dew feels his cock make a feeble attempt at filling out again– princess.

[linorachas]

double the trouble (triple the fun) | seo changbin & han jisung

ᦈ pairing — changbin x reader x jisung, changbin x jisung ᦈ genre — smut ᦈ word count — 3.7k ᦈ tags— afab reader, best friends with benefits, dirty talk, exhibitionism, spitroasting, slight choking ᦈ notes — i was going to make chan the ex because apparently i cant live without mentioning chan but i was like omg i cant do that…. So headcanon that chan is the next boyfriend who treats u right. binsung are still Protective and Suspicious until one day chan meekly suggests a foursome and BAM theyre 100% convinced that hes The One

read on ao3 :3

“Jaesuk cheated on me.”

Music stops. A loud, obnoxious, automated voice announces Game over! just as Jisung drops his controller. Beside him, Changbin sets his phone down slowly.

“What?”

You look up from where you were picking vegetables out of your meal, blinking rapidly. “Um. Jaesuk cheated on me?”

“That lanky, ugly, bug-eyed son of a bitch cheated on you? On you?” 

Jisung’s voice gets louder with each word as he slowly rises from his seated position on the floor. His face was pinched, and for a second, he looked as if he was genuinely angry. Your lips twitch.

“Ugly? Didn’t you say he was cute when I first showed you his picture?”

Jisung scoffs. “I was lying out my ass, Y/N. What do you mean, he cheated on you?”

You sigh at that, setting down your fork. You had hoped the casual mention of your ex would explain why you haven't been with him for weeks, a concern Jisung himself raised a few days ago. You also knew, however, that your best friends were never the ones to let anything slip by so easily, especially when it came to you. So this was— as much as you hoped it wouldn’t be— expected.

“A few weeks ago, we had a fight over something stupid and had a pretty bad argument about it. I went over to his place to work things out because I felt bad that I’ve been giving him the silent treatment. Caught him pants down with another girl in the hallway. According to his neighbor, that wasn’t the only girl he’s fucked out in the open.”

You relay the story lazily, all while looking for the packet of soy sauce you had seen Changbin toss away earlier. You don’t notice Jisung and Changbin’s faces get even more furious with every word.

Changbin, who had been quiet the entire time, finally speaks up. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Huh?” You look up, soy sauce packet between your teeth. “Whaft? ”

Your eyes widen when Changbin actually gets up and snatches his car keys on the table, then heads for the door where his shoes were lined up. You panic even more when he actually laces up his shoes, and it’s only then that it hits you.

He was actually angry. Like Angry angry.

“Jisung, stop hi-“ You start, panicked face turning towards Jisung, but you stumble back a step when you notice he was fuming too.

His jaw was clenched, eyes furious as he glared holes somewhere on the floor. He paid no attention to Changbin, who was actually turning the knob on the front door now and holy shit-

“I can’t bail you out of jail!” 

You exclaim as you rush over, pressing your body between Changbin and the door. You let out a sigh of relief when it slams shut behind you, but Changbin doesn’t seem too happy about it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, voice clipped. “Move.”

“No, what the hell- Bin, are you serious?” You huff, placing a hand on Changbin’s cheek. 

His narrowed eyes avoid yours. You knew that Changbin never wanted you to see him when he was angry, and the fact that he didn’t want to make eye contact with you right now proved to you how serious the situation actually was. He might actually kill Jaesuk.

“Let him be.” Jisung cuts in. He was still frowning, but his eyes cooly met yours as he dropped down on the couch, leaning back to rest his arm on the backside. “I’ll bail him out.”

You stare. Jisung stares back, undeterred. 

It’s tense in the room.

After a beat, you purse your lips. “You couldn’t even afford rent last month.”

Jisung lets out a scoff as he turns away, but you snort internally when you see his slowly reddening ears. Changbin’s lips are quirked as he turns to look at Jisung too, but he immediately schools his expression back into indifference when you face him. You raise an eyebrow in challenge.

“And you’re not killing anyone. Between us three, I’m the one who would most likely commit a murder. Not you two. So go sit back down and-” you grunt as you push Changbin back with both hands to his chest— which felt like a rock solid wall, mind you—  but you falter when he doesn’t even move an inch.

Hands gently clasp your wrists.

“He hurt you.”

You freeze. Slowly looking up, you find Changbin gazing down at you. He looked almost… upset now, and you coo.

“Oh no, Bin, he didn’t-”

“Y/N, you were still in a relationship when he got his small dick wet and not to mention how shitty he’s been treating you this past month! How could h-”

“Changbin.” You hiss, and he immediately shuts up. You soften when you see his eyebrows furrow, clearly upset about the situation. You take his hands in yours and squeeze. 

“I would have had to care about him enough for him to hurt me. I’m not hurt, Bin, I promise. I’m just— pissed.” You swallow, shifting nervously on your feet. Jisung gets up then, sidling up next to Changbin. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you flash him a grateful smile. “I’m angry at myself for wasting so much time on the asshole. I’m angry at him for stringing me along. I’m angry that I spent so much time with him when I could have spent it on better people like—” you sniffle, “—like you guys.”

“I’m not hurt,” you reassure them once again, frowning. “If I have the chance to punch him in the face I’d gladly take it, but most of all, I’m just- I just want to move on.”

Jisung makes a noise at the back of his throat, and you’re not even given a warning when he goes behind you to pull you into a backhug, face nuzzling into your hair. You giggle when he presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

Changbin pulls your attention back to him with two fingers under your chin. 

“Then let's do it. Jisung and I will hold him down and you can punch him all you like.”

You laugh, and at that, Changbin finally softens. 

“I’m being serious.” He still says, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. You grin.

“I know you are. But that’s assault, and I am not stooping that low. Especially not with you guys. The thought of giving him more attention just pisses me off even more. I want to forget about him, okay? Pretend he never existed in my life, and that I never met him. Let’s just— let him be. Karma will get to him.”

Jisung huffs. “Not even a little kick to the balls would help?”

You snort. “Not even a little kick to the balls, Sungie. But you know what would help?”

They both perk up. 

You smile, slow and mischievous as you tug Changbin closer. “A club.”

Two simultaneous groans. 

You laugh. “Oh, come on! I’m brokenhearted, you have to adhere to my requests! Oh help, I need to be cured right now!”

Changbin huffs out a laugh, somewhere between exasperated and fond. You giggle, letting go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck, Jisung still clinging at your waist.

“Come on, Binnie, pleaaaase? Just a few dances to get my mind off it. I won’t even drink, you guys can drink all you want, I’ll get us all home safe, please please please- ”

“Okay, alright, christ-” Changbin groans, but he’s grinning as he brushes the hair away from your face. “None of us are drinking. We’ll just dance and have fun.” 

“Dance and have fun. Yes. Uh huh. Thank you.” You smack a long kiss to Changbin’s cheek before you turn to face Jisung, who was pouting. 

You put your arms around his shoulder. “You don’t want to go to the club with us?”

“There’s a tournament,” Jisung starts, eyes flickering towards the console, but he falters when he sees you blinking up at him. “I…”

Jisung’s eyes quickly dart behind you to where Changbin was, but unbeknownst to you, Changbin already had both hands up in surrender, mouthing I can’t help you. I’m weak.

