#they forget that they’re still men and say shit like this

[tariah23]

[fappellmoan]

something on my mind rn. as you all know i’m a lesbian. applause from the audience. and sometimes it just gets to be like annoying when. well. so i have at least A friend who’s asked me several times over ‘so you don’t have Any attraction to men? like at all?’ and i know they’re not being like malicious but you know. that answer has not changed since like seventh grade. and in the same vein it just feels aggravating when i have the nerve to say Oh i think she seems like a lesbian. that’s giving dyke. etc. and to be met with ‘umm well maybe she actually does like men.’ like. first of all in personal conversations if i’m just saying shit chances are i’m just going off of patterns from my own life or other lesbians i know. i’m not here for Bi Erasure and i promise you in this context your attraction to men is not ever invalidated as much as my lack of it. esp in college with so many people talking about their dating/app experiences and etc it’s 99.9999% of the time about men and i just Can’t participate in that conversation which is yk not the end of the world but a bit isolating and even if i do contribute anything it just feels like… a slight Stiffening like. and even just getting brushed off with Well yeah but you’re not even into guys. like real! i still have eyes though. and esp when my attraction isn’t being celebrated and engaged with in the way theirs is it’s just really fucking lonely! and maybe that’s a gross inner voice of insecurity that i’m projecting onto them but like you must get what i mean right. there’s still this odd air specifically around people who Do Not engage with men at all. and if i do make any kind of joke or comment abt someone maybe just Not being into guys i’m made into the asshole who’s invalidating their experiences etc when like. i’m just saying shit man idk. and it’s like many of these people are bi and claim attraction to women but get so like uncomfortable actually talking about it. i don’t think i’m the one with problems! i think there’s still some internalized shit there. you know. anyway all this to say as much as we’ve had the conversation of invalidating bi attraction some of you need to think about not treating gay attraction as this secondary awkward weird elephant in the room. and on a more personal note on top of the Everything that was getting under my skin last night this was just a cherry on top where i was feeling soo… misunderstood and invalidated lol even tho again i largely think those friends were being very supportive and kind to me. this is just one thing i was like. 😐

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations-19

I notice Earth suns tend to have a very bullying type of humor. Very harsh dry humor that’s borderline offensive is their style. Sometimes it’s hard to know if they’re joking or serious especially Capricorn’s 😭

Aries men are surprisingly not as hot headed as people would expect. It actually takes a lot before they really yell at you. Usually only if u insult something they’re passionate in. The women are a lot more hot headed & easily set off imo

Mercury Rx people usually struggle with speech or reading problems. I notice it can result in having a stutter or a lisp, dyslexia or just very bad social anxiety. In extreme cases I’ve seen selective mutism. I also notice they have a very intense relationship with books & reading, it’s either they absolutely love reading or it’s really challenging for them in some way. A lot started off in their earlier years finding reading challenging then ended up loving reading as they grew. It’s like a mental exercise for them.

Saturn RX people always make bad choices lol. They always choose the path that will lead to the most hardship just for the fun of it or the excitement (which it’s normally not fun for too long) they usually grew up having a hard time with authority. Could of had very authoritative parents that were too hard on them which caused them to rebel. In this lifetime they are here to learn the value of HARD-work because in past lives these people were usually really irresponsible & put fun and pleasure over building their futures. These people will face so much disappointment until they surrender their rebel lifestyle. Deep down they do want to mature & be better but many believe they aren’t good enough. Once they reach this maturity however their life will do a 360.

Venus in the 1st house people can act very unpleasant when they are getting ignored or the attention isn’t fully on them. They value people liking them & fitting in so when they feel like they aren’t vibing with anyone they go into this deep self pity downer attitude. Their self esteem and happiness is determined by how many people accept them.

Venus in the 3rd house people have relationships that look more like friendships. Their partnerships are more playful & light then deep and intense. They usually end up dating their best friend. Could lack in the physical realm however in some cases.

Venus in the 7th house people usually have a lot of crushes. Most of them however never turn into anything deeper. It’s surprisingly hard for these people to fall in love. They can also lead a lot of people on because of their multiple crushes. Not easy to keep these people attention.

Moon in Caps are really afraid of rejection. They will act they hate you even if they’re in love with you to avoid showing their vulnerable side. Their coldness can ruin a lot of relationships that they actually really wanted.

Mercury in Pisces people can never stay on topic while speaking 😂 they have this habit of going off topic then completing forgetting why they were even telling the story in the first place. They also disassociate like a mf. They can be staring dead in your eyes for hours and not hear a word you’re saying lol.

If you try to argue with a Mars in the 3rd house you will never win. These people are natural born lawyers. They come with all the receipts 👀

Cancer placements tend to have really round faces. Like the moon.

Pisces placements are really wise and really childish at the same time. They all have this naive childish aura around them where you assume they don’t understand much but then when you really get to know them they will talk to you like your listening to an Alan Watts lecture 😂

Mercury in the 12th house I believe is the most introverted mercury placement. Even with a more extroverted mercury sign there’s still this deep reserve to them. These are usually those kids in class that you never heard speak once then they finally speak u think “holy shit they do know how to talk” lol. I notice they choose to stay quiet because people ignore them anyways. Like people will ask them to be more open and talk more & when they actually try they are usually brushed off.. it’s really not fair, and they know this all too well.

Aquarius Venus 🤝 having their friends catch feelings for them

Uranus/Venus aspects are usually apart of the LGBTQ community.

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐈𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥~

Pairing: Husband!Damian Wayne x Wife!Reader

Word count: 759

Warning: suggestive at the very end

People know you and Damian belong together, no doubt about it. With making your relationship public and years later your marriage, which was also the talking gossip around Gotham for a month or two, everyone knows. But some people are too stubborn to the fact, you learn that very early in your relationship when women would just throw themselves at your lover's arm clinging to him as he tries to pray them off with an annoying expression, thinking that the son of Bruce Wayne would have the same Playboy persona just like his father, but they’re wrong forgetting the Damian Wayne is in fact, the most loyal man when it had came down to your dating and now marriage.

He would rather be with you than any other woman on earth, and for some, it was hard to face reality. You’re grown used to it over the years. But sometimes it just grows a spark inside of you. Much like tonight, in the Wayne manor that now belongs to the two of you. After Bruce’s retirement, it’s now Damian’s job to throw those galas and charity events, much to his dismay.

Secretly you do the work because he wasn’t given the gift of organization at all. So now you stand back, watching everyone. Happy with the way the nights going as you sip on your glass of champagne, it’s different front the rest. Damian thinks you deserve better than the champagne and wine that’s given out to the others. You spot his brothers in the crowd and other familiar faces that belong to a few close friends. The last face you spot was your husband, chatting away with men from his workplace. A forced smile on his face. It makes you chuckle, as a kid he hated them, and even as an adult he still does. But it’s more tolerable, well kinda.

You spot a random woman stumbling towards the ground of men, obviously sober as she tries to act intoxicated for the hell of it. She leaps for Damian’s arm that’s on his side, ignoring the one that holds his drink. He doesn’t shake her off, instead, he lets out a fake laugh along with the others around him.

That’s new you thought.

This went on for more than ten minutes which was a surprise. Normally it would’ve taken him less than five to shake them off, but instead, he’s standing there letting it happen. Which was a surprise. They’re having conversations, sometimes other people would chime in here and there.

Damian says something you can’t hear, and the woman laughs, giggling loudly to the point where you can hear her from the other side of the room. She laughs like it was the funniest thing she’s heard all night.

The horrendous laughter dies down, and she stares. Directly at you. She stares at you with a sly grin that paints her red lips. You frown and glare, gripping your glass. Almost breaking it until one of the servants comes up to you and offers you another drink, which you gladly take without a second thought.

The glare you send is hard, most people can sense it, the chilling aura that spills from you. Damian’s quick to sense it, he’s good at it, with a quick look towards you as you stare down at his arm— he gives you a genuine grin. He shakes off the women.

“Apologies. My presence is needed elsewhere” he gives a side eye down “with my wife” The woman was not happy, pouting as he watched her target leave her sight. But she puts on a facade and leaves, probably off to find another arm to cling on.

There’s a shit-eating grin plaster on his face when he walks up to you, and all you could do is roll your eyes—taking a big sip out of your drink in your hand.

“Zawjati?” he called out “Why are you here all by yourself?”

“You just seemed a little busy with your groups of friends” you hum “I didn’t want to ruin it”

The grin on his face softens, arm stretched out towards you, and you take his warm hand without a second thought. “Don’t be jealous” he chuckles “Everyone knows I’m all yours”

“Why would I be jealous?” You scuff, he was right but you would never admit that to his face. You lean into him closer, bringing him down to your level—lips brushing up against his ear “When I’m the one that ends up taking you straight to the bedroom right after every time”

[hysteria-things]

hello again !! i know you just posted my last request but i have another idea !

• SMUTTY PLSZ

• matt/chris x teacher!reader

So basically, chris/matt are in senior year or any year in college and he has a teacher(reader) who's quite young and closer to their age but is still older and knowing men, she's already very popular in their school y'know y'know?

ALSO if you're gonna make the other students be a big part of the story too or add more plot, pls don't make the girls of the school hate her. it just feels unrealistic since in our school, it's mostly the girls that simp for the hot female teacher lmao

This idea was based on their video "truth or eat" i think(i forget everything) where he was asked if he's ever had a crush on a teacher and he answered yes w no hesitation and also the song "Teacher's Pet" by Melanie Martinez but switched genders.

i just think the male being the teacher and the female being the student felt overused/overdone(?)

Only if you're comfortable w this idea tho !!

TEACHER'S PET (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x teacher!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt asks for extra help after class (even though he knows exactly what he’s doing)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!), degradation, cheating (cheat on tests, not people), hair pulling, spanking, breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,236

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: shoutout any of you in college i dropped out after a month i give you guys so much credit that shit’s hard😔

for @skadltmf :)

matt and his college friends sit at the round table in the food court. they’re at the home stretch of senior year with the spring semester starting tomorrow.

“i got that hot professor for one of my morning classes.” one of his friends brags. “she’s so fine.”

“who?” matt asks, and the two sitting with him stare at him like he should know this.

“professor l/n.” the other one starts. “literally everybody is obsessed with her. she’s only twenty-five; three years older than us.”

“there’s no way she doesn’t let students fuck her to get a good grade.” they both laugh, but matt stays quiet. his friends are in their conversation about you while matt thinks to himself.

he has you for a class too but at 6 PM.

you stand at the front of the class, teaching like a normal teacher should. half of the class never pays attention, anyway, but you still have to do your job.

they may not know, but you listen. you listen to what they say about you, and to be honest it boosts your ego.

one student in particular actually pays attention and takes notes, like what he’s doing right now. you couldn’t help but stare at him from time to time, and he’ll already be staring at you when you do.

you’re grading papers on your desk as your students work independently for the last fifteen minutes of class. you feel a presence, and you look up to see him there, fiddling with his worksheet.

you smile at him. “hello, matt. do you need help with something?”

“kind of. will i be able to stay after class?”

your phone lights up, and he glances at the lock screen. it’s a photo of you, your husband, and your son. “of course you can.”

he nods, going back to his seat.

the last fifteen minutes went by in a breeze, and all of the students left. except for one, of course.

you stand up and go over to the whiteboard, grabbing a marker just in case you need to explain something. “so, matt. what is it that you needed help with?”

“this question,” he says, stepping closer to you and pointing at the paper. you look at it confused because he already answered it. flawlessly.

“matt.” you chuckle. “you’ve got the problem right and showed your work perfectly. are you sure that’s the right one?”

his cheeks flush as he grabs your face, kissing you passionately. you pull away from his hold, weirdly sad that you did.

this is a first. you know the rumors that go around saying that you fuck students for an A+ but it’s not true. hell, you’ll lose your job.

he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, and you stare back. what you did next was a completely new person.

you go back in, his tongue inserting your mouth and swirling inside. this is so fucking wrong, but it feels so… right?

whining into the kiss, you move your hands down to his belt to unbuckle it. he chuckles, pulling away and pushing your head so you get on your knees.

he takes off his undergarments, revealing his—

your eyes widen. oh, god.

his red tip slides against your lips before you open, pushing himself into your wet mouth. “fuck.” he whispers.

grabbing onto your hair, he guides your head up and down his cock. he groans, leaning over and rutting his hips further into your mouth. your gagging fills the empty classroom, and spit starts to spill from your mouth.

it clicks in your head what you’re doing. you have a husband and child at home, for christ’s sake. you place your hands on his thighs and try to push your head back, but his grip is far too strong.

he slowly pulls out to watch his dick move past your lips, and slams back in. “take it, sweetheart. just like that.”

you keep gagging around him, your eyes becoming glassy as your mascara starts to smudge.

your lashes flutter each time he thrusts to the back of your throat before he stops. “s-shit.” he whimpers, but he doesn’t want to cum just yet. he closes his eyes to ignore the throbbing, pulling out of your sweet mouth. you cough, your lips swollen.

