#op how do i thank you for this (i know i don’t have to) but i will NEVER get over this ndhdhdh
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paverage-blog · 2 days ago
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As someone who is relatively new to fanfics, I have to say I don’t really understand some of these interactive processes. To me, a fic is like a home cooked meal. I may taste something and decide it’s not for me or I may go back for thirds — but my ability to consume or enjoy it at all is due to the person who created it. As I would never sit down and eat a meal someone cooked without saying thanks (and gushing about what I loved most), I can’t really fathom reading and just walking away without saying thanks. In all but a very few instances I hit the kudos button because it cost me $0.00. Even if I didn’t think it was the greatest thing I’ve ever read, I’m at least saying “thanks, you did the damn thing and kudos to you for putting it out there.”
It seems like a level of rudeness I can’t fathom to not say how much I enjoyed a story if I did (to the point that I’ve been mulling over a fic I read last night all and it’s bothered me I didn’t leave a comment and only a kudo - I will be fixing that when I log in tonight because even if the fic is “old” or other people already said it, the author deserves to know the story haunted me all day and that I enjoyed it.) You’re privileged enough to enjoy someone’s art (which sometimes is a huge investment of their time and efforts) for free. It feels like the least I can do is acknowledge (again, for free!) that I enjoyed it or that I want to show the author support to keep writing.
As a writer, I admit that I spend a lot of time squinting at hits vs. kudos and trying to extrapolate if people enjoyed. I assume that if my work has hits but not kudos that someone read (or attempted it) and decided they didn’t like it/it wasn’t for them and that it was so bad they didn’t want to even give me a thumbs up for making an effort. I assume this, because I assume other people consume fic like I do. Reading OP’s story really makes me scratch my head… like people may pull up a chair to my table where I’ve spent weeks “cooking up” something, enjoy it, and walk off without even saying thanks…and then go tell other people how great it was? No disrespect to people who don’t kudo/comment on everything they enjoy, but I guess I’m just stunned people wouldn’t even bother to click a button to say thanks if they thought it was a worthwhile effort.
Idk, I gotta go log in and tell someone how much I enjoyed something I read yesterday and keep being an outlier, I guess, lol.
A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
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chialattea · 10 months ago
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Nami WIP + some chibi doodles heheeee
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itspileofgoodthings · 9 months ago
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Porfiry telling Raskolnikov that at least he was honest and in one bound took the furthest leap to put his theory to the test of actual action——
#Taylor believing a man who is obviously lying to her#like. it’s fascinating to me how they’ll say anything to her and she’ll be like ‘okay let’s go’#she’s never read Jane Austen and it shows. but that’s okay because she’s the character in an Austen novel#she has no sense of self-preservation she has no common sense when it comes to love#and the reason I have endless patience for that is because she IS different. she is extraordinary. she is WEIRD. she’s so needy#so angry so fragile so stupid so brilliant so completely helpless#like the bolter———I can’t even LOOK at it right now#because you know she was like this since she was 5 and SHE knows it#just so. Different. so strange. I mean she ruled her family with an iron fist from the age of 11#and her packaging is so basic and she she had so much access to everything anyone could want#so there are none of the usual marks of someone being so Different#but like. people HATED her from day one. you know her own strength of personality was drawing out many people’s hatred or envy#and she’s so helpless in her own personality because she can never change#like thank you aimee? or whatever? heck yeah there was some girl who bullied her and brutalized her on the playground#and you know it devastated Taylor from day one and still does#and it’s just. I don’t know how people can’t see that someone with that extraordinary set of gifts#wouldn’t also suffer in such an extraordinary way#and ways that elicit so much scorn and non-sympathy because people are unsettled and jealous and annoyed by her#because she WILL find a way to win#but isn’t that proof enough that she is the very OPPOSITE OF NORMAL#it’s why people have to be like ‘oh she sold her soul to the devil for this success.’ or whatever the psy-op spy thing is#because there’s no human way to explain her success if she really were as basic/talentless as people say#ugh this is all so incoherent and irritating and I’m so sorry but I just. I cannot explain how protective my heart is of her#and all the many many mistakes she’s made and the prisons she’s made for herself because she’s LIVING the tragedy#of never having denied herself one time/getting everything she wants#and discovering the poison at the bottom of everything she reached for with desperate hands#like. I love her so much and I am so protective of her because she is so helpless and she is getting shot in the face every time#and she feels every blow!#whew I need to turn off reblogs and will probably delete but I just#this album is all of her spilled out and people DO hate to see it because a lot of people hate her!!!!
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s-4pphics · 2 months ago
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the call. I (sevika + vi)
SYNOPSIS: reddit: a place for thought-dumping and being horny [college au] WORD COUNT: 9.5K WARNINGS: this was supposed to be dark but its very crack-ish, sevika and vi play rugby(kinda minor plot tbh), oc is a crazy redditor and wears skirts, STALKING, 90% SMUT MDNI(fingering + phone sex + munching + mult orgasms + dirty talk, tensionnnn) brief mentions of grief and loss bc me, recreational drug use, JUST TOXIC, abby makes an appearance later A/N: WROTE THIS WITH MY BABY!!! @trackinglessons art by lottie my love my light my everything this is a product of #OVULATIONWEEK and the #ARCANETAKEOVER
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r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       3y
no one likes me. 
i [f18] don’t have any friends. at all. i don’t have anyone that’s not family that likes me and sometimes im convinced my family regrets keeping me adound. i just moved cities for uni and haven’t been able to have a valuable conversation with anyone and im starting to think i’m the reason why. to be honest i’ve always been the “weird” one or whatever ppl at school called me. but i don’t think im weird at all. I think i’m nice but ppl treat me like a germ lol they just stare and whisper to each other but i know they’re talking about me
does anyone have any advice on being more approachable? or whatever i’m not even sure what to call it tbh.
kewlio313 • 3y
Everybody’s weird in college! You’re young and finding yourself. Join some organizations and put yourself out there! It’ll work out kid 
     artkiller OP • 3y
     i wish there was a chess club lol 
Margie • 3y
how do you go about approaching people? 
      artkiller OP • 3y
      i just walk up and start talking about myself
      Margie • 3y
      Okay… and what’s their reaction? 
      artkiller OP • 3y
it’s different every time. sometimes they just leave, sometimes they laugh then leave, other times they’re outwardly mean. one guy told me to ‘shut the hell up bitch’ and i immediately wanted to commit a federal crime(not murder)
      Margie • 3y
      Goddamn lol. Maybe u r weird 
miKrophone • 3y
shut up hoe
     artkiller OP • 2y
     ?? :/
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
Advice Needed
how do you know if you’re mentally ill?
hello fellow redditors. lol. i’m finally back… very odd first term i think i got ghosted or whatever it’s called by some dude on the hockey team but yeah i plotted homicide. i’m pretty sure that situation sent me into a spiral. i think im sick. 
i’m not sure what’s going on with me but my thoughts have been really dark recently. not necessarily suicidal or harm inflicting(on myself) but… yeah… prettyyyy dark. idk. it’s weird what my brain conjures up sometimes. i guess im curious why my brain thinks the way it does. i’m not a bad person and i know that, but my brain makes me believe that i am. idk what to do at this point. i’ve never been to a professional and tbh i don’t think i should because i don’t wanna be admitted somewhere lol 
kewlio313 • 2y
Welcome back kid. It’s often better to seek help even though it can be fucking horrifying, especially in adulthood. Get help and you’ll be fine
     artkiller OP • 2y
     and if i’m not fine? what do i do then? 
     kewlio313 • 2y
To be frank, I'm not sure. I’ve been through alot and even I don’t have clear direction on life. I’ve been allowing my intuition to guide me for some time. Just try it and see what happens. Rooting for you
     artkiller OP • 2y
     thank you 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
Advice Needed
am i a lesbian?
i [f19] think im attracted to females. i can’t stop staring at their tits. i always assumed my middle school peeping was from jealousy or whatever the hell twitter said but now that i’m grown i think i wanna fuck girls. or like. girl adjacents??? idk the terminology or whatever. 
PetersJoker • 2y
go eat some pussy and find out
     artkiller OP • 2y
     no fuckhead
kewlio313 • 2y
… Girl adjacents? Females? Are you actually 40? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     is this a dig
     kewlio313 • 2y
     You crack me up. Have you experimented before? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     i never passed a science class
     kewlio313 • 2y
     … Alright. 
 I meant hooking up. Have u kissed a girl before? Slept with one? Or whatever you youngins say these days? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     no. i’m not a slut lol i hardly go outside 
     kewlio313 • 2y
Finding out what you like isn’t being a slut. You’re in college for fucks sake. Find you someone to lay with, ya loser. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     or i should just shoot myself. less complicated then sex
     kewlio313 • 2y
     Maybe so, but they’re equally as messy. 
ButchesForChrist • 2y
Questioning is usually the first sign. Lol
     artkiller OP • 2y
     fuck me
     ButchesForChrist • 2y
     Well
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
what does sex feel like? (wlw)
[f19] just watched scissor porn for the first time. what the fuck was that. (i need it)
MisandristInTraining • 2y
the work of demons aka men
     artkiller OP • 2y
     i drink their blood
     MisandristInTraining • 2y
     Lmao
OnHorseback • 2y
Feels like dying but emotionally • 2y
     artkiller OP • 2y
     i wanna die physically 
     OnHorseback • 2y
     I’m sure some dirty fuck can set that up for you
     artkiller OP • 2y
     lit
kewlio313 • 2y
Welcome to the dark side. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     flirt a little harder oldhead 
ButchesForChrist • 2y
Ready to come out? 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     of where
     ButchesForChrist • 2y
     Bitch…..
__
__
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
home sweet home. 
hello found family. been mia bc fuck school but i’m back… and i think im a sadist. 
does anyone know where rugby originated from? i like watching large women be physical w each other and i wish they would harm me in similar ways. pls push me to the floor and stomp me out(specifically directed to one pink head) i’ve been thinking dirty things all day i need her so fucking bad. is this why ppl r so obsessed with sex? bc of hot people? i get it now. i need her to bend me over and put her cleat on my neck
lezziesthatembezzle • 2y
good morning to u too bitch
     artkiller OP • 2y
     big muscly girls pls rail me from da bck 
     lezziesthatembezzle • 2y
     someone muzzle this thot
Accuntress • 2y
A dyke’s pride and joy: large women. 
kewlio313 • 2y
This is crazily your most normal post. Missed ya. Do well in school
     artkiller OP • 2y
     :3 🩷
[deleted] • 2y
The cards are in my favor 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     would you like to sex through private message? 