“You…?”

So Jisung shuts his mouth with a smile, hands squeezing your waist. “That I can join next week. Alright, to the club! Come on, Y/N. Wanna pick what I should wear?”

You grin in triumph, letting Jisung pull you to his bedroom as Changbin follows suit with a defeated smile on his face. 

The night was still young. You weren’t going to let Jaesuk ruin the mood, and a night of dancing could fix that. 

Luckily for you, Changbin and Jisung were more than willing to help.

You don’t know how it happens, but an hour later finds you squeezed between Changbin and Jisung.

You’re not drunk. You’re barely even tipsy, having only just drank one beer. But the heat inside the club was affecting you. You were safe, content and happy between your best friends, what more could you ask for?

It’s reminiscent of your position by the door earlier, but this time it’s a lot less wholesome and a lot more— ah.

“Jisung,” You gasp when you feel another mark sucked on your neck, teeth nibbling one of your most sensitive spots. Shivers wrack your body. “Jesus. Are you teething?”

Changbin snorts at that, but his eyes are busy watching Jisung. “He’s not teething. He’s staking a claim.”

You raise a brow, grinding back into Jisung’s clothed cock at the words. Jisung grunts in your ear. “Oh? Letting everybody in the club know that I’m yours?”

You squeak when you’re suddenly spun around, stumbling back into Changbin’s hard chest. He catches you easily though, one of his warm hands sliding up your top and another sliding down to your hips. You shiver again when his nails scratch against your tummy.

Jisung, who was now in front of you, stalks closer, and your breath hitches when he stops just an inch away from your lips.

With a smirk, he says, “that you’re ours.”

And just as Jisung crashes his lips onto yours, another set of lips starts leaving wet, heated kisses on your neck. It trails higher, up to your cheek, to your jaw, and all the way to your ear.

There, Changbin whispers, confident and smug. “And we’re taking you home tonight.”

It’s fleeting, the brush of a hand between your thighs, but it’s enough to shock your eager body and make you moan Changbin’s name into Jisung’s mouth. 

“Wrong,” Jisung whispers after he sucks on your bottom lip, letting it go with a teasing bite. “That was me. Guess we’re gonna have a little game then, huh?”

“No more games.” You whine, pressing back into Changbin, who was sucking in sharp breaths as he ground against your ass. “Don’t care whose it is. I want you both, and I want you now. Please.”

Jisung huffs at the lack of attention, pressing his own clothed cock against the front of your thigh as well, and just the feeling of being sandwiched between the two has your body tingling all the way to your fingertips. 

You’re just about to pull Jisung into another messy kiss when Changbin stops the both of you by a hand to your neck, pulling you towards him gently. 

You gulp at the feeling of his fingers around your throat, and Changbin’s eyes distractedly watch your slick mouth, but he still manages to get out, “Home. Let’s get you home, and we’ll give you what you want. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You croak out, still frozen at the feel of Changbin’s hand around your neck. Changbin seems to have noticed this, and his eyes darken when you moan at a slight squeeze that he does.

Jisung, already impatient, tugs you out of Changbin’s grasp with a possessive hand to your waist. 

“Later.” He promises both of you, and you and Changbin both straighten up. “Home, now.”

You nod, blinking out of your daze, but your body still reacts when Changbin slides a hand up your back as he and Jisung lead you to the exit. They flank you on both sides, side-eyeing anyone who so much as looks at you. 

It’s a blur on the way back to Changbin and Jisung’s apartment, but you were hyper aware of where their hands were. 

Changbin had wrapped an arm around your waist as soon as you had slid into the middle seat, and soon enough his fingers were trailing goosebump-inducing patterns under your shirt again. At one point he reaches the edge of your bra, and you bite your lip when he teasingly kneads under it. You send him a sharp look, gesturing to the driver. 

All Changbin does is smirk in return.

Jisung, on the other hand, was gazing out the window and enjoying the scenery that you know he’s seen a million times, but his hand was busy sliding between your thighs. You jolt every time he gets a little too close to where you needed him most, and you glare when he quickly pulls his hand away with a knowing grin. He then lets his fingers scratch the inside of your inner thigh, and it gets so ticklish and hard to hold back the sounds that you have to stop him with a hand to his wrist and a pointed look. 

Jisung merely takes your hand off, and continues.

You squirm in the backseat, getting wetter with each caress the two made. You don’t make a sound, but your heavy breathing was probably obvious at one point, because you meet eyes with the driver in the rearview mirror, and he looked concerned. You flush red and try to hide your face by burying it against Changbin’s shoulder.

A coo. “You alright? Drank too much?”

“Shut up,” You hiss, but end up snapping your mouth shut when Changbin quickly but surely fondles one of your breasts through your bra. He slides a thumb under the cup to teasingly flick your nipple, then slides his hand back down to your waist, like nothing had happened. 

“Bin-” you whine in his shoulder, and he chuckles. 

“Almost there, baby. Just a few more minutes.”

And then, in a split second, fingers rub at your clothed pussy.

Your gasp quickly turns into a moan, which Changbin covers up by cooing louder and pressing your face against his neck. 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Changbin soothes, “we’re almost home. I know your head hurts, but you can puke there.”

“Ah,” The driver speaks up, seemingly understanding now. “Please don’t get vomit in my car, I can pull over if-”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, thank you, she’s just-”

As Changbin converses with the driver, Jisung continues his relentless rubbing. He finds your clit easily, and you moan soundlessly against Changbin’s neck as your hips buck. Jisung holds your hips down with his other hand.

“You’re alright,” Changbin mutters down at you, cupping your cheek tenderly, but out of the driver’s sight, he’s sliding his thumb between your parted lips, pad pressing down on your tongue. “You’re doing so well.”

You were so wet now, and you knew Jisung could feel it too, considering he kept brushing over the wet spot that has seeped into your panties. You squirm, hoping to get him back to your clit, but you freeze when his fingers slide under your underwear and fuck-

“Jisung-” you start, moaning muffled against Changbin’s thumb, but Changbin cuts you off. 

“-is right there. Don’t worry, he’s safe. He’s coming with us.” 

“I’m right here, Y/N.” Jisung pipes in casually, like he wasn’t sliding the pads of his fingers up and down your labia, teasingly circling your clit and dipping the tips of his two fingers in your hole. “Are you hungry? Cause I am.”

You shake in Changbin’s arms. He laughs.

You’re just about to cum when the car suddenly stops, and a keen bubbles out your throat when Jisung pulls his fingers away, upset at having your orgasm be taken away from you. You’re in a daze as Changbin helps you out of the car, leaving Jisung to pay. You hoped he left a good tip.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to stumble inside the boys’ apartment, tearing at each other's clothes as you go inside the nearest bedroom. 

Jisung makes quick work of opening you up as you leant back against Changbin’s chest, his fingers stretching your walls. You moan against Changbin’s lips, unsure whether to pull away from the fast thrusting of Jisung’s fingers or push into Changbin’s hands which were kneading your breasts.

“Come here, baby.” Jisung finally pulls his fingers out, kneeling in the middle of the bed as he holds his cock in his hand.

You crawl toward him, mouth opening automatically. Jisung groans, slapping his drooling cockhead on your outstretched tongue. 