“bend over for me, yeah?” he smirks when you scramble to your feet. he grabs your waist, pushing your back so your stomach lays flat on your desk.

he lifts your skirt, moving your soaked underwear to the side. he wraps a finger around them and lets go, the elastic snapping against your core. you yelp at the sudden pain.

“such a slut.” he groans, inserting his tip into your folds but staying still. “letting one of your students shove his dick down your throat.”

he moves his tip out, but then puts it back in, thrusting it in and out teasingly. “bet you were thinking about this the whole lecture. i saw the way you were looking at me.”

you pathetically whine and nod. then, he grabs your hair so the upper half of your body is lifted from the wood. your hips dig into the edge of the desk as he starts entering you.

the stretch hurts, but it feels too good. your eyes flutter back, but a hand landing on your ass gets you out of your trance. he chuckles, taking the hand that’s not on your head and covering your mouth with it. “don’t be too loud, baby. don’t want the people outside that door knowing what a whore you are for me.”

he slides in deeper, a moan leaving your lips that’s muffled by his hand. he starts rutting his hips, going faster when you fit around him. “m-matt.” you gasp.

“so fucking tight around my cock.” he breathes out. your pleasurable cries and squelching of your pussy fill the room, along with his thighs slapping against your ass.

he removes his hand from your mouth, honestly forgetting that there are probably people around. all he’s focused on is pounding the daylights out of you. his teacher, mind you.

you grip the desk for support, moaning louder than any other time when his tip starts brushing against your cervix. “holy— shit.” you hoarsely scream, squeezing your eyes shut.

he lets go of your hair, your head immediately falling between your shoulders. “i’m gonna cum!” you warn, whimpering when he moves more mercilessly. both your thoughts and guts are getting scrambled at once.

“i wonder how disappointed your husband will be if he saw you like this.” he grunts and thrusts a few more times before continuing. “clenching around my dick, so badly wanting my cum inside you.”

you moan at his words. he feels so fucking good. you hate to admit it, but this is the best sex you’ve had in years.

“want me to fuck my baby inside you, you filthy whore?”

“y-yes, please,” you whine, repeating yourself over and over again.

you cum around him at the same time he stops deep, spreading your legs wider to finish inside. you moan one last time before becoming a rag doll, the bruises forming on your hips from them banging against the desk.

he moves your underwear back over your freshly bred pussy, kissing your shoulder and neck before whispering into your ear. “i’ll let you know when i need help again, professor l/n.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog

[shrimpybbq]

high school gf au thoughts….

they’ve had two kids already by the time they’re ~22-23, and they think that’s it - they’re done. 2 kids, a boy and a girl. no more.

i 100% believe the cameron’s are victims of an accidental baby (not like the last two weren’t also accidents…). the couple have a very healthy sex life and they’re still so young, so high school gf gets an iud. they last ages right, so they’ll be fine. wrong. life just gets so busy, and she forgets to get it replaced and changed. rafe is the worlds biggest fan of cumming inside his girl, and they don’t use condoms either, and truth be told, they go at it multiple times a week and for multiple rounds (stamina!).

so one day when she starts feeling nauseous in the morning, sensitive in the chest, and irritable for no reason, she thinks she’s just sick or something. it’s only when she checks her calendar and notices a missed doctors appointment that it hits. she should’ve predicted this with how insatiable rafe’s appetite is, but alas, here they are. they’re probably only both like 28 or 29 too, and both just react like “oh shit”.

and that’s how the cameron family becomes 5. they’ve got 3 kids before most of the people on figure 8 even have their first, but who really can blame either half of the couple when their spouse is so attractive. the women on figure 8 froth at the mouth over the dilf that is rafe cameron, and the sleazy men can’t get over how good mrs cameron looks, even with two mischievous children by her side.

moral of the story is i would give both rafe and drew as many children as they wanted, and evidently so would high school gf. she definitely pleads with him to get a vasectomy after though….

inspired by @yuckblushin saying she would give rafe a third kid hehe

[satansapostle6]

Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One. Eyes of Darkness.

Most people, when they’re getting arrested, shit their pants with fear. Some scream, some cry. Some rage, and some try to run, and some just freeze. That’s what you usually see, when you’re in your parents’ living room, and your dad can’t wait to turn on the TV to the channel dickety-six news, of all things. But sometimes, people have other reactions when being handcuffed and shoved in the back of a squad car. Sometimes people enjoy it, for one reason or another. I smiled when Miami Metro put me in cuffs on the news. Laughed, even. You see my story is many things, but boring certainly isn’t one of them.

Let’s start simple. My name is Nicole Carvalho, and as of today, America knows me as ‘Murderous MILF’. You really can’t make these things up; I love this country. I keep reminding myself, if I ever go free, I need to clip that out of the newspapers. But see, right now, at this very moment, I’m sitting alone in an almost blindingly white interrogation room at the precinct, waiting for a cop to question me while they study me on the surveillance footage. I can’t lie, I’m sitting back right now in my chair, smirking. You see, I killed the men who violated and later took my baby girl’s life, and I’m currently very pleased with myself.

I don't think my grandfather pictured this when he left Brazil. This truly is the American dream; committing a crime and letting your own peers decide whether or not it was justified. In all honesty, a jury will be much kinder to me than ‘God’ has been. So, I figured I’d let myself have this one thing. I think I waited about a half an hour before they sent someone in; a female detective. They must’ve figured a matching vagina couldn’t hurt. The first thing I noticed about this detective was that she was strikingly young; close to my age. I’m thirty-six, so I would estimate her to be maybe a little younger.

But apart from her age, the next thing I noticed about this detective was that she was very robotic in how she interacted with me; she didn’t necessarily look like she wanted to be there. She barely looked up at me when she came in, holding my files and looking down at them like a teenager doing a presentation in high school.

“So. Nicole Carvalho. I’m Detective Morgan.”

She sits down across from me less like I’m a murder suspect and more like she’s interviewing me for a secretary job. I look at her, sitting forward as I join her in the conversation, still smug as ever. I think she was secretly hoping I’d say it, the four words that usually drove most cops insane that, for some reason, no one ever thinks to say in the movies.

“I want my lawyer.”

I smile as I say it. Detective Morgan also smiles, looking down at the table before getting up. I’ll never forget how pleased she sounded.

“Guess that means I can’t ask you anymore questions.”

She gets up and walks out, and that’s the end of it. In all honesty, I don’t think she was looking forward to questioning a woman about the murder of her daughter’s rapist. After the detective left me alone, I was allowed to call myself the lawyer that I had in mind. This, of course, was a friend of a friend, a perfectly shady guy named Johnny Bertelli, who was, in the nicest way possible, a fucking scum bag. You see, I work as a project manager at a marketing firm, so I’ve met my fair share of good lawyers, but Johnny was the fucking best.

He made Johnnie Cochran look like an idiot. He was the kind of lawyer who laughed at the prosecution in court, and I needed him. So there i was, in the Miami Metro precinct punching a number I’d gotten off Google into a wall phone. I looked around the precinct as I waited for someone to pick up, and suddenly it was like I felt a pair of eyes on me. I turned around, and I saw a pretty timid, mild-mannered looking guy who seemed as if he’d been standing there trying to figure out how to get my attention.

But the strange thing was, he didn’t seem to want my attention, at all, actually. If anything, he seemed perturbed by the fact that I was looking his way. I looked over at him, not knowing what the fuck his story could’ve been. Miami’s a weird place, because in this moment, I realized the guy wandering the precinct in a Polo and khakis could very well be an employee. I looked at the guy, not knowing what he could’ve wanted with me as I struggled with the phone. Funny enough, he actually just wanted to be helpful.

“You gotta press pound,” he says quietly, “For the call to go through,” and I almost laugh.

I appreciate the odd moment, just thanking him.“Thank you.”

He just nods, and says nothing as he quietly retreats to wherever it was he came from. I took his advice, and sure enough, the phone worked and patched me through to Johnny’s office. I wasn’t quite sure at the time, seeing as I was obviously a bit preoccupied, but I felt that strange man’s eyes linger on me for a moment. Even as I turned around, I could sense his surreal sort of presence that he had. Sure, I was used to having men’s leering eyes on me out in public; it was hardly unusual. But this was different.

Like he was less looking at my body and flesh, but more so imagining what was underneath it.

*****

The next couple years of my life were eventful, to say the fucking least. Johnny of course advised me to take my case to trial instead of taking a plea, for obvious reasons; there was no way any jury was going to give me the maximum sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty. I was a single mother who stabbed her twelve year-old daughter’s rapist seventeen times. In the eyes of the public, I was practically a fucking hero. Johnny’s confident that any jury would feel sympathetic to me, despite the brutality of what I’d done. As he says, the facts are still there.

My neighbor, a weasley little creep named George Randall got me, and my Isabelle, to trust him, and took advantage of her in the worst way. Then she killed herself, because of what he did, and I had to find out through a note left on her desk for me to find. So, I went to George’s with an empty baking dish of his, and once he let me in, I whipped out the knife I’d borrowed from him, the same knife I used to use to cook for my little girl, and I made his stomach burst like a water balloon. At this point, I’d already chosen to show little remorse for the crime I’d committed, feeling perfectly at peace with the possibility of prison, or the death penalty.

But Johnny said there was probably no need to be too fearful of either. He’d even told me there was a possibility I’d just get a few years, and then parole, or something, and I wasn’t sure that wasn’t bullshit, but I also liked his confidence. The reality of it was, Johnny had made much worse people look way better. To him, my case was already closed. All I had to do was play the part of the grieving mother, which took no effort on my part. I had to wait almost a year for my case to go to trial, which I of course did outside of a cell.

This gave me enough time to get all my affairs in order, or so to speak. My job was okay for the time being, and I knew I’d probably still have it so long as I wasn’t convicted of murder, given my ‘years of dedicated service’. Things were going to be relatively fine, eventually, but for now, I was stuck being paraded around like a jester on some twisted apology tour for avenging my daughter’s death. I’m a pretty good actor, but even my patience has its limits. And maybe wearing my white So Kate’s to court wasn’t necessarily the best judgement call.

But Johnny, being more than worth the money I pay him, made it work. I walked into the courtroom with him, humble and graceful, and didn’t let my eyes linger so as not to appear guilty. But even then, I caught a glimpse of him in the room. The guy who helped me with the phone. He was watching my trial, probably just as a police department employee. Probably.

“Will the defendant please rise?”

I complied with Judge Willis’s request, with my trusty guard dog by my side. I remained dignified, my head held high, but not too high, of course, as the proceedings began.

“Miss Carvalho. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor,” I told him.

The damage was done. My fate rested entirely in the hands of twelve strangers, and for some reason, there was a thirteenth who seemed oddly invested in the outcome.

-

Part Two.

[muniimyg]

2.5: stfu 》 series m.list

note: my friends 🤭 how are we? this ch is jus fluff & rlly jus out here to give insight w their dynamic as friends !!! hope u enj 💛

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

//

Jungkook is a dick. 

Okay, he isn’t exactly a sly bitch-ass motherfucker… He’s just a little miscommunicative, a little forgetful, and a little annoying sometimes… Let’s just say he’s lucky he’s hot. 

“I thought you wanted to make out,” you half-heartedly complain as he finally notices you for the first time tonight. He chuckles before settling beside you. Your body itches for him to be closer. Instead, he keeps a friendly seating distance. “How did we end up here?”

Let’s set the scene.

You two are in a karaoke room with your friends. The boys are belting out their sad love songs while your best friend, Yuna, continues to down as many drinks as possible. Currently, she’s celebrating being ghosted, and this karaoke session was actually her doing. 

Yuna has been your friend since the beginning of time. With that being said: you two are complete opposites. She likes surprises and showing up… You like planning and ditching. She has her fair share of passionate flings and you have your fair share of boring boyfriends. It’s truly a work of balance between you two. Regardless, you love her with your entire heart and can’t wait for her to meet better men. On the other hand, Yuna holds a flaw that sickens you to your very core. Since the first day Taehyung introduced you and her to Jungkook, she has not shut up about how cute of a couple you two would make.

Aside from that, Yuna is chill. Your friendship with her is completely low maintenance. It’s hard to feel offended when you’ve always known she’s been closer to Taehyung. They’re the best of friends. Naturally, she texted Taehyung the ground-breaking news and he quickly got to work. He called all the boys up and then they all headed to Jungkook’s. Unfortunately, they beat you there and Jungkook didn’t have enough time to text you a warning. As you stood outside his door, you quickly caught on and pretended like Jungkook had communicated the plans with you. 

To be honest, it’s not like you needed Jungkook tonight. If anything, it was him who wanted to see you so bad… But you can’t help but feel irritated that the night turned out like this. 