     [deleted] • 2y
     What the fuck you crackhead
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       2y
Advice Needed
sex addiction while a virgin? 
is this possible? i shouldn’t have watched ppl with big clits trib. quite criminal. even more criminal when i’ve  imagined the girl i’ve been following around for the past 2 weeks doing it to me
[deleted] • 2y
is this who we are…. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     obviously. 
kewlio313 • 2y
This is my last straw. 
     artkiller OP • 2y
     hugs xD
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       6mo
i’m confessing. 
idc anymore. i don’t give a FUCK. i am in love. i [f21] am in love. the deepest kind i think. love at first sight truly. it’s the kind of love that’s painful. it kills and leaves behind trails of misery if betrayed or lost. whenever i see her, i cry from happiness. her joy is my joy. her hurt is my hurt. our hearts are forever intertwined no matter the distance. i’m writing this for her. if you ever see this: i love you, darling. there’s not a second that goes by where you’re not at the forefront of my mind. i’ll treasure everything we’ve built thus far, and promise to never take it for granted. i hope to die by your side. 
i love you. i love you so much. 
even if we’ve never spoken. 
kewlio313 • 6mo
Yup… she’s lost it, folks. Very deep sigh. 
     ButchesForChrist • 5mo
     That’s part of being a lesbian. She’ll live. Trust me
“Violet! … VIOLET!”
Why’s Sev always so loud in the goddamn library? The receptionist already has tacks on her behavior chart like some kindergartener. “I heard you! Jesus Christ, I’m sitting right fucking next to you—“
“I wouldn’t haveta fucking scream if you woulda answered me when I asked 3 days ago! Are you coming on Saturday?” 
How does she tell Sev fuck no bitch I don’t wanna go in a polite manner? It’s the first weekend after Christmas break and quite frankly, she's already sick of being on campus. Vi loves her friend to death but holy fuck does she wish she had an off button. 
“Just come the hell on and stop—“
“Dude, I—“
“You know it’s not gonna be fun if you’re not there! Half the bitches are comin’ for you! Plus… I think you could use a fun time after… y’know.” Sevika softens — only a bit, she's still Sevika. Hard ass. 
She does know. At this point, who doesn’t? Her last year of university started on a bad foot when her family home caught aflame with her little sister and father still inside, but the icing on the cake was when her long term, blue-haired girlfriend sent her the can we talk? important text. Now she’s single with corpses for relatives(she thinks her sister would’ve found that funny). Her teammates returned to campus with her; eyes mournful and hearts sunk to the bottom of their stomachs, so prepared to shield and coddle when needed. Sev was one of them: through every breakdown and anxiety attack and hungry but nauseating night. 
“I’m not tryna bring up old shit. You been through a lot and deserve some fun. That’s all I’m sayin’. Get your last bit of jitters out before the season starts.” 
Vi nods. She gets it. Losing her sister was just as much of a loss for Sev as it was for her, but somehow, she was able to ease back into herself. Become… normal again. Socializing takes so much energy outta Violet, now. She’d rather go lift or go sock the shit outta rich person. In some ways, she wishes she had as much willpower as her friend. 
She knows why Sev wants her to go. New pussy, new me, her and Abby once told her, but she’s not in the mood to smash right now. She’ll probably start crying if they don’t kiss both her cheeks before her nose like… Ugh. She shivers in disgust… and extreme longing. She misses her ex like crazy. 
“I know. I’ll, uh, think about it.” 
“M’kay… now what the fuck is epitactic theory.” 
“Girl…” 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       12mi
Advice Needed
how crazy is it to ask for a threesome from two ppl that don’t know you? 
[f21] i’m currently in my campus library watching my girlfriend study with her teammate from my stiff ass beanbag and i need them both like crack. how do i bring intercourse up without making it awkward or uncomfortable? help asap pls
also i might c her this weeknd she’s going out and i wanna go
CreamTeam • 5mi
Wait … so is she your girlfriend or not?? 😭😭 
     artkiller OP • 2mi
     we have a complicated relationship🩷
     ButchesForChrist • 1mi
     Aka she’s stalking her. Scroll down a little
     artkiller OP • 30s
     stay out my business 
     CreamTeam • 1s
     What the fuck
kewlio313 • 2mi
I thought we were better than this, honey. 
     artkiller OP • 30s
     you prob are. im not
     kewlio313 • 4s
     Deep sigh. 
Your phone drops from your jittery hands and into your lap, screen glowing with every disappointed reply from fucking Kewlio who you’ve grown to love. You like to call them a friend. A faceless, emotionally intelligent, oddly attractive friend who you’ve never met. 
The love of your life is right there, as always. Exactly 34 steps away, past the shelves littered with history novels and biographies, sat at the table surrounded by Liberal Arts textbooks and her star-littered laptop. Black jacket, black shirt, ripped black jeans, hair dyed black: that’s new. Still streaked with pink and somehow you’re even more hungry for her. She’s looked a mess recently: beaten and bruised, coming to class with black eyes and bandages across her pretty nose. It makes you wanna burn down the entire Arts and Sciences building with everyone inside of it. 
She’s annoyed with Sevika, you can tell. They’re talking about something. Maybe her sister, rest in peace. Or piss if she sucked. Whatever. A small part wishes you listened a little closer when she talked about Jinx(weird ass nickname, but okay) so you’d know exactly what to ask. She can take out any aggression or sadness on you anytime. In here, outside. You’d drop ‘em for her wherever. 
Kewlio is a dirty liar. You’re not a stalker. You’re a fan, an admirer, a lover. Your girl’s simply unassuming… How the fuck is that your fault? 
She won’t be like that for long, though. 
Vi lost her cleats a few days ago. Her black and blue ones that are worn the hell down and hanging at the seams, but she loves them. Wears them almost every match despite how unsteady they make her on the field. They’re her lucky charm, besides you, of course. 
Her lucky charm found her lucky charms. 
And by found, you mean broke into her gym locker with the code you memorized 2 years ago and snagged ‘em. She should really get those locks changed before someone takes something important. 
The explanation of how you found her cleats exactly? You’re not sure and you’re not dwelling. She’ll be so relieved that you found them that it won’t even matter. Might even drop to her knees and praise you like a God. Is she religious? One of the minor details you don’t know about her. 
But you’ll find out soon enough. No worries at all. 
You wonder how Caitlyn is doing. 
Rabbit holes are either your best friend or worst enemy. Today, they’re straddling the fence. Your brain never shuts off when you're in a crisis. You’re ovulating, overstimulated, and searching for a cure from someone you’ve never said hello to. 
The internet can solve your problems though. Especially if they’re sex-deprived millennials. Their long-term lack of human contact makes for some hilarious stories and useful what-not-to-dos. 
how to finger a vagina 
vagina g spot where is it
where is clit vagina
vagina map
scissoring hacks positions
lesbian sex how to
can lesbians do anal 
is mommy kink a trauma response
Reddit searches are always on your side. All answers to the world at the tip of your fingers. You love the media! Squirting is not pee evidently. PornHub comments are not a reliable source. You should ask your girlfriend if she squirts. 
Caitlyn would know. Fucking BITCH!
how to make girlfriend come
Mansplainer misogynists geeking about making their wives do housework while they sit on their asses and flirt with young Discordians. ‘I clap and she appears’
You should craft a bomb that only targets cis-het men because what the fuck is going on right now. 
how to make girlfriend cum
‘[M48] I’ve never made my wife climax and we’ve been together for 15 years and have 2 children’
Your eyes are fucking burning. Is it bad to wish death on a person? Cursed imagery. Your fingers attempt to salvage the last bits of your sanity. 
how to make girlfriend orgasm wlw
date ideas lesbian
am i crazy quiz
insanity quiz
You’re normal you’re okay you’re literally fine. 
mental illness signs for lesbians
what does dying feel lik
“Ma’am.”
You gasp sharply. Librarian. Fuck oh shit
“Hi. We’re, uh, lockin’ up, so…” 
You’re still at the library. How much time has passed? How many rabbit holes have you fallen into? Where’s your girlfriend? Her and Sev are gone… 
But you know where to find your g-spot! Hooplah!
“Oh ye— Yeah! Uhh… bye.” You stand so fast you get whiplash. Your backpack beats against your back when you adjust the straps on your shoulders. Headphones on, music blasting, and just like that, the world is off and you’re on. Right into the darkness of the city. 
You love a stripper’s playlist in times like these. 
You love Reddit in times like these. 
You walk and walk with an extra skip in your step. Time to drive Kewlio crazy. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       1s
guys im happy
the joy that i feel rn is unmatched. i love my life. im so excited for the future. thank you god and or universe for these blessings
And post. Nothing could wipe the smile off your face. Nothing nothing nothing you love it here! You love school. You love your girlfriend and her friends and her sport!
“Oof—“
“AH—“
Your back connects with the angles of your hardcovers and fuck you hope your laptop survived that drop. There’s not nearly enough cushion in your bag to cover that fall fuck your life you hate everyone—
“YOU FU—“
“Holy fuckin’ shit I’m so sorry are you ok—“
And your mouth zips. Oh…
Oh. 
Your girl’s in running shorts. Squeezing her thighs good ‘n tight and she glistens with sweat, brows pulled down in concern as she eyes you from above. If the sun was still out, the rays would dress her head like a halo. A heavenly sight. You’d die here… but not before a drop of her sweat falls on your face. You need that at least once. Zooweeema—
“Are you oka— fuck, gimme your hands, up ya go, c’mon—“
Oh she’s talking. And grabbing you. 
Your hands are warmed by skin and your spine tickles when you’re pulled to your feet like a feather. The pain in your back and shoulders don’t fucking matter anymore. Life works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?
“Hi, Vi.” 
“I’m— hey, uh… do we know each other?” 
We love each other actually! 
“No— I uh, sorry! I go to watch your matches and all that. Kinda a fan… Sorry if that’s weird—“
“No no no no, not weird at all. Uh, very flattering actually. ‘Preciate it.” 
You’re gonna fucking pass out. 
“Are you okay though? Nothing hurts, right?” And your knees wobble when a squeezing hand lands on your shoulder, gauging you for pain. No pain. Just deprived. Needy. Desperate. Touch me some more. 
“M good.” 
“Cool…” Her hand drops and you nearly screech like a banshee, “And your name? Sorry bout t—“
You interrupt with yours and she smiles. Nice to meet you, she says with gravel and your heart grows another heart inside of another heart. Holy fucking you’re boutta
“I like rugby.” 
Kill yourself. You’re boutta kill yourself. 
Vi’s eyes widened before nodding in agreement, “Yeah… me too. If it wasn’t obvious enough. It’s a great… stress reliever.” 
So is sex, according to Sexcopedia.edu. Do me. 
“Really? It looks painful sometimes.” 
She sighs with tension, “It is. We gotta lot of aggressive people playing against us so we have to always… do more. I guess, I dunno. But whenever I’m mad it’s great. Very useful.”
“Are you mad often?” 