“That’s it, let me see you take my cock in your pretty little mouth. That’s a good little slut…”

Jisung slowly guides his cock into your waiting mouth at the same time Changbin lines himself up behind you, and you gasp when the head pushes inside.

You pull of Jisung’s cock and gasp. “You’re so big, Bin- wait-”

You and Changbin both groan as you convulse around him. Changbin doesn’t move, letting you adjust to his massive size. Jisung, however, was too impatient. He drags your mouth back onto his dick with a grunt.

“Shit. Jaesuk missed out on this?” Changbin mutters mostly to himself once he starts fucking into you, each thrust pushing you forward onto Jisung’s cock.

“Fucking loser,” Jisung says in reply, gathering your hair in his hands he thrusts in and out of your slick mouth too. “Doesn’t know what he let go.”

You flush at both their words and actions, pleasure coursing through your body on both ends. You let Jisung fuck your mouth, too overwhelmed to keep bobbing your head with how good Changbin was fucking you. 

Jisung must have been more worked up than you thought, because he suddenly pulls away. You let out a displeased whine, wanting him back in your mouth, but he just tuts as he holds you up by the hair.

“Not yet. Be good for hyung, alright?”

At the words, Changbin stops, flips you over, and immediately starts fucking you again. He wraps your legs around his waist, and your blink in surprise when his hand slides up to wrap around your throat.

“Changbin,” You choke out a gasp, fingers clawing at Changbin’s wrist as he squeezes your throat. “Oh, fuck- fuck-”

His pace is relentless; your hips were hanging mid-air from how much he’s lifted you, and you were basically perched on his thighs. You almost black out when he squeezes your throat once, feeling lightheaded from the cock pounding into you and the lack of air.

Behind you, Jisung shudders at the sight.

You reach for him weakly, wanting to get a hand on him. He obliges almost immediately, kneeling beside your head as he strokes his cock to your gasps and Changbin’s grunts. You manage to wrap a clumsy wrap around him, and though it was almost useless, Jisung still moans loud.

“You’re so- fucking- wet.” Changbin gasps, fingers tightening from where it was wrapped around your ankle. “Fuck, baby, Jisung could slip in here with how wet you are.”

Changbin and Jisung don’t miss the way you jerk at that, getting even tighter at the thought. You feel the tips of your ears burn, but Changbin just smirks. “Oh? You like that?”

You don’t expect to his slide down after that, finger trailing over your entrance where his cock was still fucking in and out of you. It only takes a little push, and his finger slips inside.

“Are you fucking crazy-” You hiss, but there’s no denying the way you clench around Changbin’s cock and finger. You moan even louder when he starts moving it along with his cock, feeling like you’re about to lose your mind.

“Fuck,” Changbin and Jisung both exhale, mesmerized. 

Jisung was so close that every time he thrust, his cock would bump against your cheek and sometimes your lips. You move your head close so his cock slides against your lips, and Jisung almost doubles over.

“Hyung,” Jisung whines suddenly, and you blink, confused, but then Changbin pulls Jisung into a kiss and your world shakes.

You and Jisung moan at the same time, Jisung’s cock twitching in your hand. He’s gotten so wet that you hear a squelch every time he bucks into your hand.

Jisung melts in Changbin’s hold, something you understand all too well. Out of the three of you, Changbin was the best kisser. He had a way of pulling you into a kiss so hypnotizing it leaves you breathless and boneless at the same time. 

The sight of your two best friends gasping into each other's mouths was enough to push you to the edge. You couldn’t even warn them as you finally cum, toes curling as you convulse around Changbin’s cock.

Jisung follows soon after, pulling away from Changbin’s lips just to hide his face in Changbin’s neck, shuddering as he cums. He sprays directly into your mouth, but his hips stutter, so some of his cum gets onto your cheek and neck.

Changbin, with one arm around Jisung’s waist, pulls his cock and finger out of you with a groan and starts jerking himself off. He keeps your legs spread, and he watches with lidded eyes as your hole spasms around nothing. 

With Jisung’s cock in your hand, his cum on your face, and Jisung’s face in his neck, Changbin finally cums on your stomach with a shuddering breath.

The three of you collapse on the bed soon after, sweaty and sticky. You were so content to just bask in the silence and heavy breathing, but you just had to ask.

“Since when-” You sit up and gesture to Changbin and Jisung, but you don’t finish your sentence. 

Jisung flushes up to the tips of his ears and hides his face in the pillow. Changbin laughs into your shoulder.

“Since now. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Wah,” you exhale and lie back down on the bed, letting Changbin and Jisung cuddle up to you on either side. “Thank fucking god Jaesuk cheated on me then.”

“Yah-”

“Don’t say that! I’m still going to kill him.”

You squeak when Changbin pinches your waist, but you still feel their smiles on your skin. You giggle.

Getting fucked by your best friends definitely helped you get over your stupid ex.

[augustvandyne]

request:

They go to a dodgers game together then at the end when they’re leaving a fight breaks out n reader gets hit

i accidentally posted it while trying to save it into my drafts, so i deleted the request. anyway, here it is. i love this idea because protective angela!! protective angela on top 💗🙏🏼 also i know little to nothing about baseball so please forgive

fight

The game was crazy, to say the least.

At one point you and Angela were standing up and jumping up and down over the fact that the Dodgers were winning, and then they just weren’t.

So now the two of you were sitting down, feet up, and chewing on some stale popcorn you’d picked up on your way to your seats.

Angela was making sarcastic remarks about how well they were playing today.

This was only one of their first games of the season, but really, what was the purpose of all the preseason if they were just going to perform like this?

“Catch the damn ball,” Angela shouts as the ball is dropped for the umpteenth time today. “Oh my.”

“I’m gonna need a drink after this one,” You hold a hand over yours eyes.

“A strong one,” Angela agrees.

“I can’t even watch anymore,” You turn your head to look at your beautiful girlfriend.

“It’s almost over,” Angela lays her head back to put a hand-full of popcorn in her mouth. “And then we can do whatever we want the rest of the day.”

“Good,” You laugh. “I’m gonna need something to take my mind off this shit show.”

“I’m very good at that,” Angela turns her head towards you, smirking.

“Oh, yeah, are you?” You lean in to kiss her lips, and she kisses back. “You look gorgeous today, you know?”

“Oh, so I don’t any other day?” Angela fakes hurt.

You squint, making Angela chuckle a bit.

“Not what I meant,” You push her jokingly.

“And what did you mean?”

“That you look gorgeous,” You shrug. “I like your natural hair.”

“Now I’m gonna start straightening it,” Angela shakes her head, trying to bite back a smile.

“Okay,” You shrug. “I like you every way. Hair up, down, straight, curled, natural. I love all of you.”

“I love every part of you, too,” Angela puts her head back, looking at you sweetly.

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You put a hand on your chest.

“Shut up,” Angela rolls her eyes.

The moment between the two of you stops as two men standing in front of you begin to get into it.

“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Angela pushes the fingertips of her pointer finger and thumb into her eyes. “We can’t have just one nice day without having to be cops?”

“I mean, we could just leave.”

“Yeah, lets. Before we become accessories to a crime,” Angela stands, grabbing her leather jacket and any trash she had.