It feels a little weird. 

You know you can touch him. That’s allowed, right? You two are friends and harmless physical affection is okay! It’s like, you know you reach over and touch his hand; he would hold it. You know he would.. So why isn’t he? 

It’s too early for you to swallow your pride.. However, that doesn’t stop you from having needs.

He should make the first move.

“I mean,” he takes a quick sip of his drink, “I’m a little shy… Oh! Idea… How about you kiss me first and I promise to kiss you back.”

You glare at him, shoulders dropping at his answer. Like always, he’s being a piece of shit. Swiftly, you take the drink from his hand and chug the rest of it down. When you finish, you hand him the empty glass and as you’re about to say something—he reaches over and wipes the top of your lip. 

You sit still and take in this moment. He’s slightly leaning in and his eyes are on your lips. Surely, he’ll fold, right? You want him to. 

When he pulls away, he puts his glass down. “I’m right here. You gonna do it or not?”

“We’re literally at a fucking karaoke room with our friends, Jungkook.”

“So?”

“I’m not exposing myself this early on!” you whisper-shout. 

He snickers. “And just how long is this supposed to last? Are we gonna be a secret forever?”

You shrug, having no answer for him. “This is stupid. You’re the one who asked—begged—me to come over and make out with you. You said you wanted to kiss my lips and my—”

“I know what I said,” Jungkook chides. “I meant what I said. Nothing changed.”

You poke his chest and repeat yourself. “We’re in a karaoke room with our fucking friends.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I had no choice! Blame Yuna!”

You gasp. “I would never!”

His shoulders slump, feeling defeated. “___, what do you want me to do? Fuck you in the bathroom—”

Your eyes widen at his blunt words. Quickly, you cover his mouth with your hand. He licks it in response and you groan in disgust. “You’re disgusting!”

“Pay back for spitting back at me the other night.”

Your eyes dart at him. He laughs and puts his hands up in defeat. “Relax. They aren’t listening to us.”

As you wipe your wet hand on his shirt, you take his word for it. Then, you move away from him and cross your arms in frustration. Jungkook playfully inches closer, murmuring apologies. You shake your head, pout, and turn the other way. 

Jungkook feels stuck. 

Was he really in the wrong? Did he go too far? Did anyone even hear? You’re just so uptight sometimes… It wouldn’t hurt to laugh, right?

That’s exactly what he figures to do.

Jungkook calls over the mic and stands up to sing. Everyone calms down and gives him their undivided attention.

“Uh,” Jungkook begins, “This is for Yuna!”

“No thanks!” Yuna rejects, raising a shot at him. She drinks it in one go and giggles. Jungkook winks, turning his attention to you. You cover your eyes with your hands and ignore the rest of the boys' cheers. 

“If I were your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I can take you places you ain’t never been before. Baby take a chance or you’ll never know. I got money in my hands that I’d really like to blow… Swag, swag, swag on you,” Jungkook sings cheekily. He takes his time, doing body rolls, and makes his performance much more dramatic with the help of Jimin and Nam Joon. 

Suddenly, the boys all join in.

They turn Jungkook’s special number into the performance of the night. They hype each other up and even create a choreo. Towards the end, Jungkook kneels in front of you and serenades the last few lyrics; “if I was your boyfriend, never let you go. Keep you in arm girl, you’d never be alone. If I was your boyfriend, I can be a gentleman, anything you want… If I was your boyfriend, I’d never let you go. I’d never let you go. So give me a chance, 'cause you're all I need girl. Spend a week with your boy I'll be calling you my girlfriend. If I was your man, I'd never leave you girl… I just want to love you, and treat you right.”

When the song comes to a complete end, the sound of the guy's laughter fills the room. Jungkook stays on his knees, making a pouty face. 

“Still mad?”

You give him a cold shoulder. “Dunno.”

Jungkook laughs, catching himself as he begins to lean in. Yuna awkwardly clears her throat. You shoot her a glare and she sticks her tongue out at you two.

“Jungkook…” she warns. “You’re not allowed to have ___!” 

He snickers at her. “Fine with me! I don’t want her.”

Yuna waves her finger at Jungkook, lowering her gaze at him. She isn’t convinced with his words. “Listen you motherfucker… You touch her and I’ll ruin your life.” 

Jungkook laughs coyly before turning to you. He wrinkles his nose and shrugs, “guess this is the beginning of my end.”

“Guess it is,” you purse your lips. “Too bad.”

“Too bad?” Jungkook scoffs, “if you’re my end; then so be it. Nothing more beautiful than you.”

You make a sour face at him before throwing the karaoke book his way. He dodges it and sticks his middle finger out at you. Then, he returns to his boys and joins them in song. From the corner of your eye, you see Yuna giving you a look. She mouths out, “anything to confess?”

You shake your head and roll your eyes at her.

Confess? What is there to confess? Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

By the grace of God, Taehyung was able to get Yuna to stop drinking. However, by the time Taehyung suggested to do so… She was no longer able to walk on her own. The karaoke session ends and everyone is either tipsy or helping Taehyung take care of Yuna. 

“Should I walk you home?”

You sit up and take your phone out. Swiping it open, you don’t bother to look at him when you answer. “I can Uber.”

Jungkook then snatches your phone and holds it above his head. There’s a lazy smirk on his face you want to slap off. “You’re not Ubering home alone and tipsy.”

“Walking home with you isn’t any better.”

In all honesty, Jungkook is tipsy too. He chugged a few beers last minute and took Yuna’s remaining shots. Yet, it’s clear that he’s sober enough to take care of himself. One thing you’ve only recently started to notice about Jungkook is that he’s a grumpy, sad, and needy drunk. Maybe the grumpy part is more prominent in the tipsy portion.

He offers a sarcastic laugh before frowning. “Shut the fuck up and get your shit. Let’s go. I’m tired.”

“Then go home—”

“Don’t be difficult,” he begs. “Just let me do this.”

The walk home is rather quiet. 

Aside from Jungkook’s lame attempts to ask you about your classes and work schedule, there’s not much to talk about. You answer him politely, feeling a little relieved that his little attitude is melting away. Slowly but surely, he was sobering up. 

To keep the conversation going, you ask him about the boys and what it’s like now that he moved out with Taehyung and Jimin. He answers truthfully, stating that the living situation is neater than he expected and that he misses the dynamic with everyone around during late nights. Sure the two boys kept him company and the aspect of privacy was nice, but he can’t help but miss the chaos. 

As he speaks and as you walk side by side with him—it still feels weird. It’s that same weird feeling you felt in the karaoke room. 

Your fingertips have brushed against each other for the nth time tonight. Was it the drinks you downed or are you actually feeling a little annoyed he didn’t even try to hold your hand tonight? And how did we get here? 

It’s your front door. 

… Is this it? Is it really just goodnight and go?

“Do you think Taehyung is secretly in love with Yuna?” Jungkook blurts with a cheeky grin on his face. “He’s all she talks about and vice versa. She always comes over and they just sit and talk and laugh like they’re the only two people in the world.”

You pause and think about it. “They’ve always been close.”

“Not like this,” he advocates. “They’re… Happier?”

“She’s still hung up on that guy that ghosted her… Maybe good company is just good company, you know? It doesn’t always have to mean or lead to a new love interest.” 

Jungkook tilts his head. “Is that how you feel too?”

“What do you mean?”

He bites his tongue. “Never mind.”

“... Okay?” you respond awkwardly. You turn away and dig through your bag for your key. “Thanks for walking me home, I guess? Goodnight.”

Jungkook sighs loudly. “Can you at least look at me and pretend like you care if I get home safe or not?”

“But I’d be lying!” you laugh, finally finding your keys. You stick it in and turn the nob. Suddenly, you feel his hand grab your wrist. With one tug, your body turns to face him. He smiles sweetly as you frown at him. 

“Dream of me,” he teases, taking a step closer to you. Closing in the space between, he dips his head low and lowers his gaze to your lips. 

“That’s just mean,” you whine. “Why would you want me to have nightmares?”

He glares at you. “Ha. Ha. Not funny.”

“It was pretty funny.”

Jungkook huffs, “no, it hurt my feelings actually.”

“Not my problem,” you snark back.

“You’re always my problem.”

“You’re annoying as fuck—”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook stresses. “Just let me kiss you goodnight, woman!”

Before you can answer, he crashes his lips against yours and kisses you. He does it deeply like he’s been waiting to kiss you all night. When you pull away for a breath, he continues to give you little kisses. You laugh and playfully push his face away from yours. 

He pouts and demands, “kiss me lots, ___.”

You can’t even deny him. In this very moment, he is the most precious thing in the world. You let him kiss you once more before squishing his cheeks together. You give him a peck before saying goodnight for the last time. 

“Get home safe, pookie.”

“Arghh,” Jungkook curls his hand into a fist and hits the left side of his chest. “I knew you’d care.”

He wishes to never forget the way his heart flutter at this very moment… And as much as you hate to admit it—your heart flutters too.

[love-fictional-ppl]

OH MY LORD PLEASE DO MORE ABOUT STONER BAKUSQUAD THAT WAS 'mwah' chefs kiss

xoxoxooxox thank you sm if you do xoxooxox

Omgg yesss I love stoner bakusquad. Tyy for the request loveeee

.·:*¨¨*:·. 𖣁 .·:*¨¨*:·.

Part 2 of this

༺♡︎༻

Summary: reader and quirkless au!Bakusquad are stoners

Pairings: platonic!katsuki bakugou x gn!bisexual!reader, platonic!Eijiro Kirishima x gn!bi!reader, platonic!pan!Denki Kaminari x gn!bi!reader, platonic!plug!hanta sero x gn!bi!reader, platonic!bi!mina ashido x gn!bi!reader, Eijiro Kirishima x bi!mina ashido, past!Hanta sero x bi!mina ashido, pan!Denki Kaminari x bi!plug!hitoshi Shinso

Warnings: language, Marijuana duh, vaping, alcohol, making out, shrooms, OF, masturbation, etc.

A/n: I was personally geeked writing part 1, so I forgot to actually include the vaping part lol. If you don’t know who Harold and kumar are, watch the movies.

༺♡︎༻

Ok so to start off, Sero’s day/night Job is deejaying. He’s actually really good at it. A lot of people would think this job would go to Denki but nope.

Speaking of Denki, he actually is a streamer. He reacts to people’s videos and plays horror games. He plays a lot of Roblox too.

Bakugou likes Sam & Colby. He’s liked them since trap boys. Honestly his favorite trap boy is Corey tho.

When Mina drinks she gets the spins really bad and throws up. Every single time. Without hesitation.

Denki cries sometimes when he’s drunk.

Kirishima greened out at the first smoke sesh.

Mina is seriously super horny when she messed up. She even convinced bakugou to make out with her while he was super stoned

Denki started vaping when you guys were in sophomore year, he eventually put u all on.

Bakugou had to bail Sero out of jail once, Sero was pulled over while he was making a delivery

Mina makes Kirishima take her to concerts, he trip sits her while she takes shrooms

Sero likes to watch cartoon network and adult swim when he’s stoned

Eventually, Shinso and Denki get together. You all excepted Shinso practically immediately, and invited him to the smoke seshs

Mina buys pink joint papers. The guys hate when she rolls up with them, except for Denki he loves them<3

Mina has an only fans. She isn’t embarrassed by it either. Denki has also watched her videos while jerking off

During smoke sesh’s you guys like to watch South Park. Sero likes to laugh and compare bakugou to cartman.

Sero has a unhealthy amount of bongs

Kirishima is the designated driver for after the hangouts. Whoever doesn’t just sleepover, he gives a ride.

Kirishima always makes a crap ton of snack when him and Mina host. Mina doesn’t like hosting tho.

Depending on how high bakugou is, he will let you play with his hair. It’s actually so soft.

Denki and Sero almost got kidnapped by Sero’s plug one time. It was Denki’s fault, he tried to still the guy’s knife.

Sero loves Shinso’s cat especially when he’s stoned he says he’s the group scooby doo. Shinso is forced to bring muffins(the cat) every time

Shinso also sells weed so Sero claims they’re competitors

Denki is so girly with his vapes it’s funny. Like this boy will kill for a minty Hyde. He also always has to tear apart his bed just to find the shit.

I think everybody agree and say bakugou and kirishima drink whiskey. Grown ahh ahh men💀

Bakugou literally will catnap when he is baked. He likes to sleep with his head on your thighs

Kirishima always brings blunt wraps since you and Denki always forgets to buy them. Baby boy kiri is a angel🥹😇

Reach in Sero’s couch cushions and you will find a kingdom of lighters

Denki says him and Sero are Harold And Kumar. Denki and you love those movies.

Sero’s kitchen is stocked on all your favorite foods and drinks.

༺♡︎༻

Not Proofread!