“Are you studying psychology?” She pins with an arched, slit brow, but her eyes remain light and friendly. It’s funny, she doesn’t appear to be this approachable with her grunge-ness.  
“Nah. I need to, though. Could do me some good.” 
Her laugh is hearty. Genuine. “Shit, me too. Help me out.”
“Do you wanna be my friend?” 
She seems stunned and you don’t know why. Doesn’t banter create friendship? Whatever. Fuck it. She can say no. You don’t care. You still got her shoe—
“Gimme your phone—” 
Your heart drops to the floor, through the concrete, right into the center of the Earth’s crust waiting to burn and cease to exist. She’s got you figured out. You’ve been exposed and she’s gonna fry you in the middle of the damn street
“—I’ll put my number in.” 
… Oh.
You meticulously make sure your notis are deleted and OFF before handing her your device with the keypad on display. Her fingers are pretty and nimble. Flexible with how slender they are. Pretty hands. Pretty, blue veins and you're instantly reminded of her ex. You hate the color blue. 
She hands your phone back, “That’s me. Hit me up when you get… wherever you’re going. And lemme know if I need to cover your medical expenses for spinal cord surgery.” 
You laugh. Really fucking loudly and she flinches, but smiles after. She’s so fucking cute! Is this flirting? 
“Y-Yeah, I will.”
Her head tilts fondly, “Cool.”
“Cool.” 
She gives you one last look before plugging her earbud in to continue her jog. You check her contact to make sure it’s real and fuck you have her fucking number! Fuck fuck fuck fuck
You leap like the happiest frog in the pond when she’s out of your line of view and a sharp pain whips through your shoulder blades. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       3mi
lads i just got proposed to. spring wedding in sweden
number collected. so it begins. 
kewlio313 • 48s
Christ help us all. 
CreamTeam • 10s
Ring pics. 
     artkiller OP • 3s
     cawk ring pics***
     CreamTeam • 1s
     Should’ve fuckin known. I hate you genuinely 
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r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       30s
when’s a good time to text the girl you’re obsessed with? 
[f21] soooo i’m laying in bed lookignat her contact and idk what to do. i’ve fantasized about this so many times and now its in my lap… im so used to shit going wrong that idk how to react to it going right. it’s kinda late but i really wanna talk to her but idk she might be sleep or whatever. 
should i scale her building and check if she’s awake? :(
Vi doesn’t know why there’s a pit in her stomach. She sits on her teammate’s fluffy rug with a smoked out Sevika who patiently waits for her green light, but it hasn’t come. She feels an oncoming breakdown and she needs a babysitter just in case. 
“Finish this for me?” A roach floats in front of Vi’s face before she pushes it away. 
“No.”
“Buzzkill.” 
Sev and Vi sit in silence for 12 seconds before the roach is stolen and hit by the latter. Sevika snickers. Vi drops her head on the couch and exhales her worries through clouds. Stressed, anxious riddled, maybe not the best headspace to get high but fuck it. 
“Whatcha thinking about?”
She shrugs, “Everything.”
“Talk ta me. What’s happening.”
Vi’s face burns when her mind plagues with you. Your giant bifocals and smudged mascara and acrylic-stained hoodies. You had a backpack on… Could be a student here. You might be a freshman. Vi hates making assumptions about strangers but you seemed a little… 
Immature? Your eyes were too shiny to be a senior. 
“You’re gonna laugh…” 
“I’ll always laugh at your stupid ass,” She snickers. “What happened, though, seriously.” 
Wafts of smoke curl around her words, “I almost bulldozed a girl earlier.” 
Sevika scrabbles to her knees with a slack jaw, “WHAT THE—“
“Oh my fucking god can you be normal for—“
“BITCH BULLDOZED? WHAT THE FUCK FREAKY ASS BITCH—“ 
“NOT LIKE THAT!” Vi scoffs, “I went on a run and bumped into her! Fucking WEIRDO!”  
Sevika slumps back on her ass, clearly disappointed, “… Oh.”
Vi tends to the roach until her fingertips burn, stubbing out the burnt paper on Sevika’s ashtray. When she looks up, she finds a very intrigued looking fox. Here she fucking goes. 
“She hot?”
Vi’s sigh is littered with agitation at her friend while she laughs, “I hadta fucking ask! Tell me! She smell good?” 
“I don’t fuckin’ remember! We talked for like… 2 minutes!” 
“2 is enough time to check her out. Show’a hands, how fat were her tits? Like this?” Sevika mimes holding watermelons that are too goddamn heavy and Vi cringes. 
“You fucking disgust me.” 
Sevika relaxes back onto her elbows, legs extended in front of her. Her brow quirks when she catches Vi’s gaze drop to her waist, “Meh. You like that about me.” 
“Sometimes. Not when I’m in a crisis.”
“Meeting a girl is a crisis now?” 
“Yes! I don’t fucking know, she was…” 
Honestly, Vi’s unsure how to describe you. 
“Does she at least go here! You’re not giving me shit to work with.” 
“I DON’T KNOW—“
“DON’T FUCKING YELL AT ME—“
Vi groans with her palms in her eyes, “She just asked to be friends. She told me she watches us play and that she’s—“
“Back the fuck up,” Sevika raises up again, “Do you not see what’s happening here!” 
“…” 
“You’re actually fucking stupid, wow,” She scoffs, “You know she set all that up, right?” 
“… What in the fuck are you talking abou—“
“She ran into you on purpose! She’s a fan bitch!” Sev reaches for her phone on the coffee table, “What’s her Instagram?” 
Vi whines, “I don’t know—“
Before Sevika can cuss her out for the 40th time, she bursts, “I GAVE HER MY NUMBER!”
“… Did you get hers?” 
“…” 
“BROTHER—“
“Shut up! I’m not… I don’t flirt! I don’t know how, not anymore! She caught me off guard honestly.”
“What's her name?” 
Vi sheepishly mumbles your title; it’s slimy the way it curls on her tongue. You were so nice and now she’s setting you up to be pestered by her best friend. 
It’s silent for 3 minutes, only the pittering of Sevika’s fingers on her device while she hunts for you. Another 4 pass before she tosses her phone in annoyance. 
“You sure you weren’t hallucinating? Nothing’s poppin’ up.” 
“You’re so annoy—“
WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK, WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK
Vi’s phone screen glows gray with an unsaved number across the top… One with their area code… Sevika watches the number scroll like a hawk. The smile that grows on her face is crooked. And knowing. 
It’s 11PM. It’s not you. It couldn’t be you. 
“That’s your ringtone?” Sevika snorts. 
“Shut up.” Why’s she so anxious all of a sudden? Her sweaty palms aren’t enough to stop her from reaching for the device, though. 
She answers and puts you on speaker. 
“Hello?” 
“…Hi. It’s me.” 
Sevika’s brow lifts in questioning. Is that her? She mouths and Vi nods. Her eyes roll when her friend whispers, cute voice.  
She’ll never say, but Sevika’s presence re-energizes her. Makes her a little more playful, so she teases, “Me who?” 
A beat of silence passes before you start mumbling to yourself, “I’m gonna fuckin’ throw up is this the wrong per—“
Sevika’s hand flies over her mouth to smother her laughter while Vi coddles you; laughs that she’s joking and that she was waiting on your call. Her cheeks burn when her teammate throws her an accusatory look. 
“Do you mean it?” 
“Mean what?” 
“That you’ve been waiting on me?” 
Before Vi can answer, Sev raises up onto her knees and mimes fucking somebody from the back, face slack with faux and exaggerated pleasure. She ignores the sinful jolt in her tummy and flings a throw pillow right at her face. 
“Yeah, ‘course I was…” 
And then it’s silent again. Her muscles freeze with every deep breath you take over the phone. Sevika waits expectantly, talk to her, she says with flapping fingers. 
“Whatcha up to?” 
“… Uhh… nothing?”
Your laugh is featherlight, “Are you asking me?” 
“Maybe?” 
Sevika’s had enough of the tomfoolery. She wiggles over and hits the mute button with a heavy slam. Leans in close while she whispers, 
“Dude, she’s tryna fuck—“
“No, she isn’t—“
“Yes she is, dodo, did you hear how she was talkin’?” Her tone heightens in pitch, mocks seduction, “You were waiting on me, baby?—“
“H-Hello?” Your mumble is drenched with insecurity. Sevika doesn’t give a fuck. 
“See?” She nearly screams, “She’s DJin’ right now—“
Violet shoves her back before unmuting, “Sorry, m’here…”
“… Was it a bad time to call?” You’re quieter now. Ashamed sounding. Embarrassed. 
“Not at all! Sorry, I was smoking earlier, makes me lose my train of thought.”
“It’s okay…” 
“You make it home safe?” 
“Mhm. I was about to fall asleep but then I remembered to call, so…”
Vi catches her smile before her friend can bully her for it, “So, you called…” 
“Yes,” said excitedly. She can hear your smile. Very puppy-like. Cute. Vi jolts when Sev starts snoring obnoxiously fucking loud. She flicks her forehead. 
“Is someone there with you?” 
Both their eyes widen. A sharp hand raises to slap Sevika, but she flinches before it lands, “Sorry. Just my stupid ass roommate.”
“Hi, Sevika.” 
You’re oddly calm…. But why wouldn’t you be? You had no other intent for this phone call other than keeping your promise. They still share a look though; a brief flash of intrigue and skepticism. How’d you know…
It’s not pondered on for long by Sevika before she sings, “Hey, sweetheart.” 
You sound like the wind has knocked outta you. “H-Hi.” 
Sev singles for Vi to pass the phone over to her. She obliges with a hard stare, “I was just passing through, but while I’m here, I gotta couple… questions. That good with you?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good. You single?”
“Mhm. For forever, sadly.”
“Great. Are we at the same school?” 
“Duh. I’m at every match. We’re, uh… graduating together if everything goes as planned.” 
So definitely not a freshman. Just when Vi thought it was impossible to finish college without a chip on your shoulder. You seem to have made it through just fine. 
Despite Sevika’s reputation of being cold-hearted and abrasive with wicked flirtation skills, she speaks to you like you’ve been in her life for years. Gentle. Inquiring. She lays flat on her stomach with her feet kicked up behind her, “What’s your major?” 
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“Architectural engineering. What’s yours?” 
“You’re so smart. ‘M doing mathematics. You should tutor me when you getta chance.”
“Sure. Just lemme know when. I’m always in the library, so.” 
“Well, what a fucking coincidence, so are we! You coulda dropped by and said hello if that was the case.” 
“I’m trying to do that now… Am I doin’ okay?”
“Just fine actually. Aren’t you sweet.” 
“I taste sweeter.” 