You do the same, and step out into the steps so you could leave.

You go down a step when one of the men accidentally punches you across the face.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” You put your hand on your face where the man hit you, your eye watering from the pain.

You’d think after years of being a cop, you’d be used to the feeling of being punch in the face, but you weren’t.

“I— It’s fine,” You flex your jaw, trying to ease the pain, but it just makes it worse.

“Like hell it is,” Angela’s face only holds pure anger. “You never hit a woman.”

“It was an accident—“

Angela holds her finger up, “Let alone a cop.”

“Shit, I—“

“Save it,” Angela crosses her arms, the trash long forgotten on the floor of the bleachers. “You’ll be hearing from our lawyer.”

“Ange—“ You try to calm her, but she isn’t having any of it.

“No. He’s lucky I don’t arrest him right now,” Angela clenches her jaw.

“Baby,” You shake your head.

Angela’s eyes soften as she takes the step towards you. She tries to remove your hand from your face, but you resist.

“Let me see,” She demanded. “Come on.”

When she removes your hand, she sees that there’s a bruise getting ready to form, and she looks back at the man angrier than she was a second ago.

Angela places a kiss on the sore spot.

“Ah, so much better,” You wipe the stray tear.

“Good,” She caresses the spot, trying to ease your pain for you. “How bad does it hurt?”

“An 8,” You wince when she applies the tiniest bit of pressure.

“I’m sorry,” Angela looks at you with sympathy. She wants nothing more than to take that guy to the ground, but she knows right place, right time. And that’s definitely not here in front of all these people who were already staring.

“I’m not joking,” Angela gives the man a stern look. “We’ll be seeing you.”

“Come on,” Angela lightly grabs your arm. “Let’s go get you some ice.”

Later that night, you’d taken some Tylenol for the pain, and you were still holding an ice pack to your face.

Angela’s orders!

She had you lying across her chest, the two of you covered in a blanket.

Every thirty minutes or so, she made you get up so she could see your bruise, and she’d apply a kiss like she had at the stadium.

She was worried about a concussion, but you promised her that you knew the day, time, and president. As well as the fact that the only pain you had was in your cheek.

“I can’t believe that happened,” She tilts her head, examining your cheek again.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Angela shakes her head. “You’re in pain, I feel so bad.”

“I promise it’s not your fault, Ange,” You run your fingers through her hair, holding it back from her face.

You place a kiss on her head, forehead, nose, and then finally her lips.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Angela presses her lips together, trying to suppress the worry growing in her stomach.

“Yes,” You kiss her again. “I promise. The pain and the bruise will be gone soon enough.”

“Good.”

“Especially if you keep kissing it,” You smile, tapping a finger to the tender spot, signaling her to give you a kiss there again.

Angela chuckles, “You’re cute.”

“Thank you,” You beam as she pulls your towards her to give you a kiss there.

“My turn,” You pepper kisses all over her face until she’s begging you to stop. “Feel better?”

“I should be asking you that,” Angela’s smile falters again, but grows once more when you give her a look. “I feel much better. Thank you.”

You lay back down, a mixture of the Tylenol, trashy television, and the feeling of Angela’s fingers in your hair causing you to pass out for the rest of the night.

[diazheartsbuckley]

Hii for the writers game 📸 📸 📸 📸 and 📄📄📄📄

Hi anon, sorry that I’ve taken so long to respond. Life has been…interesting to say the least 😅

Find everything 📸 here and prev snippet of 📄 here

- 📸

“So I uh-…” Eddie saunters up to Buckley as he’s scrubbing his hands over the sink, the blood spattering down the sides of the stainless steel. Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and chews on his lips. He looks at the blood on Buckley’s clothes and considers himself lucky that once the war correspondent wasn’t in his way. “I wanted to say thank you”

Buck stops his determined scrubbing, the realization of the moment slowly creeping up on him and into his consciousness. He has helped people in war zones before, he has had blood on his hands before yet this time, it feels much heavier. It feels different. All because of staff sergeant Eddie Diaz. “You don’t have to thank me, sergeant. I was just happy to help out. But…He takes a few paper towels and daps his hands dry. “You endangered your entire crew out there. I won’t tell anyone but you should talk to someone because next time, next time we might not be this lucky”

A heavy tension settles at the base of Eddie’s skull and he nods slightly, clearing his throat and he can feel every emotion inside of him welling up, breaking the surface and the walls that he built around himself since he and Shannon got divorced. “I-…I know. I fucked up. I just..” Eddie’s eyes drops to his feet, noticing the grout in the dark tiled floor. “I don’t know what happened out there. I froze. I could see and hear everything but I couldn’t-… Fuck” he clears his throat and grips onto the sides of the sink. “I saw them. All I could see were the friends that I lost and I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t-…” He inhales sharply.

“I couldn’t do anything. Everything I had and it still wasn’t enough”

- 📄

“What the fuck is this?” Eddie pushes the papers directly into Buck’s firm chest the second that he opens the door. They had only seen each other twice since Buck came to LA. And this was the second time. “Divorce?!” Eddie’s voice immediately grows louder, feeling the unsettling feeling of anger and frustration rising in his chest.

“Eddie” Buck’s voice almost sounds like it’s full of pity but the shame shines through on his face and he looks like a child who just broke their mothers favorite vase because he was playing too roughly. “The neighbors can hear you”

“I don’t give a shit, Buck” Eddie pushes past his husband, their shoulders knocking harshly together as he does and Buck loses his balance for a moment. “I got served divorce papers. At my workplace. What the hell is going on?”

“Oh” A pained expression spreads across Buck’s face. “I didn’t know that you’d be getting them at work. I’m sorry”

“That’s the part you’re sorry about? That I got them at work? Not the part where you initiated a divorce process without even talking to me? What happened to the part of our vows that said for better or for worse, Buck?” Eddie turns on his heels and he so desperately wants to stay angry but Buck is standing there, beautiful as the day that Eddie first laid eyes on him. As the day that he asked him to be his boyfriend. As the day that he said yes to marrying him. As the day that they said ‘I do’ in front of everyone they love.

“This is the worse, Buck!” Eddie somehow manages to snap out of it. “When did the fight of us come to an end?!”

“What else was I supposed to do? I just want you to be happy!” Buck retorts, jaw slightly clenched.

“Without you?”

Buck hesitates for a moment. “Yes, Eds. Without me”

Make me write ✍️

[mushroompollution]

Leo's stomach sinks when he sees that question mark. Umprompted asks rarely ever end well. Still, he can't help but open the notification, as if possessed by some higher power. The strange request stares at him from the screen, two words with no other explanation.

He doesn't realize he's responded until the answer shows up on his dashboard. And by then, it's too late. That little notification flag pops up again, and by the time he thinks, i shouldn't open this one, he's already made another unwanted confession.

At least the admissions are harmless, even as a third appears. Well. That one's embarrassing. His gaze flickers up from the screen to Elliot, sitting at his desk across the bedroom, summarizing the day in his journal as he does every evening. When Leo looks back down at his phone, there's another confession on his dashboard.

Leo sets his jaw. Grinds his teeth and frowns. Goes to close the app, only to answer another.

He feels one of those ghosts hum in curious amusement.

"What?"