[addisonnie]

hinge and uhaul

summary: college!au. when all else fails…one must look for love on hinge!

an: hi! back from hiatus and of course it would be for a clump of pixels because i am down astronomically bad! this is the first part of a possible series! so let me know if a part 2 is warranted.

warnings: cursing, reader has 0 rizz shes literally a mess, reader also rambles and lots of this is just her inner dialogue because why not. also not very edited and possible tense shifts because im the worst!

part 2 ———————————

Tinder is a soul-sucking vortex. 

A nightmarish flurry of shirtless mirror selfies, conservatives, and men that look like they’d hit on your mom after walking you to the door. Switching your profile settings from ‘men’ to ‘everyone’ seemed like the best option; It wasn’t. The best option would’ve been to delete your account and light your phone on fire after receiving the fourth “you send?” message in a row.

Hinge is a smaller soul-sucking vortex. At least you can deny their comments before you embarrass yourself by matching with a douche like that. Your account is set to ‘show me everyone’ and you can only hope that ‘everyone’ includes at least some good ones. Swiping and clicking on dating apps seems to be more of a game than it is actual match-making, a time-passer of sorts. 

Your roommate, Dina, huffs loudly from her lofted bed across the room, “would you get your sorry ass off of that app? It’s sad listening to you moan and groan about all the losers!”

You roll your eyes, “my soulmate could be the next person!”

No. No. No, again. Oooh…yes? 

You swipe through the girl’s page before deciding not to match with her, because who’s Hinge bio states that they’re still in love with their ex? Dina cheers while you huff and slam your phone onto your desk, spinning idly in your chair. The television on top of Dina’s purple mini fridge is playing a random episode of Bob’s Burgers and, for a moment, you forget about your ever-growing dating app addiction.

It’s not that you’re addicted per say. You just spend most of your downtime sitting in your bed and judging people’s profiles, when yours surely isn’t up to par either. Hey, at least you don’t have a picture of you holding a fish.

The rhythmic buzz of your phone quickly draws your eyes away from the cartoon on screen, your hand dramatically reaching for your phone.

Hinge: Ellie liked you! Tap to see the comment she left.

Ellie. That’s a cute name…fairly normal too! Surely she didn’t leave some weirdo comment about how your hair looks like it smells good. Your fingers fumble to tap on the notification and you feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you click on Ellie’s like.

She left her comment under a picture of you taken at a local museum. A big cheesy grin is painted across your face and there’s skeletal remains of some random dinosaur behind you, Dina is crouched under the jaw of the creature pretending to scream while she gets eaten. Hopefully this isn’t one of those situations where Ellie asks ‘if your friend is single.’

Nope. She left a simple comment. I love dinosaurs!!!

You smile as you quickly click on Ellie’s profile to see her. There are a couple pictures of her, and good god is she hot. Flushed, you quickly match with her.

But what do you say? This is life or death. You need this woman. 

Hey!

You’re hot

Do you want to have vicious lesbian sex with me?

Okay. Jesus, you are not good at this. While you mull over the keyboard attempting to decide what to say to the ever-attractive Ellie, another message comes in.

Hey, pretty girl!

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Your fingers are fumbling over the keyboard, your heart is beating, you’re planning you and Ellie’s wedding. You wonder if she likes lace or prefers the classic look?

Hey! What’s up?

Nothing really. Just playing some guitar!

Guitar? She just gets hotter. Did she also save puppies from a burning building? You wonder if she would want roses at the wedding. Hopefully not, too basic.

Ooooh guitar you say? Whatcha playing?

It’s a few moments before she responds and you’re biting the nail on your thumb awaiting her reply.

Whatever your favorite song is.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you smile and rest your head in your hand. 

Why don’t I tell you that over dinner?

It takes Ellie a few minutes to respond this time and you’re sure you’ve managed to scare her off at the mention of an actual date. Her reply comes just as you go to turn your phone off,

How about you give me your number and we can talk more about this date?

————

Giving your number to Ellie was perhaps the best decision made in your life thus far. She constantly sends text messages of whatever she’s doing, wearing, eating, or strumming on her guitar. It’s been about a week since you first exchanged information and you’re slightly worried that Ellie no longer wishes to go out on a date. You’ve tried to ‘accidentally’ bump into her on campus multiple times, but she manages to just barely slip away each time. 

You’re sitting at your desk attempting to finish an essay when your phone rings in your lap. Ellie’s contact appears lit up on the screen and you just about scream when you grasp the phone between your fingers.

“Hello?” You’re already blushing.

“Hey, you! What’re you up to?” Ellie’s voice is loud into the microphone and you can make out multiple different voices on her end of the line.

“Nothing important,” you close your computer quickly, “why, what’s up?”

She takes a moment to answer as you hear her yell something to whoever else is in the room with her, “me and some friends are at a bar…will you come? Live music and stuff. Plus, I still haven’t taken you on that date!”

“Yes!” Okay, you probably should’ve tried to sound less excited. “Ehem…yes. Text me the address?”

You hear Ellie laugh before she happily responds, “will do! Text me when you get here and I’ll come out front to meet you.”

—————

Dina and her friends surely shop at Hookers R Us because where else would anybody find a skirt so goddamn short. 

“D. Dina. My cheeks are hanging out the bottom.” Dina rolls her eyes and tugs on the hem of the mini denim skirt.

“Well if you wore it down here,” she tugs the denim again, “instead of up to your tits like a grandma would…maybe it would be longer.”

Several shirts are thrown toward your perch on Dina’s desk chair, “what’s wrong with the shirt I have on?”

Dina’s boyfriend. Jesse, interjects, “because I don’t like it.”

“Okay, fashion police. How about this one?” You hold up a form fitting black top and Dina nods vigorously, “yes. But no bra. Show off them ladies!”

————

The Uber barely comes to a full stop as you clamber out of the backseat. Grasping for your phone, you text Ellie.

Here! :)

Was the smiley face overkill? Too much?

Cominh!!!!!

*Coming. Not drunk, I swear.

You think you’re the one doing the coming as you watch Ellie stroll towards you in the parking lot. If she was hot on Hinge, she’s ten-thousand times hotter in the dingy lighting that casts a magical glow upon her. She’s wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a white wife-beater, an old worn out flannel is unbuttoned over the top and rolled up just above her elbows. Her raggedy jeans are cuffed to the top of her converse and— wow is she a walking wet dream.

“Hey! I’m glad you came.” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she pulls you straight in for a hug, her calloused hands resting on your hips. You feel her finger tips touching the uncovered skin below your top, the contact makes you shiver.

Ellie squeezes you a little tighter before pulling away, leaving her arm draped over your shoulder, “c’mon, warmer inside.”

You let her lead you into the bar and through the slight crowd congregated near the entrance. A small group of people stand huddled next to the bar and Ellie leads you straight to them as she leans down to speak in your ear, “those are my friends.”

You nod and shamelessly nudge your body to be tucked further into her side, blushing profusely when you feel her arm tighten around your shoulders.

“Guys, this is the girl I was telling you about! And these are my friends I mentioned on the phone.” Ellie smiles while she introduces you to everyone and as much as you enjoy the domesticity of hanging out with her friends, you much prefer the nook you’ve found nestled under Ellie’s toned arm.

———

Her face leans down by your ear again, “wanna drink? I’ll get you one.”

You smile up at her, “would you shoot me if I said I want an espresso martini instead of the beer you’ve been nursing all night?”

She giggles into your ear and her breath fans across your face, “one espresso martini, coming up!” 

She pulls away and salutes you before turning around and marching to the other end of the bar, waving her arm to grab the bartender’s attention.

“So you’re the lucky lady? I’m Abby, Ellie’s friend.” Damn, she is buff as hell. Her toned arm stretches across a barstool to shake your hand.

You stare at her open palm, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that. Who still shakes hands? I’m done drinking for the night.”

She cracks a smile when you laugh and shake her hand anyways, “nothing wrong with a good ol’ handshake.”

You speak with Abby while you wait for Ellie to return with your martini. She’s leaning up against the wood and speaking to the bartender as he pours the concoction into a glass. How she manages to look so appealing at all times is an enigma. Her short hair is pulled half-up into a bun while the rest barely skims the top of her shoulders, the botanical tattoo on her forearm sticks out from under her rolled-up sleeve and—fuck. You’re drooling.

Double-fuck. She caught you staring.

You blush when she throws a wink your way, turning back toward the bar to grab your drink. 

And then she’s in front of you once more, “malady.”

She slides in between your legs while you sit atop the cushioned barstool (which you’re pretty sure makes a fart noise any time you move) and rests both of her hands on your hips.

Lifting the drink to your mouth, you hum happily when the flavor covers your tongue, “good?”

“Really good. Superb.” Ellie chuckles and leans in toward you, placing a kiss in the hollow of your collarbone, “c’mon, there’s some more people I want you to meet.”

————

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this position but good god do you wish you could die right here and right now. Ellie is leaning up against the poster-covered wall of the bar with you pulled tightly to her chest. Your back is pressed against her front and one of her arms is wrapped around you, long fingers splayed across your lower stomach. She’s talking animatedly to the guy standing in front of you two and in all honestly you can’t focus on what they’re talking about while you feel the tips of Ellie’s fingers rest upon the skin under your skirt. 

It’s innocent. She doesn’t realize her fingers have traveled just south of the top of your skirt, but you’d be lying if you said the feeling of her calloused fingertips below the belt didn’t make you squirm. Her auburn hair tickles the side of your face as your head rests back in the crook between her neck and shoulder. And even better—her cheek presses to the top of your head when there’s a lull in her current conversation.

Hearing the man she was speaking to bid his goodbyes, you turn in her arms. The one that was previously grasping a beer bottle quickly swaps to rest in the back pocket of your skirt instead, her other hand squeezes your hip.

“Hi.” She smiles at you.

“Hi.” You press a kiss to her cheek.

The feeling leaves Ellie warm and she squeezes you a few times before ultimately deciding to cut to the chase and lean in. It’s a sweet peck, a little tipsy kiss that leaves you buzzing and floating outside of your body. The bright, crooked smile she gives you after pulling away punches the air from your lungs and Jesus Christ— now you understand the U-Haul lesbians because in this moment you are well and truly fucked. If this woman, this stranger, asked you to pack your shit and move in, you would.

And the look she gives you as she brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear tells you she might just feel the same.

[sixlane]

Give it up

Jegulus microfic | 1.1k words | Mr & Mrs Smith au pt. 3 | pt. 1, pt. 2

“You fucked the whole thing up, James!” Regulus yells, angrily putting plates in the dishwasher.

“Love, they were five seconds from sticking that gun in your mouth and pulling the trigger. What would you have me do?”

These screaming matches aren’t out of the ordinary for them recently. They usually make a good team, but sometimes their methods of handling missions are a little too different. Regulus will say James doesn’t take enough risks, James will say Regulus is reckless with his life, they’ll fight but agree to leave it behind them by morning. James doesn’t want to leave it behind them anymore.

“Nothing! I had it under control!” Regulus is gesticulating dramatically, too lost in himself to bother controlling his arms. 

“That did not look like having it under control. You were blindfolded and bound to a fucking chair!” 

“I had them right where I wanted them. Stupid men will tell you all their secrets if they think you’re dead anyway.” Regulus turns the sink on its hottest level and begins furiously scrubbing at a pot from the stove.

“He wasn’t ever going to talk, Regulus, you have to realize that. He was just playing with his fucking food!” 

James doesn’t think he’s ever been more angry. The mission had been going well. They were playing off each other perfectly, so in sync it was exhilarating, until Regulus went and got himself kidnapped, telling James “trust me” and “I can get more out of this guy just give me an hour.” It had only taken James 15 minutes to find his location and kill everyone who had even looked at Regulus wrong.

“Don’t fucking condescend me like that. I knew what I was doing. Why can’t you ever do as you’re fucking told?” Regulus drops the pot into the sink and turns around, staring at James with a wild look. God he’s beautiful when he’s angry.

“Because you’re not in charge! We’re supposed to be a team, Regulus. The mission was over, we got we needed and you still wanted to risk your life for more. There was no point!”

“It’s called being good at your job, James. Maybe you should try it sometime.” 

James rolls his eyes. “Oh don’t give me that shit, you do remember I have more kills than you, right? Says it right there on the fridge.” James points to the alphabet magnets they stuck up there a few months ago. It’s a game they’ve been playing. Keeping track of who has more so at the end of each month the loser has to take the winner out on a date. Well, James has been calling them dates. Regulus prefers to call them “work dinners.” 

“How could I forget? You’ve been rubbing it in for the last three months in a row you arrogant fucking asshole!”

“Aw love don’t get jealous. I’ll let you win next month if you want. Take you someplace real nice.” The sarcasm is heavy in James’ voice as he leans on the island with both hands. Regulus’ eyes briefly focus on his forearms before he turns back to the sink, taking his anger out on the pot again.