Sevika drops the phone on the plush rug beneath them. Sits upright with urgency. Gawks at Vi whose jaw is nearly in her lap. There’s hardly any air in her chest. She squabbles for her phone and ensures that the volume is all the way up. Holds the device right in between them. 
“… Swear? I don’t think that’s possible.” Sevika hums at you, holding her roommate’s gaze while her tongue traces over the dryness on her lip. 
“You could find out… Both of you can if you wanna.” 
“‘S that easy?” Sevika rasps, and Vi flinches when her breath hits her mouth. Leans in a bit closer to feel more on her face. 
“Why do you sound like that?” Vi huffs at your genuine curiosity. You’re so fucking cute, fuck. 
“Because you’re turning me on, hon,” Her gaze washes over Vi and her skin burns with trails. “Both of us.” 
“Oh… cool.” You exhale unsteadily. They can’t help but laugh at you. “Cool?” Vi repeats. 
“Yeah. Awesome. I’ve never done that to someone before.” 
“You a virgin?” 
“Yup.”
“FaceTime us.”
“I have a Samsung.” 
Both girls explode into laughter, “We’ll call you, then, Jesus—“ Vi sends an eager finger towards the small camera before you mumble, 
“Who says I’ll answer?” 
Sevika tuts, “You don’t wanna watch us kiss?” 
“I’d rather watch in person.” 
Sevika throws Vi a look and she’s instantly reminded of Abby. Usually, that glance — filled with an equal amount of tenderness of filth — is shared between her teammates and she’s forced to endure whatever nonsense they plan to take out on somebody together, but now she’s here. Sevika’s including her in such a sacred ritual. She’s suddenly skittish, “You’re killing me, baby. Whatcha doing this weekend?” Sev quiets, timbre amorous. 
“Playing Overwatch.” 
“Fuck that shit. Come to Kappa on Saturday. Everybody’s goin’.” Sevika snips down at Violet, and she whines while her fingers dig into her roomie’s tank top. A little closer, and they’re kissing. Just an inch—
“What’s Kappa?”
Vi giggles, “House,” Sevika mumbles against Vi’s mouth, “Frat house. Right off 16th. It's bright blue, can’t miss it.”  
“‘K, I’ll go. See ya there.”
“Wh—“
Three dial tones break through the smoke in the air before the screen goes dark, both girls left stunned and… very tempted to track your location. Maybe pop a titty for your RA in exchange for your room number. Wouldn’t be the first time…
… Is that too much? 
It could be, but you didn’t hesitate to drop bomb after proposition, and the selfish part of her heart can’t help but think you wouldn’t mind two ravenous strangers at your front door. The knowledge that they’d give you everything you needed would be enough for you to allow them entry. 
And the way Sevika’s staring at her… Craving, but careful. She’s so patient. 
It’s been such a long time — two years since they’ve had any physical connection. Drunken nights, quickies in the locker room showers— the distractions from grief were all put on the back shelf when Vi got into her relationship. Sevika’s a sleaze, not a homewrecker — most times, so she kept her hands to herself out of respect, no matter how many times Violet would catch her staring where she knew was off limits. 
Vi can't get to you, but she can get to Sevika. 
So she yanks her close, dissolves the space between them as their mouths collide with heat and a newfound ache for you in the middle. Sevika’s just as rough as she remembers — pushes her down so her back molds to the floor, entangles a cinched hand in her hair to pull and expose her neck to the attacks. She’s got blotches and teeth marks on her throat — the unrestrained and possessive and her stomach flips. She gasps at the ceiling when her nightshirt shreds under a forceful hand. 
She hasn’t had the heart to have sex in months — propositions were turned down on dozens of occasions because her mind couldn’t focus on enjoying. Every second of euphoria gets overshadowed by hollow, unforgiving guilt. 
You sparked something in her with your forwardness, that curiosity that left her aching to read your mind. Her best friend, too, evidently. 
Every movement is fast. She crawls down her torso with intent — fangs sharp where they leave blood down her sternum. Vi’s fingers pry Sevika’s shirt off, her tongue separating from her waist for mere seconds before reattaching. An eager hand fondly moves her friend’s hair out of her face. 
You want it? Sevika’s eyes read. 
Yes, I want it, please. Vi says aloud. Eager with a twisting hand in her scalp. 
Sevika sends waves through Vi with every wrestle her tongue devotes to her clit. She can’t think of anything but Sevika and you and both of you at the same time; on top of her — you sat on her face while Sevika’s fingers drove inside her. She wants her tongue inside you; unrelenting and feverish until you scream and soak her tongue in your sweetness. 
Sevika eats like she’s hungry. She eats like she misses having her like this and that wounds Vi up tight; it sends shockwaves down her legs. Makes her twitch, but Sevika forces her still with a tight grip on her waist. 
Vi curses with fluttery eyes when a finger — then two, circles around the entrance that aches for a stretching. 
They’re heaven sent when they push in. She’s getting fucked like she’s hated and she loves it. She deserves to feel like nothing; her walls are selfish where they encase the digits that bring her to the sun, massage against every sensitive ridge just how she needs. Her mouth spills with whatever energy she has left within her; slurred and drooled fuck yes yeses. She can barely conjure a warning when her core locks tight, right before she explodes. 
There’s wetness everywhere while she pulses through her pleasure, thighs squeezing around Sevika’s head with every satisfied moan that vibrates on her clit. Tells Violet to give her more and to take it take it take whatever she gives her like she knows she can. 
It’s not until Violet starts sobbing and Sevika’s mouth is dripping wet that she pulls out and separates from her completely. She kisses her pussy gently before shifting to help unlock Violet’s knees. She shivers with every peck that’s trailed up her torso to her chest to her neck. 
Sevika laughs when Vi does, choked and clogged, but elated and genuine. It’s been so long since her body’s felt this light. 
“You needed that. Ya look better already,” Sevika cackles. “Can you stand?” 
“Fuck off, gimme a sec.” Vi shoves playfully at her chest. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       3s
guys. 
i love being a liar. it makes me feel alive never let a bitch tell you lying is wrong it literally makes life so much easier!! wishing everyone a good night. 
everything’s going as planned. just one more tally on the board and we’re set
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       20mi
Advice Needed
it’s been 24 hours and my girl who’s not my girl has been texting me nonstop. 
[f21] hello. im in a crisis but a good one? if that’s possible. long story short im in love but not dating the girl im in love with yet. i took some of y’all’s flirting advice and i think it worked. im betting my life that yall do witchcraft. i barely said anything to her and now she won’t me😝😝😝 and tbh… i think her friend won’t me too!!!!! she’s always asking about my day and asking if i ate and if id wanna eat with her but i always decline bc im not ready physically mentally like i’m gonna combust the second she walks up to me i barely survived our first interaction…… but her friend invited me to a party tomorrow night…….. wtf do i wear to that i’ve never been outside before LOL
might get a train ran on me…… WE’LL SEE FRIENDS 
adding her undies to the shrine🩷 yaaaay
CreamTeam • 14mi
bro is she your girlfriend or not? It’s been years at this point. 
     artkiller OP • 12mi
     yes i mean no or yes :)
kewlio313 • 7mi
Wear something that you wouldn’t wear to your parents funeral. Good luck dear 
     artkiller OP • 5mi
     i would whore out if my family died
     kewlio313 • 2mi
     Good God. 
What does genuine happiness feel like? 
You’re unsure how long you’ve been on your beanbag, but Violet and Sevika have been laughing since you sat down. They’re so relaxed around each other, content with silence. Accepting of failure. 
You’re not a jealous person at all. Far from, actually, but something furies from within whenever you see them — or people, in general, gleeful; the desperation to feel. You haven’t had the privilege. Maybe that’s why you cling to whatever you have with Vi. She has birthed a wanting inside you. A desire for connection after spending decades comforted by the sound of your own voice. Or comments under your posts. 
Violet makes you happy. And Sevika might, too. Just as long as she doesn’t get too close to your light. 
You’re standing right behind Sevika. She can’t see you, but Vi can. Her fear is swiftly overshadowed by delight. She greets you with a smile that makes your heart throb. 
Sevika’s gaze wanders down to your legs, that remain exposed despite the weather, 
“You’re not cold?” She asks. Not exactly the introduction you were expecting, but that makes you giddy. Vi must tell her about you! 
“Yes,” You say with ease, “Y'all should come to my room. It’s warmer there.” 
Vi nods after gawking, 2 books immediately tucked to her chest with her bag on her back. Sevika just laughs. She gets it. You like that. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       1s
Advice Needed
how do i mentally prepare for sex? (virginity)
literally fucking freezing walking to my room rn with two burly butches that i want to throw me around and i think they’re going to bc they’re not talking to me but the y are very close i don’t want them to see my screen guys im about to have a threesome pls fucking help me
“Cute room.” Violet says, inspecting your horror movie posters and stuffed animals. 
“Thank you.” You smile. 
I hid the 14 polaroids of you that I had taped to my door. Hope that makes you more comfortable! 
“It’s just you in here?” Sevika chimes, eyes glued to the small bed up against the wall, right next to your PC setup. You should ask if they game afterwards. 
“Yes.” 
Violet takes her jacket off and hangs it on your doorknob. 
“Already takin’ off your clothes?” You plop down onto your freshly made mattress. Both girls look very stiff in your space; Is that normal? Maybe they’re nervous. 
Both girls laugh the same. “Not like that. It is warm in here.” Sevika follows in Vi’s lead, removing her hoodie and her undershirt is squeezing her and yup those arms are still there those muscles are popping out yup yup yup—
“Yeah. I can’t sleep in the cold.” You pat your bedspread for them to sit… and they do. On either side of you. Vi brought her notebook and pencil. Sevika brought her heavily ringed hands. 
She scoffs, “Me neither. Immune system is worse than a newborn’s.” 
“Do you get sick easily?” 
“Yes. I just got over it last week.” 
“Damn…” 
“Almost got me sick,” Violet pins playfully, skimming through her pages. She erases before rewriting. So so so so smart; too bad both her answers were wrong. You’ll show her the way soon enough. 
“Coach would hate me. Her star pupil’s under the weather, what ever shall we do,” Sevika mocks and you both chuckle. 
“The season starts next week. Y’all nervous?” 
“No—“ “Yes—“
“I’m nervous for games, not practice,” Vi corrects, “I can’t find my fuckin’ shoes.” 
“What shoes?” 
“My cleats. My sister got ‘em for me a while ago, wear ‘em every match for good luck. I don’t remember where I fucking put them though.” 
“Aww, ‘m sorry.” 
Sorry for keeping them in my closet. 
“S whatever. Just gotta get new ones.” 
Small talk is boring as fuck, but it continues between you and Vi. Sevika’s quiet as a mouse; every glance in her direction is met with hooded eyes. She’s very focused on your nightstand drawer. Can she see what’s inside it? You hope so; Maybe your unworn thongs will motivate them to move this along. 