The servant looks up to see Elliot turned around in his chair, a quizzical look on his pretty face. "What did you just say?"

Leo's stomach drops.

Did he say something?

Did he say that out loud?

"just talking to myself," he chuckles dismissively, but his voice sticks in his throat.

"About marriage?!"

shit.

"yeah," Leo tries to shrug it off.

"Why????" Elliot demands.

"because i love you. and i want to spend my life with you. and i'd probably destroy this whole world if you weren't in it."

shit.

That's not what he meant to say. But as badly as he wants, Leo can't put those words back in his mouth.

There's a long pause as Elliot stares at him, wearing a dumbfounded look and a bright red blush. "Kind of a weird thing to say, but uh," finally his expression softens. "I love you too, you weirdo," he says gently. The warmth in his tone makes Leo's face burn. "Give me like two minutes and we can go to bed, okay?"

Leo nods without speaking another word, afraid of what might come out instead. Okay. Maybe that hadn't gone so terribly, though it wasn't the way he'd really wanted to say those words for the first time.

But still, this is bad.

It was already bad, but this is so much worse.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Leo glances down at his phone without thinking. This time, he hears the words leave his mouth.

"Ernest spit on me and called me trash."

It isn't quite as wordy as what he's typed, but it's just as damning. Leo freezes, his blood run cold. He doesn't look up, but he can feel Elliot's intense stare on him.

"Hold on. Ernest did what?" he asks, voice slow and careful, but undeniably raised. "What the fuck?"

Leo shakes his head. He clutches his phone tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. "no, i don't know why i said that," he says.

Except, those aren't the words that leave his lips.

"i really wanted to break his nose."

"What the fuck?!" Elliot repeats, standing abruptly from his desk.

Leo stands just as quickly from his place on the floor. "i'm going to bed," he says curtly as he marches for their connecting door. But Elliot follows right on his heel.

"Hey, no. If my brother did something to you, I want to know about it-- HEY!!! LEO!!!!!"

The nobleman's words are cut short as the heavy, wooden door slams in his face. There's a small thud as Leo leans heavily against it from the other side.

He's shaking, clutching his phone to his chest. It's locked now. If he doesn't look, it's fine. But the device vibrates in his hands, and he just can't help but look.

Another confession spills from both his lips and fingertips.

"Leo, what the fuck is going on??" Elliot calls from the other side of the solid, wooden door.

"go away!!!" Leo screams. But once again, his words come out all wrong, and his blood runs cold in horror as he realizes what he's just confessed. But he can't stop, either. His fingers move on their own as another ask comes through, and the words spill from his lips as he types. After another, he screams, throwing his phone straight down against the hardwood floor.

But that isn't enough.

He turns sharply, shoving everything from the surface of his small desk onto the floor with a crash. The chair falls victim next as he easily sends it smashing against the wall.

Elliot bursts into the small bedroom just as Leo moves to try and overturn his wardrobe. "Leo, what the fuck. CALM. DOWN!!!!!" he demands, grabbing his servant by both wrists.

Leo pants like a wild animal in his grip, looking up through his bangs with wide, starry eyes. Then he yanks his wrists away. "let me go! just GO AWAY!!!!!!!!" he screams.

"Not if you're going to tear the fucking mansion apart like the Tasmanian fucking devil!!!!!" Elliot reaches for him again, only to be shoved back violently by two hands on his chest.

"there's something wrong with me!!!!!" Leo screams.

"Obviously!!!!!" Elliot shouts back. "You're flying off the fucking handle, and you won't even tell me what's going on!!!!"

"i don't know what's going on, okay?!?!" He doesn't mean to take it out on his friend. But in his rage, Leo grabs a pillow and hurls it at the nobleman. "i can't stop just-- admitting things!!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't keep so many secrets in the first place then," Elliot snaps, only to take another pillow to the face. He growls, hands balling into fists. "Knock that off!!!!"

"i'm scared, okay!?!"

That stops Elliot dead in his tracks as he marches up to his servant, ready to escalate their fight.

Leo shoves his hands beneath his glasses, covering his eyes and his expression. "i know that it wasn't a nightmare when those kids wandered into the crater five years ago," his voice comes out choked, half sobbing.

"What...."

Elliot's breathless, confused tone makes Leo's heart ache.

Elliot's own chest hurts, too.

"those kids died, Elliot."

The nobleman shakes his head shallowly in disbelief. "N-no. Pandora brought them back safe and sound. After I slipped--"

"you didn't hit you head, you were attacked by a Chain."

Elliot's stomach twists sharply. "No..." he mutters, his voice distant. "That's not. What happened..."

"i'm sorry. i'm really sorry, Elliot," Leo sobs, tears flowing freely now. "i didn't want to lose you. and then you and your father and everyone at the orphanage said it didn't happen, so i let myself believe it didn't. but then more kids started dying and--"

"That's not true!!!" Elliot cuts him off with a shout.

Leo drops his hands from his face in surprise to find Elliot grabbing his head, teeth grit tight in agony as he drops to his knees. The servant gasps, rushing forward to his master's side, only to be knocked back across the tiny bedroom.

Not by Elliot.

But something else--

Leo's back hits the wardrobe and knocks the wind from his lungs and the glasses from his face. Looking up through the curtain of his thick bangs, he tries to catch his shaking breath. Elliot kneels across the floor from him, a horrified look in his widened blue eyes.

"I didn't. That wasn't me--" he mutters breathlessly. His voice sounds so small, so far away. So scared. So unlike Elliot.

His hand falls from his head to his chest, and Leo's stomach sinks.

There's no denying it anymore.

"i'm sorry," Leo chokes. The next words burn his tongue as he utters them against his own will.

"you're an Illegal Contractor. and it's all my fault."

"That. Isn't possible," Elliot hisses through his teeth and the pain. But another wave of pulsating agony washes over him, and the hand against his chest clenches tight. He growls in frustration and squeezes his eyes shut tight as he yells, "Shut up!!!"

But Leo isn't talking.

The servant swallows thickly. But he can't move. Frozen in sorrow, and the fear that he's just ruined everything.

But then Elliot growls in agony again, suddenly doubling over. He writhes on the ground as he grabs at his chest with one hand and his head with the other. "Shut up--! Shut up!!" he cries.

Finally, Leo moves. He scrambles across the floor to Elliot's side, but hesitates as he reaches for his friend's shoulder to try and comfort him. He's probably the last person on earth that Elliot wants to see now--

But Elliot moves instead, reaching up to grab Leo's arm like a life preserver. And that's enough for the smaller man to scoop him up, cradling him. Elliot curls into his servant's chest, his shouting reduced to panting and muffled whimpers as a wave of lightheadedness leaves him fighting to stay conscious.

"i'm sorry, Elliot. i'm sorry. i wanted to believe it was just a nightmare," Leo sobs as his friend finally collapses in his arms. "i. i just couldn't stand the thought of a world without you in it. it's all my fault, i'm so sorry, Elliot, I love you, I'm so sorry--"

Leo's hands shake as he slowly unbuttons Elliot's shirt with great effort. He has to see it for himself. He pushes back the fabric, revealing the twisted design of the Incuse, three-quarters completed, and his stomach turns. As he starts to cry again, Leo hears a familiar voice inside him.