“You’re fucking impossible,” he says. “I’m done with this conversation.”

“No you’re not.” James says, coming around the island to stand next to Regulus. “No more ignoring this, Regulus, we have a problem, let's fix it like adults.”

Regulus drops the pot again and turns off the water, taking a deep breath. “Fine.”

James takes that as his cue to speak. “You hate not having control. You hate to admit you’re wrong and you hate when I have to save you.” He can see Regulus’ face getting hotter with each word.

“Okay, we’re doing this. How about you?” Regulus shoves a finger into James’ chest. “You can’t stand it when I’m right. You hate when I take risks and they pan out and you hate that the agency values me more because of it.”

James swats his hand away, starts closing in. “Fuck the angency, they don’t matter.”

“They do matter, James. They’re everything!” Regulus is yelling again.

“Not to me!”

“Then why are you even here?”

“For you!” Regulus stops, mouth hanging open. “If it weren’t for you I would’ve packed it up a long time ago, but you matter to me, Regulus. You matter to me more than the missions or the money. I am here for you!”

“James—”

“No, don't tell me this is strictly professional or that we’re just partners because it’s been more than that for a long time and you know it.”

“I—” He’s staring at James with giant gray eyes, mouth opening and closing around words that won’t come.

“Just have me, Regulus. I’m already yours, anyway.”

 “You fucking asshole,” Regulus whispers around what could be a sob. James can’t tell because Regulus’ fingers are in his hair, pulling him down until their lips clash.

It’s chaste, but intense. Their mouths stay closed but they press into each other like there’s nowhere else they could possibly be.

After a minute, Regulus pulls back slightly, breathing in short bursts. He is crying, James realizes as he feels the wetness on his own face.

“Regulus,” James tries, bringing his hands to cradle the other man’s face.

“Shut up,” He returns, kissing James again, but with something new. Something hungry. He kisses James like a man starved and James doesn’t let a second of it go to waste.

He lifts Regulus off the ground and deposits him on the island, standing in between his legs and urging Regulus to wrap them around him. He slots his hands under Regulus’ shirt and traces his spine, like Regulus did to him all those months before.

Regulus gasps, needy as James moves down his neck, alternating between sharp teeth and soothing tongue. Savoring the places Regulus has kept hidden from him all this time. 

Regulus detaches James briefly to take off his shirt, dropping it to the floor, before moving James’ head down to his chest, where James realizes for the first time that he has a small tattoo of a star on his left pectoral. He kisses it gently, then runs his tongue around a peaked nipple, earning a whine from Regulus, who has his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches intently, like he’ll forget if he doesn’t record every second. 

James makes a mess of his chest, covering it in bruises and spit. When he’s happy with his work and Regulus is a wordless mess, he lifts him off the counter, opting to finish him off in the bedroom.

On soft sheets, Regulus lets James show him all the ways he matters. By the end of the night, James makes sure he believes in them.

[juleswritesstuff]

Girl got a gun

What happens when a particularly dangerous situation forces you to face your feelings for the man that was only supposed to be your arranged husband?

MafiaBoss!RegulusBlack x MafiaBoss!Reader

Warnings: blood, slightly descriptive murder, gun violence.

Nothing is really described in too much detail, but I thought best to put some warnings anyway. Enjoy 💗

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

That was the only noise resonating in the air. The heels of your shoes making contact with the marble floor of your house. 

Your shoulders slouched just the tiniest bit as you stepped foot in the living room.

You were tired of dealing with stupid men all day. Men that didn’t recognize your position in the business. 

‘I'm really sorry Mrs Black, but we were told that your husband would be the one hosting the meeting.’

‘Well, it’s my properties we are discussing here. And Mr Black was busy’

‘But Mrs Black-’

‘It’s Miss Y/l/n, Mr Malfoy. I didn't take my husband's name, and I never will.’ you said coldly.

Silence fell in the room.

‘It doesn’t matter Miss, you’re part of the Black family now, therefore all your belongings are now in the hands of Mr Black’

You were starting to get pissed, your expression hard.

You took out your phone with a sigh and started dialing a number that became very familiar in the span of the past two years.

Behind you James and Remus exchanged a knowing glance. 

One ring.

They had been with you for the past seven years and they knew you like the back of their hand. They knew shit was about to go down.

Two rings.

Three rings.

‘Yes, darling ?’

That voice made everyone freeze, sitting straight like he was there with them. 

Their eyes now held a veil of worry and fear.

The corners of your mouth perked up a little, but, at the same time, a feeling of anger settled in the pit of your stomach. 

Why couldn’t they respect you like they respected your husband ?

You quickly let the feeling fade. It wasn’t the time.

‘Sorry to bother, Regulus dear. These gentlemen here are asking why you’re not the one hosting the meeting. They’re saying that since I'm married to you all my properties and belongings are now yours.’

You said looking straight at Lucius Malfoy. You were too kind to tell him the exact names of the people that were making your day very difficult, otherwise you knew Regulus would’ve done something about it. But you needed all of them to be alive and with all four limbs so that the business would run smoothly.

‘Well, love, even if you’re married to me your family businesses and properties are still yours. I don't have any desire to steal your righteous spot as the head of the Y/l/n family. Everything is and will remain under your name. That is why you are the one hosting the meeting, as you righteously should’

The smirk on your lips turned into a pleased smile.

Before you could add something else and say goodbye his voice filled the vast room again.

‘Why ? Do these gentlemen have a problem with that ?’ he asked in a firm tone, sharp at the edges.

Your smile grew seeing the panic in their eyes.

They started to vehemently shake their heads.

‘No, honey. Don’t worry. Just a quick explanation to clear any doubt.’

Their shoulders relaxed a bit after the words left your mouth, but the look of anxiety never fully disappeared from their eyes.

‘Sorry if I bothered you, I’ll go now. Let you focus on your work’

A light chuckle could be heard from the other line.

‘You could never bother me, love’ he said warmly. You could hear the soft smile on his lips.

The curve on your mouth was now a little timid, but you made sure not to let the men in front of you see that.

‘I'll leave you to it now. See you at home, dear’ you said, your tone a bit softer despite yourself.

‘See you later, baby’

The pet name made your stomach churn, but, again, you pretended like nothing happened.

You were about to hang up when he spoke again.

‘Oh, before I forget, I suggest to all the gentlemen present in the room not to question my wife ever again. Or I promise there will be consequences‘ his voice now completely firm and intimidating.

And with that he hung up.

Mr Malfoy visibly swallowed.

But he clearly wasn’t the only one being affected by Regulus’ words.

No one dared to utter a word after the call, and the meeting went on smoothly.

Two years ago you would’ve never thought of getting married.

You were only twenty, the only thing on your mind was to finish college and then enter the family business.

But being part of one of the most powerful families in England was a tough job.

You were the youngest child, so, technically, you weren’t expected to run the business, but life, as you were about to learn, never went as you planned to.

In the span of two years you lost both your brother and your father.

Your mother had died when you were five. You didn’t remember a lot of it, but there was an image stuck in your brain of a bullet being shot in her head right in front of you and blood everywhere. At least it was a recurring dream, but you could swear you remembered the sensation of your skin and clothes being covered in the red, metallic liquid.

Your father had always tried to convince you that it was just a dream, a nightmare, but you could see the pain in your brother’s face every time you talked about it. 

You were young but you weren’t stupid.

Your father spoiled you growing up, he gave you everything you wanted, you just had to mention it. But toys, clothes and jewelry weren't things you really wanted.

You wanted to be part of the family business and not be just a spoiled, little girl who came from a rich and powerful family.

Your brother trained you for this. You had asked him the day of your 14th birthday. Surprisingly he agreed. He thought you needed to know how to defend yourself, and he also knew that your brain could be a wonderful weapon. 

What you didn’t expect was your brother being taken away from you when you were eighteen. 

His body was found in the back of one of the casinos your family owned, his head split in two by a bullet and his throat slit. An execution.

At that time the world collapsed on you, your main firm point had been killed and you were lost. He had always been by your side, no matter what. And now he just wasn’t here anymore.

Getting back up wasn’t an easy task, but you were a Y/l/n and you needed to pull your shit back together.

Luckily, James and Remus were there for you. They had been your bodyguards for four years, and they became a constant in your life. Even though they were so young, the same age as you really, they were the best at their job.

They helped you with your training when your brother died, just like your father had instructed them. You spent so much time with them that you considered them your friends more than your bodyguards.

Things started to get better after some time, but just as you thought you were finally doing fine, the news of your father's illness made all of your hopes crumble.

A few months before he passed away he had called you in his room and to give you the news.

He wanted you to get married.

To the youngest of the Blacks.

You had refused, at first. Marriage wasn’t on your mind at that moment, especially not an arranged one.

You knew about the Ancient and most Noble House of Black, everyone knew who they were. One of the most influential and powerful families in England, if not in the whole United Kingdom.

But your father had begged you.

‘Y/n, please think about it. I am dying, this is the reality and everything will be in your hands when the day comes’

‘So you don’t think that I could make it on my own ?’

‘Oh, sweetie, I'm more than sure of it’ 

He said with a proud but tired smile.

‘Then why ?’

‘I want you to be safe, and he could be a big help with that’

‘I know how to defend myself, dad. And I also have Remus and James’

‘I don’t mean safe in that way’

A confused frown appeared in your face

‘Y/n, this…business is dangerous. I didn't expect you to be in the middle of it at all. Your brother was meant to take over one day, but unfortunately the day never came and it will never come, so it’s your turn now. And I know that you will do a wonderful job, but I can't let you do it alone. You need someone on your side, someone who you can trust blindly when I cannot be there anymore.’

‘And you think Regulus Black could be that person ?’

Saying that you were skeptical was an understatement.

‘Yes, I firmly believe that. He’s been one of my most trusted collaborators, I am sure he will treat you right. He promised me.’

Your head snapped up, eyes on him.

‘You talked to him before talking to me ?’

Your father sighed.

‘I had to. I had to make sure he would accept and that he would be the right choice’

You stared at him in disbelief.

‘And he agreed ?’ you asked bewildered.

‘He did. Without hesitation’

‘So this is already decided’ you sighed, defeated.

‘I am sorry, sweetheart. I must make sure that you are safe and protected under all aspects’

So that's how you found yourself betrothed to Regulus Black.

At the beginning you hated the idea, but then you gave it some thought. 

You knew how the mafia world worked. Everything was about respect and power. Regulus Black had both, while you were just a spoiled little girl who had just inherited all of her father's businesses. 

In the end, you decided, you could’ve used his help.

The first time you met was a week after your talk with your father.

You knew Regulus by fame. He was the youngest of his family, being only 23 years old, but he was the one ruling it, taking Sirius Black's, his older brother, place as he,  apparently, had a very smart brain and an inclination to persuasion. He was clever, ambitious and incredibly resourceful. He was a rouler, a king. 

You had also heard about his looks, his appearance being the center of a lot of the  gossip you heard in the clubs. Voices of ebony black curls and eyes that resembled the coldest and grayest of storms.

So you had expected someone good looking.

What you had not expected was that he was more than good looking.

The man in front of you was handsome, gorgeous even. 

He looked like he could’ve been part of the most majestic of frescos if he hadn’t been right in front of your eyes in flesh and bones at that moment.

But you didn’t let his appearance deceive you. It didn’t matter if you found the man beautiful, you needed to trust him above all.

‘Miss Y/l/n it’s a pleasure to meet you’

His voice was smooth and almost honey-like, very calm and composed. 

‘Please, you can drop the formalities Mr Black, we’re gonna be married soon anyway. You can call me Y/n’ you said, extending your hand for him to shake. A formal greeting.

‘I believe this is the reason you wanted to meet. Oh, and, please, call me Regulus’

He took your hand in his, shaking gently. The smile on his face could only be described as sincere.

His hands were delicate and smooth with slender fingers adorned by several rings.

Certainly not what you expected from the hands of a mafia leader.

‘Yes, there are certain things that I would like to discuss with you before the wedding. If i am allowed’

A curious expression appeared on his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

‘You are always allowed to say whatever is on your mind Miss Y/l/n’

Your eyebrows lifted the slightest bit in surprise. You hadn’t expected the youngest of the Blacks to be this…polite.

You had expected a young, spoiled brat who had too much power and liked to play with it. You thought he would tell you to follow his rules and nothing more.

You certainly didn’t expect him to be this condescending.

‘I accept to become your bride…’ you started, but he sensed that you probably weren’t finished.

‘But…’ he added.

He definitely understood that there was something more.

So you went on.

‘But...there are conditions’ 

You met his eyes and you were surprised to find them already focused on you. 

They were calm, collected, if not a little warm. A stark contrast with their gray hue.

‘Please tell me. I’ll do whatever is in my power to make sure your needs are met’

For a moment you just stared at him, studying him. And you were surprised to find nothing but honesty in his eyes.