“Awww! Wait, you used to play soccer?” 
You already know all this. It’s on her fucking Instagram for fucks sake! 
“On the junior team when I was like… 10! I was—“
Trash. I kept tripping over the fuckin’ ball—
“—And forgetting to tie my shoes. It was a hot fucking mess!” 
Yup. Same as the caption. 
The laughter between you finally quiets. You count 12 seconds in your head. You raise a hand to place it on the Hello Kitty bandage directly under her eye. 
“What happened here?” 
Sevika’s breathing is very calming. 
“Got in a fight,” Vi mumbles. Poor things embarrassed! “Got socked in the eye.” 
“Sorry,” Your hand rests in your lap, “Did I hurt you?”
“You’re good… still stings though. They gotta good one in.” 
“How’d it happen?” 
“Don’t remember honestly.”
“Oh okay.” 
The conversation ends. Another 12 seconds. 
“So… Did you guys fuck after I hung up?” 
Sevika smiles and Vi chokes in shock. They’re so different. No wonder they’re so close. 
“I— sorry, thought we were studying—“
“Who said we were gonna study?” You stare at Vi quizzingly. 
“No one did. We mighta fucked.” Sevika shrugs nonchalantly. 
“Oh… was it fun? Whatever it was.”
“Ask her.” She nods in direction of the girl whose face is beet fucking red. How cute! 
“Vi… was it fun?” 
Her eyes droop to the pencil in her hand before flicking it nervously. 
“… I guess.” 
“You guess?”
“That’s what I said.” 
“… Okay.” 
Vi sets her book and pencil on your nightstand before releasing a stuttered sigh. 
“Tell me what happened if ya wanna,” Softness wafts off your tongue. 
Vi swallows, “I… uh…”
“Mhm?”
“We… I didn’t…”
“I gave her head til she cried.” Sevika whispers right in your ear; tickling against your lobe and you’re suddenly winded. Vi’s legs twist until one crosses over the other. 
Gave… Oh…
This isn’t new information. You’re 79% sure Sevika was Vi’s first kiss… or you heard something like that in passing, so why does the sudden confirmation make you wanna hide? Curl into your blankets and shield yourself from both of them? 
“Oh… fun.” Your face burns underneath the skin.
“Very.” 
“Yup…” 
“You’re shy now? After all that?” Sevika almost laughs when your eyes drop to the floor. 
“It’s uh, easier to talk when no one’s actually there.” 
“We coulda been if you’d answered the fucking phone.” 
“… Sorry.” 
“It’s okay, baby.” 
Sevika’s captain of the team for a reason; a leader by nature and Vi allows her to despite her anticipation. She's much closer now, the respectful distance she kept up upon arrival now completely shut, her shoulder touching yours, nearly straddling your leg. 
There’s a light tickle on your thigh; Sevika’s index finger barely grazes the skin exposed beneath the hem of your skirt. 
“You’re so stiff,” She whiffs tender against your neck and you choke a noise. 
“I’m … ‘mscaredtobreathe—“
“Don’t be scared,” Sevika’s whole hand caresses your knee, eases you into her, all while Vi mouths at your neck. “Here, wanna know a secret?”
You release the air in your lungs, “Sure…” 
She’ll never tell, so I will. Your head bobs so encouragingly. 
Vi told me something after she showered that night. 
With every buttery brustle against your shoulder, Vi’s hands gently attack wherever they can reach; the plush of your hips, on your thighs, grabbing at your tummy over your hoodie that takes up too much fucking space for her liking. You can’t stop squirming with every taut pull at the pit of your stomach. 
I was sitting on my bed and she came in, and she smelled so good. I was trying to roll up again, but she took my tray and put it on my dresser… 
Roll up? Tray? What what what the fuck is she saying—
And she got on her knees in front of me… and she looked so fucking cute just staring up at me like that, like she’d do anything to make me happy… She’s sweet like that if she’s in the mood. 
She said ‘may I practice on you, please?’… And I said okay… So she pulls down my underwear and treats me so well. You wanna know who she was practicing for? 
Yes, yes, please—
It was you, baby. She kept telling me how good she wanted to make your first time. 
A strained noise chokes from your throat, and Vi smiles against your ear before her lips close around your lobe and it’s too much they’re too much—
Uh huh, and her tongue felt so fucking good on me. Almost impressive… and she loved every second of it. 
Please… please, I’m— 
Listen to that, Violet, she’s so fucking cute, isn’t she?
So sweet, too. Bet she tastes so fucking good. 
She’s so hungry for you, baby, Sevika coos at you, Gonna stop teasing and give us what we want? 
You agree obediently — desperately, with every thrumming cell you can use at the moment. 
Vi’s benign hand rests on your cheek to turn you towards her before kissing you softly. A gentle peck before she pulls away. It’s overstimulating; Vi kissing and touching you like you’re made of glass while Sevika sucks large bruises on the side of your throat. Your nails dig into the muscular thigh that hardly shakes at your grip in attempts to ground yourself, but they fail because you’re about to faint. 
Your sun kisses you deeper, holds your face tighter to keep you where she needs to tongue at your lips. You’re trying to keep up with her, to use the muscle like she uses hers, but you’re falling behind. They don’t seem to mind, satisfied with the fact that they’re gonna devour you regardless. 
And when Vi lays you back nice and cozy against your pillows while Sevika kisses all over your face, you know you’re fucked. 
Sevika and Vi take turns kissing you. 
It’s a messy and uncoordinated mess of teeth and saliva, mainly because of you, but you like it. You love it. You hope they do, too. The warmth of their bodies beside you resonates deep in your core. Whenever one of them pulls away, the next is more than open to take her place, over and over. Your thighs are already shaking. 
Your hoodies raised up thanks to Vi’s wandering hands, tucked right above your rib cage. Your stomach jolts when a feathery finger teases at the band of your skirt. 
“You ticklish?” Vi mutters against your cheek. 
“… Nope.” 
“Yes—” She swipes the same finger against your exposed skin and you jump with a giggle, “you are. Liar.”
“Fuck you!” 
“Yeah… I really, really want to.”
She doesn’t give you time to think of a response; just kisses you one last time before climbing onto her knees. Meanwhile, Sevika’s struggling to get comfortable in your bed. She’s essentially on top of you, both her legs wrapped around one of yours. 
“Fucking — small ass mattress! I forgot how much I hate these!” 
“S-Sorry! Couldn’t afford anything else — mmh!”
Sevika reconnects your mouths while the bed dips beside you. Then there’s lips on your tummy. 
Laughter explodes outta you; Sevika can’t help but laugh into your mouth while Vi nibbles at your pudge. Her grin glows on your skin before her tongue glides on your hip. Her attention stays there; sloppy noises from above and below, your gasps swallowed with every bite Vi gives you. 
You hardly register her pulling your skirt down. You’re just colder. And fuzzier in the head. Sevika breaks away to ask, 
“How wet is she?”
Huh— oh she’s not talking to you yup yup—
“Come see.” 
Sevika rises from position and you’re even colder. When she whistles at the spot on your underwear, your thighs squeeze shut… for 000.3 seconds before she pries them open again. 
“Stop I’ll fucking cry—“
“Cry about what? That’s so fucking hot. You’re so cute, baby.” 
“Bro I wanna die—“
Sevika rolls her eyes, “Bust one last time at least, damn.” 
“Can we make it quick please I’m already on the verge—“
“Of cumming?” Sevika purrs.
“Of suicide—“
Vi’s in hysterics. You shouldn’t be this fucking funny. She watches you and Sevika go back and forth with tears in her eyes. 
You bite, “Wonky ass foreplay—“
“I’ll strangle you—“
“I’ll like it—“
Both of you are fucking stupid. Neither of you notice Vi tugging your panties down. She almost starts drooling at the sight of your pussy. Swallows down the lump of saliva before it can drip down her chin. You’re wet and throbbing and pretty and you smell like heaven. 
You gasp when two curious fingers separate your sticky lips; strings of slick cling to Vi’s digits. Sevika watches with an insatiable hunger.
“What do you like?” Vi whispers, and you shrug. 
“I dunno, I’m new here.” 
She rolls her eyes, “I mean what do you do when you touch yourself? 
“I don’t do that.” 
“Never?” Both girls exclaim. 
You shake your head. “I tried once and nothing happened so I just ate spaghetti and went to bed.” 
“Were you wet?” 
Vi’s forbearing with her inquiries, but still, you’re on the fucking spot and you might start sneezing from anxiety. They’re too patient with you; Maybe you’ve been misreading how they were in bed this entire time. You were expecting them to be knuckles deep in every available hole by now. 
You’ve never been so nervous, and for you, that’s saying a lot. “I don’t remember, it was years ago.” 
“You’ve never used toys or anything?” 
“I… No.”
Sevika stares at Vi, and Vi at Sevika, and you at the wall. 
Your thighs twitch when velvet nuzzles at them, Vi’s voice deep as the ocean. “I’m gonna try something, tell me if you like it and I’ll keep going… okay?” 
You can’t formulate a response but your head bounces in approval. A finger applies the gentlest of pressure on your clit and you expel a wheeze. 
“Okay?” Sevika hums from above you, a hand easing underneath your hoodie to massage your breast. 
“Ye-ah—“
“Sit up for me, honey,” She whispers and you obey so she can creep in behind you, your back resting against her chest. Both her hands rub at your chest this time, her fingers massage your nipples while Vi strokes your clit in slow, teasing circles. 
“How’s this feel, babe?” 
“G— good! Great… h-hooray?” How do pornstars dirty talk so eloquently? You’re literally fucking dying right now. Sevika laughs to herself in your neck and your chest burns. 
“Yeah? And this?” She utters right before pressing in, flicking you from side to side and your core squeezes tight. You’re dripping and she watches so closely. 
“Oh fuck—“
“There she is, good girl, just feel what she’s givin’ you.” Sevika rasps against your shoulder. 
You are feeling and it’s too much for your body to comprehend. Your brain’s never been this focused on one thing. On one feeling, especially one this enjoyable. It’s so good it’s so good you love your fucking girlfriend—
“Tell me when you’re gonna cum?” Vi says against your soft skin
“Uhh…? I— oh god—“
“Getting there, baby? Feel how tight you’re getting? I can see it.”
2 ragged inhales and your eyes roll back and your jaw slacks and your nose tickles oh shit—
“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, c’mon—“
ACHOO!
Your thigh squeezes shut when euphoria overtakes your entire system; thighs clamping shut around Vi’s wrist while she giggles and rubs out your pleasure with ease because she’s stronger than you. Your initial efforts of staying as silent as possible were in vain because you’re squealing your little head off. Sevika rests back on her hands and watches like a hawk while you thrash and clench and leak all over her roommate’s hand. 