Ignoring it didn't make it disappear, did it?

[allthesmutl0vers]

The Weight of Blood: Tom/Theo/Draco/Regulus/Fem!Reader (Part Five)

MDNI,18+,NSFW Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Masterlist Pairing: Tom Riddle/Theo Nott/Draco Malfoy/Regulus Black/Fem!Reader TW: Mentions of suicide attempt, mentions of past self-harm, lots of fluff. Protective Tom/Theo/Draco/Regulus.

Chapter Five

Regulus

I feel like I’m going out of my mind. I haven’t seen y/n for three days. Did she drop out? How could she leave without saying goodbye?

I shake my head. That’s ridiculous. Why would she? She barely knows us. I immediately stop pacing the dorm when I get an idea. A stupid, reckless, possibly get myself expelled idea. But an idea. 

I swing open the dorm room door, running right into Theo, Draco, and Tom. “Woah,” Theo chuckles. “Where are you in a hurry to?”

“I’m going to check on her,” I try to move past them when Tom stops me. 

“Have you completely lost your mind?” He looks at me with a hardened facial expression. 

I scoff and shake my head, pushing his hands off of my shoulders. “You don’t get it. Just because you think less of her,” I swallow. “Doesn’t mean I do.” 

“And just how do you expect to get into her dorm? Hm? There’s probably other girls in the dorm, not to mention you don’t know the damn password.”

I blink a few times and look off to the side. “I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re risking everything to check on her?” Draco scoffs. “What happened is fucked up, but it’s none of our business. None of yours.”

I hold back the need to sock him in the mouth. “It’s my business if I say it is,” I step up to him. “I’m done,” I look over at Tom. “Consequences be fucking damned.”

Tom’s eyes narrow on me, but I don’t back down. His jaw ticks, and finally, he takes a deep breath. “Fine. But we’re coming with you.”

I don’t even let myself stop to think about what he just said, what he’s doing to help me find her. We haul our asses through the corridor until we find a lone Gryffindor boy, probably fifth or sixth year, and corner him. 

“What’s the password to your house?” My tone is rushed as my hands shake. 

He looks at me like I just asked him to hand over his wand. “Excuse me?” 

“The password. Now,” Tom demands, stepping up to my side. 

I watch the kid’s eyes widen. When Tom says jump, you don’t ask why. You ask ‘how high?’ 

“Fortuna Major,” he rushes out. 

“Where is y/n’s dorm?” Theo asks. 

The kid shrugs. “From what I heard from Cormac, it’s at the end of the hall. She has her own. Right staircase.”

I break out in a sprint, caught cutting classes be damned. I just hope to Merlin that if she’s leaving, she’s still packing. That she can give me the chance to ask her to stay. 

We get into the common room, and I run up the staircase on the right, just like the kid said, and twist the doorknob. Locked. I start to knock on the door. “Y/n?” I knock louder. “Y/N?!” I call her name louder, knocking harder. 

“Move,” Draco pushes me out of the way and draws his wand, pointing it at the lock. “Alohomora.”

The lock clicks, and I open the door. “Y/n?” Theo calls out her name. I look around her dorm for any sign that she’s packing. 

“Shit,” Tom mutters. I turn to look at him, holding a piece of paper. 

“What does it say?” I move over to him, grabbing it from his hands. My stomach plummets. “Oh my God,” I mutter, dropping the letter and looking around. 

“What?” Draco asks, leaning against her door frame. 

I see water on the floor coming from behind a door. I try to open it, locked. I pull back and ram my shoulder into the door with every bit of strength I have. “Oh God,” there’s so much blood. I rush to y/n laying in the tub, wrists slit and her face pale. “Oh, no. No, no, no!” 

“Y/n!” Theo calls from behind me as Tom turns off the water, and I lift her out of the tub. “Is she?”

“Put her on the floor,” Tom directs me, and I lay her down on the wet floor. 

“Don’t let her die,” my eyes water as Tom pulls out his wand. 

“Vulnera Sanentur,” Tom waves his wand over her wrists, and the blood stops flowing from her wrists. 

“Oh my God,” Draco moves to stand in the bathroom with us, his eyes wide. 

“Vulnera Sanentur,” Tom repeats, his voice calm even when kneeling in her blood. 

“She’ll be okay,” Theo grabs my shoulder and tilts his head down, closing his eyes. “Per favore, vivi. Dio, non lasciarla morire. Bebe, vivi per favore,” his voice cracks. (Please live. God, don't let her die. Baby, please live.)

I can’t breathe as Tom repeats the incantation a third time. The wounds on her wrists appear closed, but it’s hard to tell with all of the blood. I just pray we aren’t too late. 

“Vulnera Sanentur,” Tom repeats, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s holding his breath too. 

“Please breathe, little lamb,” I sniffle. I see her chest rise and fall, and I let out a deep breath. “Thank fucking God.” 

“She’ll survive. But she needs to rest,” Tom rises onto his feet, scooping down and lifting her body into his arms. “Move,” he looks at me and Theo. I could kill him for acting like this, but I’m too thankful for him saving his life. 

Tom lays her on her bed and looks back at the three of us. “Get some dry clothes. The water was cold.”

Draco looks through her closet without a word, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a big T-shirt. Looking at her lying in her bed, I can see all of the scars on her legs and stomach. I’ve seen scars like that before. On Tom. 

“I’ll change her. You lot turn around,” I take the clothes from Draco. They listen without a word, even Tom. I carefully strip off her shorts and T-shirt, leaving her bra and panties on to cover her. She’s been assaulted before, and when she wakes up in clean clothes, I don’t want her to think we touched her in any way we didn’t need to. “I’m done.” 

We all sit around her dorm, waiting for her to wake up. Tom looks over her books, finding some kind of book with pictures in it. Theo opens her window and lights up a smoke. Me and Draco join him after I clean up her bathroom, and Draco removes the blood from her clothes. 

Hours pass as we wait for her to wake up. “I can stay if you guys want to go,” I look at each of them.

“Nobody is going anywhere,” Tom says, not taking his eyes off the page of one of her books from her shelf. 

I look over at Theo and Draco on the small couch to see if they feel the same way. They both shake their heads, agreeing with Tom that they’re not leaving. I sit down in the second armchair next to Tom, my leg bouncing with anxiety. I look over every few minutes to make sure she’s still breathing, but I need her to wake up so I can hear her voice. 

I need to ask her why she would do this. Ask her why she didn’t come to me first. I know we’re not together, but fuck. I would’ve done anything to make her feel better. Hell, I’m willing to throw everything away for her. 

I look over at Tom and swallow. “I meant what I said, you know.” 

Tom finally looks up from her book. He nods and looks back down. “I know you did.”

“Are you going to tell them? My parents, or Bellatrix?” My leg continues to bounce. “I just need enough time to grab some stuff before they disinherit me.” 

Tom sighs and puts the book down in his lap, looking up at me. “No. I’m not. As long as you respect that, I can’t just walk away.” 

“You could.” 

Tom looks across the room, out the window. “I have nothing else.” 

“That’s not true,” Theo answers. “You have us.”

“Yeah,” Draco nods. “We’re not going anywhere, mate.” 