So you went back to talking.

‘I want to keep my family name’

That was important for you. You were about to become the head of the family, and you didn’t want anyone else's name on the properties. It was also the only thing that would keep you connected to your family after the wedding. Officially you would’ve become part of Noble house of Black, but you still wanted to have power over what was yours. Which brought you the second point.

‘And I will maintain the power over my businesses’

Another important thing was maintaining your position as the boss. The main reason you accepted to get married was because he would help you maintain your status, not to give your title to him. That was not negotiable.

After that you remained silent. You wanted to let him think, but not even ten seconds later he spoke.

‘Is that all ?’ 

He asked calmly, with genuine curiosity in his voice. His hand propped under his chin supporting his head, elbow on the table. The stance made him look even more attractive than he already was.

Then his eyes landed on yours and he gave a tiny nod.

‘I agree to both’

Your eyes widened a little as the words left his mouth. Of course you hadn’t expected him to just refuse on the spot, but those were requests that could cost him some of his power and possibly the loyalty of some of his collaborators, especially as the head of the family, and a loss of properties. And yet he didn’t hesitate to agree.

Maybe your father was right. Regulus Black could be trusted.

You could see the faces of the men accompanying Regulus behind him, and they seemed rather amused by the whole thing.

Suddenly a phone started ringing.

Only when his gaze landed on your figure they softened the tiniest bit.

Regulus patted the left side of his jacket to fish out a phone from the inner pocket. Looking at the contact name his face changed radically. His soft and gentle features hardened, jaw tense and eyes suddenly cold.

‘Excuse me Miss Y/l/n, apparently my brother needs me’ 

You nodded and he brought the phone to his ear.

‘Sirius. Yes. Ok. Then find a solution. Fine, I'll be there in twenty. Try to handle it while I’m on the way’

And then he hung up.

‘I’m really sorry Y/n, but there is an important matter that suddenly came up’

‘Of course, I understand’

You both stood up and with a handshake you said your goodbyes.

But before he could walk out of the room you called his name.

‘Regulus ?’

He turned around.

‘Yes ?’

‘I am putting my trust in you. Don’t make me regret it’

A small smile appeared on his lips. His eyes held a warm look. 

‘I promise you won’t, Y/n’

And with that he left.

The day of your wedding wasn’t how you had expected it. Just a small ceremony with the Black family and the Y/L/N family, or what remained of it, united. No vows, no kissing the bride, no big ceremony.

Just a formula pronounced by the priest and then the blood oath. A union that could not be broken. Both you and Regulus cut the palm of your hands with a sacred knife, then shook hands so that your blood could mix together and form a bond stronger than any ring.

That was the day your life changed.

For the better or for the worse you couldn’t tell.

You started taking care of the family business, attending meetings, keeping everything on track, lots of travels to go and meet all of your father’s international collaborators and, apart from the occasional fights that happened at the clubs and people (men) constantly questioning your position as boss just because you were a young woman, you were handling it well.

What you weren’t handling the best way was your role as a wife.

You and Regulus started to get to know one another by force of things. Living in the same house you couldn’t ignore each other for too long, and it sure wasn’t your intention. You were married to him, you couldn't ignore each other till the end of your days.

And so thought he.

At the beginning it was a bit awkward. 

Sharing space with a person you didn’t really know was less than pleasing, but with the passing of time it became easier. You slowly learned each other’s habits and routines, likes and dislikes, for example how he loved his coffee black with two spoons of sugar, because despite being a cold hearted mafia boss he had a huge sweet tooth, or how when he was stressed he started rubbing his left temple. Never the right, always the left. 

Or how he fidgeted with his rings when he was thinking.

For you, sleeping was especially uncomfortable. You had always slept alone, so suddenly sharing a bed with another person made you feel slightly uneasy. You didn’t sleep much during the first month, only being able to fall asleep out of exhaustion after a week of staying up every night.

But then you got used to his presence beside you, almost turning the tables because after nine months of living together the only nights you couldn’t sleep were the one where he was out dealing with his business.

During those nights you missed the feeling of having him by your side, telling you how his day had been, or when your arms would brush by mistake, sending shivers down your spine.

Your relationship was peculiar, to say the least.

At the beginning of your marriage you decided to adopt a strategy so that anyone would believe that you were a close-knit couple. And that’s how the pet names started.

What better way to show somebody that you were in love ?

At the top of the list there would’ve been physical touch, but neither you nor Regulus were fans of PDA, so pet names would do.

You used them especially during calls. It was rare for you to be both at the same meeting, but when you needed each other's opinion a call was more than welcome.

At the beginning they didn't affect you, it was just a strategy to show that you were close and powerful together, that now you were one.

But when you started to get to know Regulus things changed. 

Your feelings changed.

Because he was the first to actually take your thoughts and opinions to consideration, he was the first one to ask for your ideas. You discussed things together, you were equals.

Your view of him started to change.

He was kind to you, he always made sure that you were comfortable and understood, he had the kind of sarcasm that would make you laugh so hard that you couldn’t even feel your cheeks.

So it wasn't a surprise to you when you started to feel a certain warmth when he called you ‘baby’ or ‘love’ or any other endearment, or when you were in the kitchen and he lightly put his hand on the small of your back to pass behind you, or when you stared at each other for a little too long, or when his hand found yours during dinner and galas to make sure that you were always by his side.

Small touches became ordinary, an everyday thing, a sign that you were more than comfortable with the other's presence.

One thing you never did in two years of marriage, though, was kissing.

Your lips never touched, not even at the altar.

Both of you knew that what was between you two wasn't a marriage of convenience anymore. The things you both felt for the other were definitely something more than that, the little touches, the longing stares, the need to protect each other. It was more than what it used to be.

But, no matter what, you had never kissed. It felt like crossing a line of some sort, and, apparently, neither of you was ready for that.

The leaders of two of the most powerful mafia families of the United Kingdom acted like middle schoolers around each other because they were both cowards.

Funny, wasn’t it ?

The good thing was that now, you considered the house you shared together your home.

At first it was hard. It was a new place for you, and you had to share it with a person  you didn't really know. It felt more like hell on earth. But after two years you could finally consider the place your home.

The same home you had just returned to. With your shoulders slightly slouched because of the anger and tension of your meeting with all those shitty businessmen that couldn't seem to respect you, you took off your heels, feeling the cold floor beneath your feet. You headed to your bedroom to take off the dress you were wearing, and to put on something more comfortable.

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you noticed it was way past eight. Regulus’ meeting was supposed to end at seven forty. You furrowed your eyebrows.

He must have stayed a little bit longer to talk with the Prewett siblings who were close friends of yours.

You walked to the kitchen, deciding to cook something.

You were starving and you were sure Regulus was too.

As soon as you started chopping the vegetables you heard the door open.

Regulus was home.

"Hey Y/n" he said. His voice was unusually breathless and almost pained.

You turned around still chopping the carrot on your tray.

"Hi, I'm making something to eat so-"

The words died in your throat when you took in his figure and noticed his state.

He was covered in blood.

It was on his shirt, his pants, jacket and shoes.

Even his face hadn’t been spared as the little stains and smudges of red blood contrasted with the fair complection of his skin.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

"Oh fuck, Reggie" you didn’t even notice the nickname leaving your lips, breath knocked out of your lungs as you dropped the knife and ran to him.

"What happened ? Are you hurt ?" 

You didn't even let him speak, you started analyzing his body looking for wounds, scratches, bullet holes, even the smallest of paper cuts would’ve sent you spiraling in that moment.

You hoped to find none of those.

"Hey, hey" he stopped your hands from roaming his chest, taking them in his.

"Hey, look at me"

His voice was rather calm for the situation you were in.

You locked eyes with him, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

"I’m fine" he assured you, keeping eye contact.

"But, the blood-"

"The blood is not mine, love. Don’t worry" 

The endearment would've made you blush if he hadn't been dripping blood on your floor.

But that was not the main focus at that moment.

"Did someone attack you ?" you asked.

It wasn't uncommon for some rival families to organize attacks to the clubs you owned or to some of your minor collaborators, but no one ever tried to attack the head of the clan. It would’ve been too risky, too reckless. Basically a suicide.

Apparently things were changing.

He nodded to your question.

"An ambush" 

You sighed.

"Where ?" 

"We were on the road, no specific place"

"Any pattern that could lead to a specific clan ?" 

"None that i noticed" 

"Did they follow you ?"

"Almost certainly" 

"Are you hurt ?" you asked, blood pumping fast in your veins. You knew there were people on their way to come and kill both of you probably, but you needed to make sure that he was alright.

"Y/n that's not-"

"Are you hurt ?" you asked again a little louder. Your tone firm and steady.

"No, I am not hurt" he answered, looking straight into your eyes, hands on your cheeks as his thumbs started stroking gently.

"Ok, we need to hide before-"

Regulus never managed to finish his sentence because bullets started flying right into your kitchen.

You both ducked under the furniture, hoping it would protect you just long enough to get your weapons out.

"Third drawer on the left !” you shouted.

Regulus stood a little bit, just enough to move his feet and drag himself near the drawer, taking out your only chance of survival.

"Baby !" he shouted above the sound of bullets flying above your heads, throwing you a gun.

You didn't pay too much attention to the pet name, your lives were at risk.

He took a gun as well and put two loaders in the pockets of his pants, throwing you two more.

You both loaded your guns and then all hell broke loose.

You shot two men right in the head, wounded another one on the shoulder while Regulus finished him, then killed two other men.

But they were too many for just two people, even if the people were as skilled as you and your husband.

"We need cover !" Regulus screamed.

He was right, you would've never come out alive if it was just you two.

You hoped James and Remus had their phones with them.

Lucky for you James answered immediately.

"Miss Y/l/n, is everything alright ?" he asked. 

Jesus, how many times did you have to tell him to drop the formalities ? 

"Not really, James. They’re shooting us."

"Hang in there, Y/n. Remus and I are coming" 

"Hurry up, please. We're running out of ammos" 

"Give us five minutes"

"You have three" 

And then you hung up.

You turned to Regulus who had just dodged a bullet and had planted another two in one of the man's head.

This wasn't exactly how you imagined your day would end, covered in blood and with bullets risking to kill you every five seconds.

You were so lost in your thoughts for a moment that you hadn't noticed a gun pointed directly at you from afar. 

The only thing you heard was the sound of a bullet being fired, but it never came.

Regulus’ inhumanly fast reflexes prevented you from being hit.

He launched himself onto you, tackling you on the floor right behind the island of the kitchen.

As soon as you understood what had happened, you turned to your husband who was now sitting beside you.

"Shit, Reggie, are you hurt ? Did he get you ?" you asked frantically, panic in your eyes and voice as you cradled his face in your hands, tracing his cheeks with your thumb in a frenzy.

He looked at you with a look that you couldn't read, he was staring directly at your soul. 

He didn't say anything, didn’t talk.

He just took your hands in his and placed them on his chest, right above his heart.

A confused look adorned your features.

“No” he breathed simply “no, they didn’t”

And it felt like you could breathe again.

You let out a long exhale, and you could feel your eyes start to water, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks at the mere thought of losing Regulus.

But he was fine.

He was in front of you, and he was fine. 

He was alive.

And then, like he was hit by a sudden epiphany, he lifted his arms to gently stroke your cheeks, before crashing your lips together in the most urgent, earth shattering kiss you had ever had.

Your brain didn’t have time to process what was happening because your body responded first, and what could you do if not kiss him back, just as strongly, just as fiercely, like it could be your last kiss ever.

You couldn’t hear guns shooting anymore, there were no more bullets flying around, everything was suddenly muted, just white noise surrounding the two of you. 

When you pulled back the world started spinning again, the noise and the battle surrounding you filling your ears, but his hands never left your face.

It could’ve been the end of the world and wouldn’t have given less than a shit.  There were just his lips on yours, his hand on your cheek and your hearts beating together.

"I’m sorry, I had to do it. Even just once, before I died" he said, eyes still glued to yours.

“Don’t you even dare say that word Regulus, don’t you even fucking think about it” you said through gritted teeth, voice shaking.

The hand on your cheek went to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as his thumb stroked your cheekbone softly.

“You have nothing to worry about, my love" he whispered with a smile on his face "I can't die before I get to taste your lips again”

You let out an incredulous chuckle, your shoulders shaking despite yourself.

“I hate you” you said, not an ounce of hatred in your voice.

“And i love you” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world, like you weren’t surrounded by people who wanted you dead, like the place you had started to consider your home wasn’t being destroyed by bullets and guns.

You were almost sure you heard James and Remus shout your name, a clear sign that they had arrived.

And yet you couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the man in front of you, a man you never expected to fall in love with. He hadn’t been part of your perfectly programmed life before everything went to shit. He was brought into your exitence when you needed him the most, and now you weren’t sure if there was even a life without him in it.