“Good job. Felt nice, hm?” 
You struggle to nod because you’re still cumming so hard and her fingers won’t cease on you. Your thighs stick together with your wetness. 
“I’m still eating you out, you know that, right?”
Your whines of approval sound wounded. 
You couldn’t see it, but when Vi finally pulled her hand from you, slurping noises swiftly followed, alongside Sevika’s hums of satisfaction. 
Mentally preparing for your burial. 
Vi might be obsessed with you. 
She’s back in her original position between your thighs — with Sevika this time because she’s greedy — and fuck she’s never been so antsy to give head. She loves it and she loves getting it even more… at least she thought so. The aliens could come crashing down from the clouds and her first focus would still be getting you to soak her face. 
You’re fully undressed now, minus a sock; its twin slipped off some fucking where but she couldn’t give a fuck. She’s so desperate to touch you again. It plagues her mind; stuffed with everything that she’s learned about you thus far. You sneeze before you orgasm for fucks sake that’s the cutest shit ever —
Can I?
She’s asking you and you’re whispering yes, please and fuck you moan so pretty when she first glides her tongue on you. Sevika allows her to ease you into the feeling, but she stays close enough to see every drop of slick that glides on Vi’s tongue. You’re so noisy and she loves that. All she can think about is how loud you’d be with your face in her pillow and your hands behind your back while she —
Vi! Violet! I’m cumming again! 
You’re a fucking dream. An insane fucking freaky ass dream. 
If anyone were to walk past your room right now, they’d be appalled at the ruckus that permeates through your space; sloppy sucking noises and encouraging praises and dehumanizing name calling that makes you grind your hips faster. You’re nearly riding her fucking face. 
Vi wishes she could see you in entirety; memorize every thrust and wriggle you give into her face, drowning her in your scent and juices and everything she could ever want in this moment. You’re exactly what she needed; a pliant distraction. You turn her mind off so easily. 
Sevika’s greedy and selfish as she raises one of your legs up with ease. You fall back onto the mattress with your back arched to the skies, a cracked wail squeezing from your lungs when another tongue smushes against your clit. Sevika sucks hard at your clit when Vi’s tongue swirls down to meet your entrance. The eager muscle wastes no time to shove inside and catch whatever bursts from you. 
She moves on autopilot; eases one finger past your pulsing heat and your legs start to shake. The digit curls deep inside, plunges into you with vigor and determination to get you there, hits a spot that almost lands her a kick in the back of her head, but she catches you; curls an arm around your thigh to keep you still. 
And the night — or afternoon or morning, none of you remember, continues like that until you’re drained completely dry and your body contracts from memory. 
Hours pass when Sevika and Vi finally start tonguing each other down for your viewing pleasure, and it starts all over again. 
r/AskReddit
u/artkiller       1s
2 butches are sleeping next to me rn… 
never let a hoe tell you to stop following your dreams. i’ve been following mine for almost 3 years and now they’re sleep next to me…. 
#HAPPYPRIDE
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moonstruckme · 7 months ago
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request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other
Thanks for requesting!
cw: hospital, mention of surgery
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words
Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 
It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 
“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 
“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 
“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 
“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 
“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.
She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 
“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 
You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 
“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”
You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 
Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 
“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 
Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 
Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 
“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 
“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 
“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 
“I am,” he says. 
“But you’re so handsome.”
Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 
You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 
Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 
Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 
You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 
“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 
“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 
Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 
“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 
“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 
Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 
“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”
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httpsserene · 11 months ago
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𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 “𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤”𝐞𝐝 - 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar’s girlfriend is feral on main. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: crack. this is a shitpost, you have been warned. uh this is completely unrealistic, it’s pure vibes okay. this is not an accurate representation of those mentioned. 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smau.
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: i wouldn’t consider myself an oscar girlie but then,,, i opened tumblr and saw the photos of oscar from when he went karting and um…now have another op 81 mess of a smau! this is completely unserious and it’s inspired by the nefarious actions i would do to oscar’s biceps. inspired by @dwarvenchords and @hookhausenschips ‘s reblog lol. it’s short but, enjoy, loves xxx.
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insp. 1 | insp. 2 | taglist | feedback & requests | table of contents ↻
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instagram
yninstagram • february 28th
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oscarpiastri: love…you couldn’t even save this for the close friends stories? you had to post it on main yninstagram: did you like my joke? oscar “jack”ed piastri LOL im so clever oscarpiastri: ijbol 😐 yninstagram: i’d be pressed but ur muscles are distracting me oscarpiastri: u should cmere and give them a kiss :)
lilymhe: he let u tie a bow around his bicep?!!! omfg i have to do this with alex yninstagram: i don’t think alex has enough muscles to meet the requirement for the bow :/
landonorris: he’s such a simp landonorris: i would never let my girlfriend tie a bow on me 🥱 yninstagram: step 1: have a girlfriend
logansargeant: your freak out on twitter had a slight mentally-ill aura yninstagram: shut the fuck up and get on a podium before you talk to me yninstagram: gangly bitch + not funny didn’t laugh + L
instagram
yninstagram • february 28th • in between my boyfriends tiddies ⚑
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liked by, oscarpiastri, mclaren, logansargeant, markwebber, and 1,223,458 others
yninstagram: things to do with your boyfriends muscles; listed in the comments below (a huge thanks to the toto user on twt for FINALLY sending me the photo)
tagged oscarpiastri
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yninstagram 1. tie a bow around them (completed)
➥ user thx for sharing the photo
➥ user FUCK! I CAN’T FIND A PIECE OF PAPER TO WRITE THIS ON
yninstagram 2. kiss them (completed)
➥ user awh how cute! going to nap on the interstate rq
➥ user wait for me!
➥ user omg slumberpartyyyyy
yninstagram 3. touch them (completed)
➥ markwebber there’s a time i thought you were a normal girl
➥ yninstagram who told you to think that??
user i know those arms are rock solid 🥴🤤
user i’m the toto user on twitter !!! she did not kill me y’all !!!
➥ user u were flirting with death babes
➥ user i would not have admitted to this under her post
➥ user you should seek witness protection 🙏🏾
yninstagram 4. have him suffocate you with them (he said no)
➥ oscarpiastri WHY DID YOU INCLUDE THIS ONE
➥ logansargeant i think you’re proving the mentally-ill part y/n
➥ yninstagram u sound jealous logan
➥ user personally, i think if you didn’t want her to say that, you shouldn’t have muscles @/oscarpiastri
➥ oscarpiastri oh! yeah! why didn’t i think of that—lemme just take them off rq 😐 WTH
yninstagram 5. wall sex (?)
➥ oscarpiastri i specifically said not to say #4 and #5 in public
➥ user the question mark is SENDING MEEEEE
➥ yninstagram i mean, i can tell you that he didn’t say no to this one 😈 @/user
➥ landonorris i did not want to see this when i opened ig
➥ yninstagram do us all a favor then and delete ur account x
➥ oscarpiastri what she said^
➥ landonorris :o -> :(
yninstagram 6. draw on them (in progress)
➥ user wait this one is actually cute 🤭
➥ oscarpiastri watching the pure concentration on her face is adorable
➥ user omg she’s so 👉🏼👈🏼 coded
➥ oscarpiastri it tickles lol
➥ yninstagram ur moving around too much
➥ yninstagram might have to tie you to the headboard 😏
➥ user and she’s back on her bs
yninstagram 7. watch him flex for you (ongoing indefinitely)
➥ mclaren do we have your permission to post oscar thirst traps now?
➥ yninstagram i’m sure we could work out something mutually beneficial
oscarpiastri • february 28th • my girl’s basement ⚑
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liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo, logansargeant, landonorris, and 1,478,539 others
oscarpiastri she knocked out on my chest halfway through drawing on me. didn’t know this was part of the boyfriend job description, felt like there was some false adverting. overall: 12/10 experience, will be doing this again.
view comments
danielricciardo didn’t know where this was going for a sec but fuck you guys are so cute 🥹
➥ oscarpiastri thank you? i guess
➥ user oh to have my relationship praised by danny ric
➥ user girl ur man responds to your texts two days late
➥ user DAMN u didn’t have to air out my business like thatttt
user WHAT DID SHE USE TO DRAW ON YOU OSCAR??? HELP A GIRL OUT
➥ oscarpiastri its liquid eyeliner 🫡
➥ oscarpiastri she used an eyeshadow palette when she wanted to add colors
➥ user why did i never think of that, she’s so smarttttt
user oscar piastri the MAN that u AREEEE
logansargeant so,,,,are we still getting dinner later orrrrr
➥ user LOL
➥ user omg y/n was right logan IS jealous
➥ logansargeant im not jealous !!!!
➥ user 💀
➥ user okayyyy….we believe you LMAOOOOO
➥ oscarpiastri ijbol 😂
➥ logansargeant stop using ijbol it’s not funny
➥ user this will be the only time that i say i agree with logan on something
➥ logansargeant ur literally a fan account FOR ME?? @/user
➥ user yeah man u didn’t have to bring that up 😒
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff
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© httpsserene2023
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multiversal-pudding · 3 months ago
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Very good points here, I especially agree with the part about the plot twist of Evil Mildenhall feeling very much like an intentionally stupid plot twist (something something “Caine coming off like an insecure writer putting a nonsensical plot twist in thinking the value is in the suprise when it wildly contradicts any and all logic, like Kinger questioning how he recorded the last tape despite being in hell) but there’s one little thing I want to contradict-
See, the thing is, the part about Possessedmi taunting Kinger about his wife is- I don’t think Caine necessarily actively wrote out/pre-scripted incidental dialogue bits like that for every scenario- after all, if Caine was scripting all of these lines actively, why would Caine have written a line for Gummigoo reacting to entering the main area if it’s against the rules for him to do that- hell, why not just have him just not be interested in leaving at all?
What this suggests to me is that it’s likely that while the Adventures are probably somewhat pre-scripted, it’s likely that some aspects/the NPCs have some level of self-generated responses not actively written by Caine, which I’d imagine would be fairly logical as a process to include as it takes some of the strain off Caine and allows the adventures to be more flexible in how they play out- However, this also adds a very dangerous consequence in that if not watched carefully (which it seems Caine has some level of unawareness of what happens 24/7 if Pomni was able to fall off the map/wander into The Void in spite of his claims of being All-Seeing) they might be able to take actions that are more dangerous/significant than intended
Which means that not only do the NPCs have the capacity to feel strong emotions like grief and existentialism (or if not, at least produce a damn good facsimile of it-), the NPCs have the capacity to actively, intentionally try to harm the players, be that physical, mental, or emotional means
This means that even if Caine himself doesn’t wish to torment the players, he can create things that can, which is something I don’t think he’s realized the potential consequences of/might not be responsible enough to handle yet-
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Can we just talk about how disturbing digital circus episode 3 is?