Tom’s jaw ticks, and he shakes his head. “It’s too late for me. I’m already in too deep. I have a meeting with Viktor Krum. We’re supposed to set up a time for him and the students from his school to go to the manor to meet Bellatrix.”

“Tell him you changed your mind,” Theo offers. “Tell him it was all a prank. Or that the ministry caught on, and it’s over.”

“Just forget it. I’ll handle it,” Tom sighs and nods to y/n’s bed. “She’s waking up.”

I stand up, and so does everyone else. They stand around her bed as I sit down next to her, holding her hand. 

Y/n groans and shifts and her eyes finally flutter open. “Wh— What happened?” 

She moves to sit up, and I help her. “Here, let me help you.” 

Her eyes lock on mine as she blinks a few times and looks around her, noticing the others, and she starts to panic. “What the Hell? How did you guys get here?” She looks down at her wrists, only small scars remaining. “No, no, no,” she stands up and looks at all of us. “What did you do?!” 

“We saved your life,” Tom answers her, straightening his back. 

She moves toward him, raises a hand, and goes to slap him when he catches her wrist, and she starts to cry. “You had no right!” She shrieks. 

Tom’s eyebrows furrow as he looks down at her. “Neither did you.”

“You… I was ready! I wrote my Mum, I…” She starts to cry, her legs giving out when Tom does the last thing I ever expected him to do. He holds her.

“You’re not finished yet,” he mutters as he wraps his arms around her waist, letting her kick and slap him to her heart’s content. I feel my heart crack, and I see Draco’s eyes fill with tears, same with Theo.

“I don’t want to be here. I can’t,” she sobs, and then she breaks my heart with four words. “I want to die.”

“Shh,” Tom holds her tight. “You don’t mean that.” 

She finally settles, and Tom lets her go. She crawls onto her bed, sits against her headboard, and pulls her knees to her chest. “Little lamb?” I sit next to her, and she sniffles, wiping her tears. She looks up at me with bloodshot eyes and lets me pull her to my side, wrapping an arm around her. I open my mouth to ask any of the questions that I had ready to ask her, but none of them come out. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

She nods and looks up at me. “Were you the one that saved me?”

I shake my head, brushing her hair out of her face. “It was Tom.”

Her eyes widen slightly and she looks over at Tom standing at the end of her bed. “Thank you, Tommy.” 

Fuck. He hates that name. I look up at him, waiting for him to correct her, and ready to hex him if he hurts her like he does when Theo calls him that. But to my surprise, he nods, even smiles a little. “You’re welcome.”

Theo, never missing the opportunity to make someone smile, falls on his side onto her bed in front of us and gives her a cheeky grin. “So, are we finally on a nickname basis, bella?” 

Y/n scoffs a laugh but smiles. And my god, if it is not the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Depends.” 

“Pray, do tell,” Theo winks, making me chuckle and roll my eyes. 

Y/n sniffles and smiles. “Do you have any weed?” 

Draco laughs and sits on her other side. “Oh, darling,” he smirks at her. “We always have weed.” 

“Make room for Tommy, Theo,” she pulls Theo to sit up. 

Tom scoffs and shakes his head, sitting down. “Merlin, must you call me that?”

“Want me to call you Riddle instead?” She cocks a brow in his direction. 

Tom chuckles and shakes his head again. “Fine.” 

Theo lights his joint and passes it to y/n. “You know how to smoke?” 

“I’m not a goody two shoes, Theo,” she takes it from his hand and puts it to her lips, taking a long drag and coughing hard when she blows out the smoke. 

Draco laughs and puts a hand on her shoulder. “You sure about that?”

Y/n flips him off and passes it to me as Tom hands her some water. “Drink.”

Y/n smirks and drinks it, handing me the glass when she’s done. “Yes, sir,” she chuckles. 

Tom smirks and rolls his eyes. We all talk, and she tells us about how hard she’s been struggling. She shows us her bruised and scabbed knuckles from punching the astronomy tower railing and how that night is when she made her decision. And about sneaking away to Hogsmeade for one last butterbeer. We listen without judgment and in silence as she explains everything. Even the scars we saw on her legs and stomach, which are apparently from punishing herself for not being good enough in her classes. Her need to be the best only rivals Tom, who did the same thing for the same reason, but he doesn’t tell her that. 

When she finally finishes, and the joint and the next one are smoked, she sighs. “I’m sorry for putting you guys through this. I’m so embarrassed,” she shakes her head. 

“Bella, you have nothing to apologize for,” Theo smiles. 

Draco clears his throat, and she looks at him. “I’m sorry for adding onto it. I shouldn’t have called you…what I called you.” 

Y/n leans her head on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

“But it’s not,” Draco tips her face up by her chin. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

Y/n doesn’t say anything; she just nods as he lets go of her chin. I clear my throat, and she turns to look at me next. “Next time you feel this way, come to us. Any of us, okay?” 

She nods and holds up her pinky. “Pinky promise.” 

I cock an eyebrow at her, confused. “What’s that?” 

She blushes and shakes her head. “Right, sorry. It’s a muggle thing,” she chuckles. “You link your pinkies with someone and shake, making a promise. And if someone breaks it, you break their pinky,” she narrows her eyes at me. “It’s very serious.” 

I chuckle at how ridiculous it sounds, but she waves her pinky. “Well, come on then.” 

I link my pinky finger with hers, and we shake. “You’re ridiculous.” 

She scrunches her nose and chuckles, turning to Tom and offering her pinky. Tom sighs, and pinky promises her, too. “Just so you know, I will break it if you break your promise.” 

“Then it’s a good thing I take it so seriously,” she raises her brows at Tom and makes the same promise with Draco and Theo. She sits back and yawns, covering her mouth with her hand. “Fuck, I’m tired.” 

“Mio amore, I may never let you sleep again,” Theo smirks. 

Y/n scoffs and smiles. “Well,” she takes his hand. “I need to sleep sometime,” she drops his hand and looks at all of us. “I’ll be fine. You guys can go. It’s getting late anyway.”

Tom actually laughs. “You think we’re leaving you alone after we found you almost dead?” He cocks a brow. 

Y/n scrunches her face. “Well, there’s only my bed, and I’m not—”

Tom shakes his head and waves his wand, making three sleeping bags appear on her floor. “We’ll be fine.” 

Y/n opens her mouth to argue, but I grab her hand. “It’s no point arguing with him. You won't win, lamb.” 

Y/n sighs in defeat and raises her hands. “Fine, fine.” 

“Or we could all doggy pile in your bed,” Theo winks. 

Tom smacks him upside the back of his head. “Don’t be stupid.”

Y/n giggles, pursing her lips. “Theo, I promise one night we will have a good old-fashioned slumber party, and you can all sleep in my bed.” 

“Merlin,” Draco groans and turns to y/n. “Now you’ve gone and done it.” 

“What?” Y/n laughs and points at Theo, making puppy dog eyes at her. “Look at that face. How could I say no.”

Draco snorts and smiles. “Just prepare yourself. He’s a bed hog.” 

“Am not!” Theo gives Draco a fake offended look. “I am a perfect gentleman, I’ll have you know.”

“Mhm. Sure,” I laugh. 

“Vaffanculo,” Theo waves his hand. (Fuck you)

We laugh and chat for a few more minutes until y/n starts to drift off on my shoulder, so we all stand up from her bed, and I pull the covers over her, kissing the top of her head. 