You liked to think that your father knew what he was doing when he chose him to be your future husband. He had always had a talent for reading people.

“I love you, too” you said, just like that. As simple as a breath of fresh air.

Such a mob boss thing to do, confessing your feelings in the middle of flying bullets and blood.

But it didn’t matter, because Regulus' eyes became the softest you had ever witnessed, and the smile on his face was genuine. Just for you.

It died down quickly when you heard the gunfire getting closer to you.

His face lost every trace of softness, becoming cold, calculating and focused.

“Stay here and give me cover. Don’t let them see you” he said, kissing your cheek before sliding smoothly on the other side of the kitchen island.

You nodded.

“I swear, if you die I'm gonna kill you” you told him, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Doesn’t sound very logical, baby. But I'll try my best not to” he said as the corner of his lips lifted up in a smirk, before firing his gun and diving back into the battle.

A man appeared next to you, and, before he could even breathe, you put a bullet through his head. 

You located another one aming right at Regulus with his weapon. You took the knife you had been using to cut the vegetables mere minutes earlier and shoved it right in his throat before he could pull the trigger.

You preferred bladed weapons over anything, but they weren’t really useful when your opponent had a gun.

You could see Remus and James taking out eight men at once, joined by Regulus’ bodyguards Barty and Evan.

You threw the knife right at a man’s heart, and shot two others right in their skull.

And then everything turned quiet.

No more shooting, no more screaming.

Just silence broke by your ragged breathing, and a bunch of bodies covered in blood on your floor.

For a heartbeat or two everything was silent, except for the ring in your ears and the furious thumping of your heart in your chest.

Suddenly you heard the bang of a gun.

Regulus-

You could see James and Remus in front of you, alive and breathing. Barty and Evan were a few steps away.

Regulus.

Your blood ran cold.

Your world stopped.

No.

No no no no no no no no.

“Next time you try to kill my wife think twice about it”

You turned around so fast that your neck might've as well snapped. But you didn't care because you had to see, you had to make sure that-

Regulus was alive.

He was alive.

And he wasn't bleeding.

He wasn't injured.

He was fine.

He was breathing.

Only then air filled your lungs again.

He was standing next to a man, hovering above him in all his height.

His gun was smoking and pointing at the man's arm which was now bleeding on the floor and stretched in your direction. He had tried to shoot you.

Regulus’ foot was right on his throat, expensive black shoe covered in red and pushing mercilessly down, making all the little bones crack.

His face was stone cold, not a sign of emotion in his features.

“Actually, how about you never think again at all”

With a swift motion Regulus directed the gun to the man's head, then pulled the trigger.

And, finally, everything was over.

There was blood everywhere, corpses on the floor, and you would clearly have to move from that house seeing the wreckage that was left of it.

But for now you didn't care.

For now everything that mattered was that Regulus was in front of you, just a few feet away.

Alive and breathing.

And that was enough.

You immediately dropped the gun you had been holding.

It fell with a loud ‘tunk’ as you ran towards the man that had stolen your heart without even trying to.

Your body collided with his in a desperate hug. Your arms flying to circle his neck, hands diving in his soft, ebony locks.

His arms were around your waist, holding you tight, like he never wanted to let you go.

And, well, neither did you.

You let go just enough to step back a little, to look into his eyes that were a color as cold as ice, but held so much warmth for you.

Your hands caressed his face, his found home on your hips, and in a flash, your lips collided.

And it was everything.

It was fireworks. The bloom of spring. The first summer rain. The taste of happiness.

The feeling of love.

All in a mouth so soft and sweet, and, at the same time, so urgent and needy.

Regulus’ mouth.

You wanted to melt, and maybe you did a little.

When your lips parted and your head tilted back a little, you were met with the most love-struck gaze you ever had the pleasure to witness.

A gaze you were sure matched with yours.

“Are you ok ?” he asked, running his eyes all over your face, and stepping back to check your body too.

“I'm fine, Reg, don't worry. Just some little scratches here and there” you reassured him, taking his hand into yours and slotting your fingers together “how about you ?”

“Me too, nothing to worry about” he said as he tightened the hold on your hand just the slightest bit.

‘I'm fine’ the gesture is meant to say ‘we are fine’.

And that was all you needed .

“I meant that” he suddenly spoke up, stopping in front of you.

Your eyebrow slightly furrowed in confusion.

Your hands were still laced together when your foreheads met with a gentle touch.

“When I told you that I love you. I mean that, I really do” his voice was barely a whisper, and it made you smile how vulnerable he sounded.

“I do, too. So much” you told him with the most sincere expression on your face.

He broke into a tiny smile.

You did, too.

And then you were kissing again.

And it got better every time.

“I can't believe it took you a near death experience to confess your love for each other” you heard Barty mumble from across the room.

“I suggest you shut up if you wanna keep your job, Crouch” Regulus warned him, but his voice lacked the bite completely.

Barty just rolled his eyes, as both you and your husband dived right back into a kiss.

“I need a raise” you heard Remus sigh, defeated, before everything tuned out.

Everything, except Regulus’ lips on yours.

[sluttyhusband]

Chris and Henry being proud of their introverted boyfriend who is an actor and director who got an award for his first movie he directed and acted in. They take him home to show him how proud they are of him.

JEJRNWJEIE SO MUCH SHIT OH EM GEE

After you’ve won the award, they’re both showing you off the entire night, being all like “this is our bf m/n who just won an award cuz he’s great and amazing”

And the car ride home they’re both just saying how proud of you they are and giving you light soft kisses

It isn’t until you’re getting ready for bed that they do something

You wear the usual Chris’s shirt and Henry’s sweats

But they’re both in bed, absolutely naked, except for just a bowtie

And Henry’s using that voice that gets you hard as steel. Saying, “and the winner of the juiciest ass goes to… m/n l/n”

And Chris also uses his voice that gets you going to say, “m/n, please come up here to claim your award”

And you’re all just so blushy and everything. And as you get closer they stop you, and both say at the same time, “there’s a dress code sir”, and they make you strip in front of them and they hand you possibly the tiniest two piece set ever

It was a bra and thong, and it was all just strings to be honest, they helped you get into it. But focused more help on the thong. The bra was practically two tiny triangle of fabric being held together by some string, same for the thong

And Henry seats you in his lap, his cock already hard and in between your thighs, right up against your own hard cock. Chris, still with that voice asks, “m/n, how would you like thank the voting committee?”

And you notice that your foot is right within perfect distance of Chris’ cock. So being the fucker that you are, you immediately start giving Chris a footjob. And Chris let’s out a broken moan as he loses his balances sitting on his knees, so he decides to sit regularly

Chris speaks through his moans, “what else would you like to say to the committee?”, and you look down between your thighs, Henry’s hard cock is twitching and leaking pre. You look up at Henry, and Henry gives him a warning look, “don’t you even think about it”

And you immediately do it anyway, taking your index finger and rubbing it on Henry’s tip. This method always drives Henry absolutely wild and makes him a complete sub mess in your hands

Henry speaks through his moans, “baby please, please don’t do this to me, your daddies really want to show you how proud we are of you”, your continues his actions as Henry tries to buck his hips

The sounds of Chris’ and Henry’s whines and moans made you hard yourself, you wanted to continue this, but you also wanted to get fucked

So you stopped and let the two men regain their composure, Henry speaks up, “that was certainly a great acceptance act, but we can’t forget the most important part of an award, the reward”

And with that, Henry pushes you up onto your knees and stomach, Chris slides underneath you, cock placed perfectly in front of your lips

Henry on the other hand, admires the sight in front of him. He thinks it’s cute how the thong’s string doesn’t try at all to cover up your hole

He dives into your hole and you let out a moan, giving Chris the chance to slide his cock in your mouth

The three of you stay like this for a minute before Chris is cumming and Henry slides his cock in you. You haven’t swallowed yet and you and Chris share a kiss with his load going between your mouth and his

Henry feels himself cum and then him and Chris switch places. Henry’s cock sliding smoothly in and out of your mouth

It’s the same with Henry, he cums and you two share a kiss, but with a bit left over of Chris’ cum, Henry saying how good he tastes as he gives him a quick kiss

Chris cums and they both lie next to you. Henry asks, “What can make this night better?”, he says. You think for a while, and a little smirk appears on your face, “You and Chris fool around”, and they obviously don’t reject the idea

Chris moves over to where Henry is, they both initiate a heated make out session, both men moaning and their cocks hardening again. “Let’s give our baby a show”, says Chris

Chris kisses his way down Henry’s body and takes Henry’s cock in his mouth and Henry moans. Soon Henry’s flooding Chris’ mouth with his cum. Chris goes up and makes out with Henry once again, sharing his cum

They switch positions and now Henry’s kissing down Chris’ body as he takes Chris’ cock in his mouth. Chris moans and grabs you and kisses you. “Love making your daddies play with each other? Little slut, knew what you were doing when you started bringing him over huh?”

Chris continued kissing you, moaning into kiss as he felt himself cum in Henry’s mouth. Henry sat up, “Don’t forget about me”, Henry grabbed Chris’ chin and kisses the man, he did the same to you, soon the three of you were engaging in a three way kiss, moans filled the room as you also began to stroke each other, once again drawing cum from the two men and having you cum for the first time

Chris and Henry licked it up and shared a kiss. The two men cleaned you up and then each other. All of you were still in your “clothes”, as the two men pulled you into their arms, preparing to go to sleep

You were underneath the covers as both men were talking to you. “You look fucking fantastic in that thong babe”, Henry breathed against you ear, “You’re gonna have to forgive me if you wake up and I’m inside you”, you smile, “Happens most morning anyways”

Chris kissed you, “we’re gonna have to buy you more things like that”, Chris chuckled as grabbed and squeezed your ass. Chris then spoke up, “What’re your thoughts on double penetration babe?”

Lord these two would be the death of you

Tags: @gayaristocrat @bluelove24

[restinslices]

Silly little request but how do you think LKB would dress like casually? Like once every blue moon they have a day off and ding need to wear their uniforms? Can you do this in bullet points?

Them not in their uniforms is such a normal concept but it seems so weird for them if you know what I mean. Like, wdym they don’t wear those outfits to sleep? Also this is probably shorter than other posts because it’s about outfits, yk?

Bi-Han

Black. Moving on-

On some real shit though, I feel like this man’s entire wardrobe is in greyscale 

Someone’s like “hey there’s this event coming up! Can you wear a blue shirt?”

You’d think he’d have blue but nope. Nothing but blacks and greys and maybe a white in there 

I saw a post of biker Bi-Han and I definitely see it now 

Idk if the pictures imma attach at the end are really biker tho so that’s why I’m saying mainly blacks 

Like Elsa, the cold doesn’t bother him anyway so jackets aren’t really a thing he has to wear. He kinda just does because it makes the outfit look better 

That’s all the brain power he puts into it though because this man doesn’t care about his wardrobe at all 

He cares enough to not look sloppy but he doesn’t care about piecing shit together or brands and designer. If you look closely you can see he’s wearing the same shirt he was wearing yesterday 

He wears black because he’s still thinking like an assassin. The whole “I shouldn’t be noticeable” thing 

Which is wild when you think about how he’s definitely noticeable in that blue outfit but idk

He also wears black because… he doesn’t know 

He checked his closet and realized that shit looked like a black void but refuses to actually wear more color 

I don’t see him accessorizing much either. He only carries stuff he can fit in his pockets 

Kuai Liang

Lazy 

Bi-Han adds a jacket for a bit of razzle dazzle but Kuai Liang doesn’t 

In all fairness, he gets hot easily (this is stereotypical but idc) so a jacket isn’t gonna work 

He wears the most basic t shirts and pants 

Like he legit got the same white shirt 50 times 

The shit is despicable 

I don’t think he adds many accessories either. He probably doesn’t carry much on him 

Long sleeves never really happen either 

Honestly I don’t think of any them dress with any special aesthetic in mind

But him? Extra lazy

I am being so serious when I say he buys the same clothes over and over again. He forgets he has a white t shirt in his closet so he buys another and the cycle repeats 

Probably doesn’t care as much because what are the chances he’ll be out of uniform?