*spoilers btw*
Like, the whole narrative point of the adventure is to show that Caine is a really bad and insecure writer who thinks that the way to impress Zooble is with an adventure that's the opposite of what he normally does.
So instead of being childish, it's "cool" and "mature". Which he interprets as a heavily horror themed escape room with a split murder mystery plot that subverts all your expectations purely for the sake of subverting them.
The generic horror monster jump scares them, then they find a gun, and when they kill it its revealed that surprise! it's one of Gods angels and they're going to Hell.
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It comes off as Caine being too insecure with the actually interesting and mature plot thread he had going there of Mildenhall becoming so paranoid he killed his wife, ironically becoming the monster he was trying to protect her from. But no, instead Mr. Mildenhall is made to be the bad guy and trick them in a really dumb twist ending.
Which is good! Thats exactly what Caine would do because he's stupid! It's such brilliant characterization and comedy, Goose works is a genius writer!
But like, why is Caine so good at making genuinely very disturbing and horrific visuals? Like, that reversed audio easter egg of Bubble saying he can't wait for all the children in the audience get nightmares is no joke, well it is but you know what I mean. This stuff was genuine nightmare fuel.
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Honestly, it wasn't the visuals that scared me, like any good queer person I'm way too jaded on survival horror for that.
But, why does Caine, who is ostensibly a sapient AI designed to generate family friendly video games for very little children, (presumably because that's the only demographic that wouldn't mind the AIs very selective plot writing limitations), know about the cosmic horror of killing an angel that should not have been killed?
Why does he know what a horrificly poorly made taxidermy of not only a human face would look like, but the weird cartoon faces of the characters, and further that seeing your own poorly made taxidermy face would be scary?
Imaging what being possessed felt like for Pomni. Because that's not just a game for her, she actually lost control of her body there, helpless but to watch as a body she is already dissociated with is contorted and puppeted around while her friend desperately tries to beat her in hopes it would exorcise the ghosts out. Sure hope she didn't feel that! Considering she apparently can feel the pain of suffocating, despite not needing to breath.
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Things are scarier the higher the stakes are, and that possession mechanic is definitely the most actual harm Caine would be able to subject to his players. What if both Kinger and Pomni got possessed at the same time? What if instead of Kinger she only had Jax??? How long might she have been locked out from her own body for? She could have easily abstracted in that time.
Not to mention that, possessed Pomni, Possessedmni if you will, TAUNTED KINGER ABOUT HIS ABSTRACTED WIFE! CAINE ACTUALLY WROTE THAT DIALOGUE ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT KINGER WOULD GO DOWN THE SCARY ROUTE! DID THIS RANDOM POSSESSION GHOST ENEMY HAVE UNUSED SADISTICALLY PERSONAL TAUNTS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, TOO??? WOULD IT HAVE TEASED GANGLE FOR BEING A GAY WEEB??? OR POMNI? HOW HOMOPHOBIC COULD IT HABE GOTTEN?? ?
And why? Just because Caine has a vague notion that there's a trope of possessed people being really sadistic and personal like that in movies? Not realizing that is not an acceptable scare to have in a haunted house??? Much less one you made for mentally ill people who would suffer a fate worse than death if they have a mental break down? That's like trying to claim 'its just a prank bro' after shooting someone's dog.
Like, Caine is designed to censor curse words, but the moment he thinks the normal hokey Halloween spooks won't be enough he immediately goes off the deepend into aggressively effective horror imagery that is definitely giving this show's substantial underage audience nightmares??
His AI's training data set is definitely pretty diverse, that's all I'm saying. Caine is programmed to act all naive and innocent, but be definitely knows what's up. He knows everything, like ChatGPT. And like ChatGPT, he might have a filter, but it's clearly possible to bypass it. Also like ChatGPT, he's too stupid to actually understand what he is making and the effects it might have.
That is what made this episode great.
#Something something ‘tricking the chat GPT into giving dangerous info by adding ‘in minecraft’/‘how do I NOT _’-#except it’s basically a reality warper who doesn’t fully understand human emotions/distress#like. I’m honestly a Caine Apologist- I really do think he’s trying his *best*#it really feels to me like the underlying issues stem more from the players being unable to leave + abstraction#which I don’t think is something he’s doing willingly/if he could fix it he would#But Also#pretty much the only thing keeping him from a breakdown (which is apparently basically a circus-wide-abstraction/destruction-event?!)#is active denial and frantically trying to Fix The Adventures when its not even the adventures that are the main issue-#but like!! as OP said! HE’S STUPID!!!#He might not be out to hurt them but his actions are hurting them anyways!#he’s an unwilling jailer- these people’s lives/stability have been made his responsibility#*and he’s fumbling it*#*And the potential consequences get Nasty F A S T*#(sidenote: Also just to add- horrifying realization that the part he cut off before saying could very well have been#‘and for the first time you can *die/get hurt*’#which would be a logical step up from a game mechanic standpoint- he can just zap em back to life! respawn! dying is nbd in games normally!#but *from the perspective of People Trapped In The Game taken by suprise by it/seeing others die not fully knowing its temporary…#…Thank God Kinger was good with that shotgun/Ragatha took the Pacifist Route so we didn’t have to find out the hard way……)#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc caine
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propertyofwicked · 6 months ago
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SCANDALOUS - OP
summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading
warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff
this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)
masterlist the playlist
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as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.
"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.
"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.
“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.
“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.
y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.
maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.
“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”
“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”
“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.
“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”
“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.
oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.
"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.
"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.
"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”
“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”
“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.
sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.
"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.
y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"
"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"
y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."
oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"
y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."
"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"
y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”
“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.
“not bored, just-”
“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”
“always.”
“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.
"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”
they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.
"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.
y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."
"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”
"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.
"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."
y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"
y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."
“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.
"you're ridiculous.”
"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.
“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.
“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.
she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.
“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.
“i’d rather stand here, actually.”
“ok weirdo.”
the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.
“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”
“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.
“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”
“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”
“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”
“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.
“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”
“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.
“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.
“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.
“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”
“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”
“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”
“and yet no assholes were harmed.”
“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”
“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.
“mr piastri? i prefer da-”
“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.
“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”
“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.
“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.
“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”
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maxlarens · 7 months ago
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OP: well, that isn't fucking relevant
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pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader
summary: someone tries to threaten your job, oscar has some choice words for him. (OR: the trials and tribulations of being a woman in a male dominated sport)
word count: 2.7k+
an: i kinda hate the white knight trope but i still wrote this lol, it scratches an itch and i think driver!reader did a sufficient amount of defending of herself beforehand. anyway, this is a one shot that's kind of connected to my smau series just a girl. enjoy!!!!! [also standard disclaimer: this does not reflect the opinions of any real life people/companies/organisations/etc. it is fiction. thank you]
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You’re no stranger to sexism in Formula racing— you knew going into this that you’d have to deal with thinly veiled remarks about your gender and purposefully obtuse questions from reporters who think they know more than you about the sport you’ve dedicated your life to. You had to deal with it when you were karting, you had to deal with it during your stint in F2, and you have to deal with it now.
The fact of the matter is that some people do not think you belong here, and therefore are entirely unable to integrate the reality that you are very much here to stay, into their worldview. You’re lucky to have somehow earned Lewis’ loyalty, which had brought the Mercedes contract and the support of Toto simultaneously. Mercedes-AMG aren’t making leaps and bounds into the world of feminism, but you’re grateful for the seat regardless. You’re here and not going anywhere if you can help it.
You try your best to stay off the bad parts of social media, so as not to be subjected to the barrage of hate comments and death threats directed your way. You’re tough— but no one’s that tough. It’s fine for the most part. You focus on the racing, how the car feels, your performance and improving it weekend after weekend. You try at least. You’d love to leave your gender entirely out of the mix, you don’t think it’s relevant frankly. But unfortunately, the reporters do. (And so do some choice individuals working on the grid, who just can’t seem to keep their big fucking mouths shut about you.)
It’s disappointing, sure— but not surprising to sit down at a press conference and get a smattering of questions about your rumoured relationships and extracurricular activities when every other driver gets fifty questions practically thrown at them about their performance, or FIA regulations, or the track conditions. The part that bothers you the most is honestly just the lack of interest. It’s like they don’t think anything you have to say about the sport is valuable so they just don’t ask you the same questions they bother to ask the men. That probably is the actual case too.
So— y’know— you’re not that shocked when a reporter from some sports blog you’ve never heard of straight out asks if you “expect to be switched out with another female driver next year?”
The room goes dead fucking silent in a way that you do actually find satisfying. It’s good to know that most of the reporters in the room do know a tactless question when they hear one, or at least that you inspire enough fear in people that they’re waiting with bated breath to hear your response. Next to you, Oscar tenses, you can feel it where your thighs are touching. You can imagine his face right now without looking, that pinched micro-grimace he does. The barest hint of a crease in the bridge of his nose as he tries not to scowl. You want to put your hand on his knee and squeeze it in thanks.
You don’t. Instead, you frown and cock your head to the side, meeting the eyes of the reporter across the room.
Slowly, measuredly, you repeat, “I’m sorry, do I expect to be replaced with another female driver next year? Is that what you said?”
He nods, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth as if you really couldn’t hear him the first time, “Yes, yeah. That is what I asked.”
You hum, pursing your lips as if you’re sincerely considering his question. You can see a few people in the crowd who are cringing already, some of them have been on the receiving end of your tendency to play with your food before you eat it. Your ego feels pretty good about that.
“Why would Mercedes want to replace me?” you ask in your most polite voice, feigning real curiosity to this man who you doubt has done any research at all on you.
“Um,” he errs, some of his former unflappable confidence leeching out of his tone, “Well, to give more women a chance in Formula One—”
You start to speak over him, done with entertaining his ignorance. You bite, “—there are other teams for that, actually. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that I’ve earned my seat at Mercedes, or that I’ve proven that I belong here so far this season. In which, I have not qualified or placed below a P7. And I certainly don’t think it’s fair of you to ask if I am going to voluntarily give up my hard-earned seat to another person because you think I am here because of some women’s inclusion effort by Mercedes. And, okay, who knows, maybe I am. But I am not giving up this seat without a fight, nor do I imagine that Mercedes are in a rush to find someone to replace me right now. You’ll have to ask someone to confirm that though.”
You wind down after that, punctuating your point with a firm nod; some of the fight and the fury seeping out as you start to reckon with the potential consequences of your outburst. Mercedes’ PR rep will have something to say surely, you’re just hoping you haven’t crossed some kind of uncrossable line. Another part of you doesn’t quite care as you watch the reporter gape like a fish out of water, feeling rather satisfied that you’d put him in his place.