“So, Tommy, huh?” I joke as we all get into our sleeping bags. 

“Shut up,” Tom glares at me, trying not to smile. 

I shake my head. “Ready to jump ship?” 

Tom swallows and bites his lip. “I can try to figure something out.” 

I decide to leave it for now, that’s as much of an answer I know I’m going to get out of him tonight. I sigh as I sink into my sleeping bag, y/n sleeping peacefully just a few feet away and Draco and Theo on my other side. 

And then four turned to five.

Part Six

[i-am-vita]

Bogard's Sexy Spy Wife Headcanons

👉 My Masterlist, Oc Ghost Rose Masterlist

Watching the episodes of the Diary of Koby-Meppo gave me ideas 🤭

In my other headcanon where Ghost Rose chooses Bogard (read: Someone who loves you, sequel soon... I hope), they've been married for a while by the start of the show (anime, manga or LA) and is their main intel dealer and contact with the Phantom Pirates.

Those are their faces with every Bogard and Ghost Rose interaction before finding out they're married. They gossip about if she's some femme fatale spy/pirate that sells intel to the Marine in exchange of dubious favors. Bogard chastising them with a glare for being noisy about his personal life will never not be funny.

She always knows where to find the HQ-3 even when Bogard don't tell her. SPECIALLY the times when Bogard insists her to not look for him for the safety of whatever mission they are in.

It drives him crazy (but loves it secretly). Garp thinks it's hilarious.

When they arrived at headquarters for Koby and Helmeppo's training, she appeared briefly to smooch her husband and inform them of something regarding Dragons' last appearance and Baroque Works.

Yes, Garp is always aware of his son's whereabouts and does shit about it. He just wants to know if he's safe and asked her to keep him informed. She just wants an excuse to see her husband out of his leave days. Win win.

They where in the middle of sword training when, suddenly, Bogard halted the cadet's swords and disarmed them with a movement to immediately direct his attention to a point behind the Vice Admiral. A rare smile adorned his face leaving his apprentices stunned.

They turned in unison to see what on the four blues would be able to put a smile on their instructor's face. Their jaws practically drop to the floor.

Perched on a rock behind Garp was a most beautiful woman with tanned skin and long wavy hair, dressed in a fitting black dress.

"What? A chicken shited my head?" Asked Garp before turning around. "Ah, it's you," he commented upon seeing the woman behind him.

She's probably the only person in all the blues capable of sneak behind Garp without notice.

"You said you wanted to know as soon as posible when your man of interest was in the move," said the mysterious visitor before lowering her voice to murmur in the Vice Admiral's ear. "He was seen in Loguetown saving a certain Strawhat kid..."

"Ma'am, I don't know who you are, but these are the Marine Headquarters and the presence of non-military personnel is forbidden," Koby interrumpted naively.

Rose blinked several times before start gigling. Garp cackled loudly. Bogard's crooked smiled broadened.

"Ohhh, sweet summer child," she cooed.

"Ah, well, you're pro'bly gonna see more of her in the future," mumbled Garp. "This is Ghost Rose, Rose for short, our main informant, keeps me updated on tha Grand Line news."

"But... Doesn't the Marine has its own intel network for that?" asked a confused Helmeppo.

"Bah... A bunch of witless fools who wouldn't find a fish in a puddle..."

"I don't think the saying goes like that..."

"My own intel network is foolproof!"

"... Is that even legal?"

"... Probably not," admited the Vice Admiral.

Koby and Helmeppo looked at each other dumbfounded. Which kind of morally dubious lunatic did they ended with?

"Now, if you don't mind, Vice Admiral, I'll take my payment for the service," Rose said in a tone that indicated she didn't care about Garp's minding it at all.

In a swift and fast movement, she advanced past Koby and Helmeppo towards Bogard and surrounded him with her arms to take his lips with hers in a passionate kiss. His free arm surrounded her smaller form to lift her up to his taller frame.

Koby and Helmeppo froze from the shock of witnessing their stoic instructor in the receiving end of such a public display of afection.

"Hey! Do not mess World Government property," grumbled Garp witnessing the path of red lipstick left by Ghost Rose on his Second's cheeks and jaw.

"I missed you, mi amor," she murmured lovingly to his ear.

"Forgive me, cara mia, we got sidetracked in the East Blue," Bogard answered in the same soft tone.

"So I heard. Did the Baroque Works' clue led to something?"

"Yes, half of a corpse and a black business card."

For their part, and not being privy to the couple's private talk, the cadets' imagination was running wild with this new information.

"Is it me or is the Vice Admiral paying under-the-table for illegal intel with sexual favors from Bo-san?" Murmured Helmeppo to Koby's ear, to the everlasting embarrassment of the pinkhaired cadet.

"That's too much, Helmeppo. It's just a kiss. Maybe she's just into Bo-san and likes to joke about it..."

"He doesn't look too bothered about it," continued the blonde like he hadn't listened to his friend. "Do you think Garp has had to pay similarly in the past?"

Both boys shudered at the mental image of considering Garp in that situation too.

"Yeah, yeah... Cut it off, you two," grunted Garp making Koby and Helmeppo to scare jump into standing at attention. "Got something useful about that Baroque Works this time?"

"Excuse me! Do you know how hard was to discover that one lead? Whoever they are, these people are good at covering they tracks... but yes, we got something. Seems like someone stirred the hive recently because now we are finding rumors everywhere..."

Koby and Helmeppo tried to follow the conversation to no avail, too distracted by Bogard's interaction with the beautiful spy. Her back was comfortable leaning over the officer's front, his arm still around her waist, their fingers intertwined.

The trail of red kiss marks over his face was so offputting...

"I guess that's my cue to leave," Rose finally said.

Bogard's expression soured immediately and his arm tighten around her before lettting go.

"Be careful, rosa mia," Bogard whispered in his wife's hair, taking a last breathe of her fragance.

"Always." Rose turned around to give her husband a last kiss. "Garp is going to owe me a month of you after this," she added out loud. Wink, wink.

The cadets blushed profusely at the implications of that last comment.

Koby and Helmeppo's minds blew even more when they eventually discovered Bogard is married.

On a particularly slow day, when they were doing some meditation to teach the cadets the importance of a clear mind and control over their emotions, Helmeppo dared to open an eye and almost fell backwards.

The three had dodge their respective uniforms for some confortable yukatas. Bogard was sit in front of them and Helmeppo noticed a golden chain over his clothes. Hanging from it was an unmistakable wedding ring.

That night, the blond confided to Koby his discovery, so they could be scandalized together at their superiors appaled behaviour. Garp for offering his Second for those services and Bogard for allow it while being married.

It would be some weeks and several encounters with Ghost Rose (she's deeply oppose to stay away from her husband for more than a week and mostly succeeds, Garp can cope and Bogard won't complain) until they learn she IS Bogard's wife and not a random femme fatale spy going around the Grand Line selling intel in exchange of dubious favors from married marines.

"You could've just asked me if you had those doubts," suggested Garp.

"It's not of their business," added Bogard grumpily.

Rose just laugh and made sure to leave a visibly red kiss on the cadets' cheeks every time they concur since then.

.