You know how people say men's outfits are so boring? He’s the main example they use because there’s no personality with his shit 

I don’t see him doing much on his off days though so that’s probably why he just throws something on

He’s just getting dressed to go grocery shopping 

Tomas Vrbada 

The one with the most style 

Which isn’t saying a lot 

Wears multiple layers 

Why do I think this way? Idk. But if I said they all dress the same, it’d be boring so here we are

He probably has a normal type of body heat since he’s not a pyromancer or cryomancer so he’s wearing hoodies and jackets because he’s genuinely cold 

He accidentally has style 

Wearing a hoodie and jacket is stylish to people for whatever reason. He doesn’t get it but he’s like “yeah, I definitely have fashion sense. It’s definitely not because I’m cold all the time. That just doesn’t sound like me”

May accessorize a bit but not as much 

As a whole I think accessories can become heavy and get in the way and our boys gotta be ready to bust a move if something pops off. Just because they’re off duty doesn’t mean they’re not paying attention or in danger 

So that’s why our boys travel light 

He has those smoke bombs and shit so he might have a little pouch with him but I don’t think he’d carry a backpack. Goes back to being too heavy 

If something can’t fit in a pouch, it’s staying home 

Dresses in neutral colors. I don’t think any of them are necessarily into bright colors 

Doesn’t have the same exact clothes but wears them the same exact way. His outfits look like a skin variation 

He’s doing his best 

Remember all I do for you because imagining them in normal clothes fucked me up more than I’d like to admit

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

YEAH YANDERE XMEN LET'S GOOO

Anyways, I will look forward for any of your yan!x-men works. And I kinda hope for platonic mentor Scott Summers or Gambit(even if I don't see Gambit as a yandere it would be interesting to read about it)

𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐒…

!!! GN reader, dual-wielding yandere mentors, strict Scott, power abuse, manipulation, stalker Remy, no respect of privacy, the slightest bit of infantilism, I’m probably forgetting a lot cuz I’m really bad at warnings, pretty mild.

*Clutches my head like I’m taking psychic damage* AHHHHHHHH, THE VOICES!!! THE VOICES!!!! THEY’RE GIVING ME IDEAS!!!!

First off, you basically predicted one of my WIPs. Something about Scott’s base character just screams platonic yandere to me, and I probably couldn’t write a non-yandere fic about him if I tried. So!! Because I’ve already got a little something cooking with solo Scott, lemme give you the best of both worlds of your asks; yandere mentor Scott and Remy.

A dynamic like this would be completely uncoordinated. Their mentoring styles are polar opposites, and it doesn’t help that they can’t see eye to eye with each other on most things. So expect this to be a tug of war between what is essentially a strict dad and chill uncle. Scott will get done lecturing you about staying out late (he doesn’t want you dozing off and getting lazy during missions, that’s all!!), only for Remy to whisk you away on a late night patrol (with ice cream as a treat!!).

To fully understand what you’re dealing with here, let’s do a quick rundown on both of them on an individual level.

Scott: Overbearing as fuck. He might start off as harsh and borderline brutal, constantly singling you out and critiquing everything you do. Should anyone raise concerns over this, he’d be genuinely confused. He’s not treating you differently from the other X-Men!! You just need a little more tough love, that’s all!! He sees your potential and wants to bring it out of you so you’re ready for anything and everything!!

It would probably take a near-death experience on your end for him to finally soften up on you. He’s still strict as hell, don’t get me wrong, but at least he’s more encouraging than berating!! But now he keeps you glued to his side during missions. And doesn’t let you go on missions he’s not on. And only allows you to train with him. And starts getting more involved with your personal life. And basically keeps you on a tight leash with everything.

He definitely abuses his authority as field commander to get you to behave. Don’t wanna listen to him? Fine, you’re sitting out for the next couple of missions. What’s this? You think it’s unfair? If you won’t listen to him now, then what good are you in the field, huh? He’s only doing this to make you a better team player!! Now go to your room and think about what you’ve done.

Remy: Extremely hands off. The word “mentor” is used loosely when describing him, as he really doesn’t see himself as such. All he does is makes sure you don’t die on missions, gives you profound life lessons, then goes on to contradict that life lesson with some reckless move (text book example of a do as I say, not as I do kind of teacher). His laidback nature makes it easy to confide in him, and he’s always happy to lend an ear to his petit!

Meanwhile, his yandere side kind of runs counter to this. Yes, he’s extremely lax with you, but only because he knows where you are 24/7. There are trackers in all of your clothes so he can check in on you periodically. Not because he doesn’t trust you!! He really doesn’t give a shit what you’re up to as long as you’re not doing drugs or whatever. There’s just this nagging fear in the back of his mind that you could be in danger, and he wants to make sure he can save you in time. He also has a habit of snooping through your things; again, not because he doesn’t trust you, he’s just curious and has no sense of privacy when it comes to you (and also because he likes to leave behind little trinkets for you to find later).

While I don’t see very many situations where he resorts to this, it’s best to keep in mind that Remy’s a master manipulator. If you’re up to something he doesn’t particularly like — maybe you have a crush on someone he doesn’t deem worthy… which is just about everyone — he’ll easily talk you out of it, playing whatever card he feels necessary. There may be the slightest bit of infantilism (“you’re too young for mushy romance, petit!”), but nothing too heavy handed; he mostly does it to tease.

Okay, with that out of the way, let’s get back to their dynamic.

As said before, they don’t really work in tandem with each other. They just kinda coexist as your two mentors that constantly butt heads with each other. Scott sees Remy as a bad influence on you, and Remy basically does everything in his power to spite Scott. What’s this? Did mean ol’ Cyke lock you in your room? Good thing Gambit’s next lesson is to teach you how to pick locks (but that does not mean you can sneak out and do your own thing. Stay where Gambit can see you, damnit). It pisses Scott off to no end and Remy thinks it’s hilarious.

Now, there’s a very slim chance that they come to some sort of understanding. Sure, Scott has a stick up his ass and Remy is a bit reckless, but they at least share a common goal of keeping you safe. This is when they start (begrudgingly) working together, with Remy turning a blind eye whenever Scott oversteps his leadership role while Scott checks in with Remy for your current location. They’re absolutely not best buds with this setup, but they’ll at least tolerate each other for your own good.

They’re kinda like your divorced parents in this set up.

But, again, the chances of this happening are very slim. Scott will do everything in his power to keep you away from Remy’s influence, and Remy doesn’t trust Scott enough to agree to “sharing.” It would probably take a dire situation for them to work together. Just as a one time thing; it wouldn’t be permanent.

Overall, I love this dynamic. It helped me visualize a yandere Gambit better (despite him being my favorite, I wasn’t sure if I could hit him with my yanderefication beam), and of course I’m gonna write the X-Men’s resident yan-dad. I wanna write more so bad.

[meli-writes]

Cupcakes

Shut off the lights. Count the float. Lock the front door, from the inside. Check the parking lot is clear. Lock the back door, from the outside. Go home and forget the shitty fucking day she just had—

“Uhh, hey?”

“What the fuck!?” Brooke screams. “Shit fuck.”

Her hand dives straight into the handbag, spiked to match her face because corporate hasn’t managed to send an inspector out here in three years, and her middle-aged boss thinks it ‘reminds him of his daughter.’

She’s still rifling through, for miniature mace or a non-existent switchblade, when the voice coughs and continues, “Could I—”

“You fucking left — earlier,” Brooke interrupts, dipping the toes of her coffee-stained sneakers into the bronze disc under the lamppost. She stares the not-quite stranger down, leaning on the twisting chrome of her bike, and sneers, “I saw you ride off earlier. The lot was clear.”

It had seemed like six dudes at the table. All heckling at each other, bumping leather-clad shoulders to fit into the booth. It was enough of a red flag for her to instinctively glance around, looking for anyone else unlucky enough to be closer. Of-fucking-course not.

And it wasn’t until she was standing there, plastered with an agonised smile that cracked the poison-frog make-up around her eyes, that she realised two of those shoulders were hers. Now the biker girl rolls them softly, but it’s still obvious how much bigger she is than her; and even if it’s lost on the clueless bitch, it’s not on her.

“And I did,” the biker admits. “But I also rode back a bit earlier. Didn’t realise you couldn’t see me but look, if you want me to leave again I can—”

“Fucking leave.”

“—I’m Chip, by the way,” she continues — stumbled inelegantly over the sudden, apparently unpredicted and obvious answer. “I wanted to apologise — for earlier.”

“And I want you to leave,” Brooke says; hand still stuck in the bag, and a snarl stuck pressing her cheeks up against her nose.

The biker girl — 'chip' — looks at her, crossed eyes peering through a messy thicket of poisonously-dyed hair that the internet says tells men to fuck off and never actually does. It at least seems to make Chip do it, pivoting her boot to flick up the bike's kickstand.

Brooke huffs to herself — at herself — for what she knows is a dumb idea, “Wait.”

“Do it,” she orders. “Apologise.”

“Ah. Shit. I uhh—” Chip the biker mutters, pulling on the creased edges of her jacket. “I’m— sorry?”

“For what?” Brooke presses.

“For like— when you were asking about desserts, and I said I wanted the uhh…”

Now Brooke doesn’t need to hear her say it — because it’s been looping in her head all fucking afternoon. But she does want to hear it, so she taps her foot and watches the full-head taller muscle-girl jump in time with it.

“I asked for four cupcakes. Two in the front.” Chip looks at her like she’s lost, like Chip didn’t remember exactly where the diner was so she could drive hours back through empty farmland to be here. “And two in back.”

Brooke doesn't let up on the sharply pointed directions, "Meaning?"

“That I wanted to see your tits and ass,” Chip admits, at least finishing quicker than Brooke can pour a new cup of hours-stale diner coffee.

Brooke hums for a spell, and then, “You’re a pig. You know that, right?”

“Yeah I—”

“Ha!” Brooke laughs, mouth curling to show the neat set of bedazzled, overdue braces, and watching Chip blush through chocolate-chip freckles.

“I just wanted to show off to my brothers. Fit in with them while still being,” Chip mutters while fumbling at a pride patch evidently torn-off and resewn a dozen times over, “me.”

“They’re assholes, okay,” she offers weakly, “but they accept me.”

“And for hanging out with them, trying to fit in with them, that makes you what?”

“Also an asshole.”

“Ding!” Brooke snaps her fingers, and lets the dozen-or-so beaded and paperclip-chain bracelets slip down her coffee-spill burn-spattered arm. “You done?” she asks.

“Yeah. That was it. Sorry,” Chip says and glances towards the lot exit and the moon peeking over the decades-rusted diner sign. “Maddy, yeah? It’s an empty road so if you wanna watch and make sure I’m gone before you leave yourself—”

“No.”

“Uhh…”

“It’s a fake name on the uniform. You know for assholes like you,” Brooke says, and enjoys letting Chip bake in the discomfort. After a few aching moments she offers a reprieve, “I’m Brooke. And you are a chauvinist, leatherdyke asshole.

But— if I had to go home right now, I’d be fingering myself all night to you.”

Chip chokes on the gum that’s been circling in her cheeks for the past hour, and nearly tips her bike over from stumbling back into it, and doesn’t get any words out before Brooke’s popped the buttons of the undersized, clashing, retro-teal diner shirt, and dropped it on the concrete to show off the black lace push-up underneath.

It’s not hiding anything. It’s not meant to.

“Cupcakes, you said?”

“Fuck,” Chip manages to muster at last, and sees her own breath in front of her. “W-wait. Isn’t it kinda cold out here?”

“Then give me your jacket, and keep my cupcakes warm with your hands,” Brooke says straightforwardly, and once Chip shakes the stupor she hangs the leather morass over Brooke’s shoulders and lets it swallow her except for the bare front; runs her hands up to squeeze fat tits together, slipping a hand under the band to massage the marks from wearing a fuck-me bra to a nowhere diner for work all-day.

Brooke herself is looking down Chip’s arms, taking the scuffs and scars from stupid brawls with drunk brothers and learning to ride after to keep up with them. She lets her own hand push into Chip’s crotch, smiles when she feels how hard Chip is.

“You were thinking about this too, weren’t you?” she asks.

“Y-you don’t mind that I’ve got one?”

“No,” Brooke snickers, and then pauses to correct. “No, not at all.”

She leans in closer, letting her breath fall in Chip’s ear, the lust pulsing through her stripping composure, “But you’ve been thinking about it between my cupcakes. Haven’t you?”

Chip’s entire self shakes, as if she came just from hearing it. “Yes!” she blurts out. “I-I mean— yeah, totally, that sounds hot.”

“Hmm. Be patient then,” Brooke says as she pulls back, running through the split in Chip’s top to claw at her back and rake a hand through home-clipped hair. “Wanted to apologise,” Brooke parrots. “Sure. Wanted to get rewarded more-like, for fucking trailer-park chivalry.”

Every part of the giant butch melts between her fingers, except for the one part she can see fighting and losing to her thick, leather pants. “We’ll get to you,” she tells it. “First though…”

“Ahh! Hold on—” Chip squeals, as Brooke flips her luridly-short skirt up and mounts Chip’s thigh. It doesn’t even feel like she’s wearing anything underneath, and Chip shakes herself as she thinks how close her uninvited hand came earlier today.

“Shush,” she’s told, and it’s easy to be quiet and listen to nothing but the tatted-up, college drop-out dream that’s fucking herself on Chip’s prostrated, shuddering thigh to the tune of the thud-thud in her chest.

“They’re riding leathers,” Brooke reminds. “They can get wet.”

---

(Masterpost)