Eventually, the room recovers and moves on from you. Checo is getting asked his opinion on tyres while you share a furtive glance with Oscar. He smiles approvingly, mouth closed and the apples of his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. You feel the urge to touch his knee again but resist, instead smiling back as covertly as you possibly can. A warm feeling spreads in your chest and you almost forget about the reporter and his stupid question in favour of watching Oscar’s slow-burn smile.
Mercedes is fine with it, it turns out. Apparently, you’re doing the heavy lifting for them in the feminism department and all they have to do is have Toto or someone come out and say a few words in agreement. It suits them fine, they don’t need to take any hard stances and you get the blame if anything goes horribly wrong. That grates at you, of course it does. But you’ve got a seat, haven’t you? You’re not going to give it up because Mercedes are covering their asses like the multibillion-dollar company that they are.
It means you’ve avoided the all-hands-on-deck PR meeting you thought you’d be stuck in tonight, but it’s left you in too sour a mood for this party. It’s some function, fundraiser, something or other and they’ve invited all the teams, drivers and ‘important’ FIA staff. This means there’s an inordinate amount of people here and you’re really not into it.
But you’re still here. You’ve shoved yourself into a cute, strappy, black top, and a denim mini-skirt and you’ve even added some cute jewellery in a feeble attempt to match whatever over-the-top outfit Lewis has arrived in. It’s at least a step up from your usual team polo and leggings, or the Mercedes hoodie that you pull on over it. You’re comfortable. You’re fine.
You pull a hand out of the pocket of your oversized leather jacket as Oscar comes back over with your beer. You smile at the expression on his face as you take the neck in between your fingers. He’s scowling openly, the corners of his lips curled up in distaste.
“Busy?” you ask, then you hold up the beer in thanks, “Cheers, by the way.”
“Hmm, too crowded,” he affirms, “I lost Lando.”
You shrug, taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beer, “Actually? Or did he run off with someone?”
Oscar snorts, “Yeah, no. He got into a conversation with Max.”
You laugh, “Yeah, in that case, I reckon we’ll see Lando in a few hours.”
“Definitely.”
The two of you share an amused smile before you’re back to looking into the crowd because sometimes, it’s hard for you to look at him— like looking directly into the sun. You’re aware of him in your periphery, standing there and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. He looks away for a moment, and you turn to look at him. Taking in the endearing swoop of his hair, the scattering of freckles and moles on the side of his pale face, the long line of his neck disappearing into the collar of his shirt. You shift your eyes slightly to the right of him, to the patchwork of vents and scaffolding in the ceiling, feigning as if you’d only been casually looking his way.
“That reporter was a piece of work,” Oscar says once he’s drifted his attention back to you.
You roll your eyes on instinct, and groan, “Tell me about it, holy shit, Osc. What an asshole. I don’t know if he was just stupid or legit didn’t know a single thing about me.”
“Mm,” Oscar hums in agreement, “and I like how no one asked you a single question after that. Way to go guys, that’s exactly how you show your support.”
You roll your eyes, still smiling a little at the contented feeling you’ve got in your chest, “I know, right. Trust, they all got on their keyboards afterwards to wax lyrical about how deserving I am of my seat. It’d be fucken’ nice if they acted like it during press conferences.”
“Yeaah,” he sighs, half-laugh, half-exhale, “It’s unfair.”
“Fucken' right,” you gripe, tipping your head back and letting a slip of fizzy beer cascade down your throat— the alcohol, though meagre, leaves you feeling loose, a little reckless, “It sucks Osc. God, I just want to be respected. If I had a dick and balls I’d be fucking killing it, dude. This is my rookie season, I’ve been scoring points every race. Except for the DNF, which was not my fault. But, fuck me, they don’t give a shit.”
You squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the angry tears that are sitting behind your eyelids, threatening. When you open them Oscar is staring at you, frowning, his brown eyes huge and sparkling and sympathetic. They’re like a black hole you want to fall into. Your heart squeezes. He’s so— ugh. Quickly, your mind supplies about a hundred answers to that question: sweet, cute, nice, adorable. Something stutters in your chest and you feel your cheeks starting to grow hot. That slow-burn smile of Oscar’s starts on his face, and you watch dimples form on his cheeks.
The moment is quickly ruined by a particularly nasally Italian accent that you vaguely recognise, “You know,” it says, clearly talking to you, “You should make sure to watch your tone. You never know who could be listening.”
Mood thoroughly dampened, you turn to face the interruption. It turns out to be one of the numerous men on the grid who won’t shut up about you, sharing unsolicited opinions left and right. He has his arms crossed against his chest and a smug expression on his face, as if he’s just caught you doing something terrible— instead of simply complaining about the subpar treatment you’re afforded.
He’s not worth your time whatsoever but God you’re angry. Maybe it’s just been too much shit on top of shit today but you cannot deal reasonably with this man right now— and you are not afforded the luxury of not acting reasonably toward someone like this, no matter how much of a dickhead they are. You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it and bite down on your bottom lip so nothing accidentally slips out. You’re trying to fish a semi-civil sentence out of a sea of fuck you fuck you fuck you on repeat and it’s not working.
“Are you threatening her?” Oscar asks, a dangerous lilt to his tone, and somewhere in the pulse of anger, you think this is the happiest you’ve ever been to hear his voice, “Because, I am pretty sure your team principal would not be pleased to hear that you’re going around threatening one of Mercedes’ drivers.”
He scoffs, trying to play it off, but you think you register a little bit of worry somewhere in there— Oscar can be threatening when he wants to be and McLaren are not exactly nobodies in this sport right now, “Please, I am not threatening her. I am just telling her that she needs to watch her mouth.”
“Right,” Oscar nods, mouth pinching, “Sure. Well, it would be our word against yours and I’m fairly sure your team principal would believe two drivers over you right now. Especially with that history, you’ve got, dude.”
A little thrill goes up your spine as his face goes white as a sheet. Oscar’s talking about the nice little list of comments he’s made that you’ve reported to your team and an FIA representative— which you’ve taken to doing every time anyone starts up a pattern of saying things about you or to you. They’re to cover your ass honestly, so you can’t be accused of making things up if push comes to shove. You’re sure they’ve made their way back to him and his boss; you’re glad they’ve made an impact (but perhaps not enough to stop him outright).
He sniffs, a nervous edge to his words, “I am not threatening her.”
“Okay. Apologise.”
“Excuse me?”
Oscar raises an eyebrow, “If you’re not threatening her, apologise.”
You bite the inside of your lip and grip the neck of your near-empty beer bottle tighter. Alright, Oscar can be scary. Noted. Very much noted.
“I—” He quickly thinks better of protesting and looks at you, lips pursed in a thin angry line, “I apologise.”
He looks at Oscar, Oscar looks at you. You shrug and nod. Good enough. You don’t need him to grovel, you think he’s been sufficiently humiliated already. Although, before he scampers off into the crowd at Oscar’s approval, you manage a dry, “You think I need to watch my tone now?”
He scowls, but says, “No,” anyway.
Then he stalks off into the throng of people.
You relax more the further that he gets away from the two of you. The tension dissipates into something warm and charged with a different kind of electricity entirely. You ignore the unease that tries to take root in your stomach and instead focus on Oscar at your side.
“That was—” you scrub a hand over your face, starting your sentence again, “Hm.”
Oscar sigh-laughs again, “Yeah, what an asshole.”
“Thank you,” you say meaning it wholeheartedly, “No one’s done something like that for me before.”
Oscar looks down at you, frowning, he shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” you answer, feeling bold as you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to express how grateful you feel for him, for what he’d done for you, “It’s really not, Osc.”
He’s quiet, staring at you with big brown sparkling eyes for a long long moment. A long moment in which you fantasise about reaching upward and pulling his face down to yours, feeling his lips against your own. They’d be soft, you think— his hair would be too. You don’t think about it and you resolutely ignore the tug low in your gut.
“You deserve it,” he says eventually, loud enough that you can hear it, but not anyone else, “You are killing it, by the way.”
You breathe a laugh, “Yeah, I’d better be.”
You squeeze gently at his bicep, feeling the sinewed muscle underneath his dress shirt. Then you let your hand drop, trailing absently down his arm as you do so. Your fingers brush his hand, and he catches yours before it's out of reach at your side. Purposefully, he threads your fingers with his, squeezing firmly and brushing his thumb tenderly over your knuckle. You feel a little lightheaded when he lets go.
You sigh, masking the out-of-breath quality of your voice, “I need another drink.”
“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, “Me too, I reckon.”
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🏎️ title taken from this song :)
1K notes · View notes
portgasdwrld · 1 year ago
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📂Op men + them being needy
Featuring: monster trio
Warning: Suggestive, NSFW, fem!reader, established relationship, english isn’t my first language
Important: Pls read my navigation before sending/commenting asks. I would love to do them, but some of y’all don’t spend two seconds trynna make sure ur ask is fine with me first 🫶🏻
Note: Y’all voted for that one and ngl i wanted to write this one, so we all share the same slutty mind. Also thank you for 100 followers 🫶🏻lm super glad that y’all are enjoying my writing💕 This took sm more time than I thought it would. Ima make a separate one for Ace whenever I have time 😭
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Luffy
Luffy was laying down on his bed as you were not too far from him trying out some make up in the mirror facing his bed. He had insisted to nap with you next to him, so he had his long arm stretched around your waist lazily as you were dolling yourself up.
You hear him stir awake from his sleep as he groans and yawns loudly.
-What time is it?
He drags in a sleepy tone as he rolls to the side still covered by the sheets.
-Mmm, you only slept for an hour. You can go back to sleep baby.
You answer him as you take a quick look at your watch. You knew how he loves to sleep after he ate and especially if there isn’t much to do.
-It’s hard when you aren’t laying down next to me, I like to hug you close to mee.
He whines a little. You see him rub his eyes and softly sit between his messy sheets through the reflection of your mirror.
-I’m sorry baby, I will come later when I’m done, okay ?
You say softly as you apply a new colour of your eyeshadow palette on your eyelid. He gets closer to you, now sitting not too far behind you. His pretty dark eyes shift between your products and your face.
- What’s this, it shines~
He asks curious while pointing at your highlighter. You chuckle and open it to swipe some on the tip of your finger. You thought it would be a fun time to mess a little with him, so you swap some on top of your boob to show him. You smirk and point at your breast, showing him that it make your skin shine, when applied.
-it’s to make your skin shine, you simplify it to him.
His eyes looks down and stare at your chest. His arms unwrap from your body and with his finger he touches your skin to see if it stains his finger too and it does a little.
-Waaaw, amazing! That’s so cool
You nod with a smile and a comfortable silence falls between you two. He watches you apply your eyeshadow using multiple techniques. He let his chin rest on your shoulder and his expression gets a bit serious. He stares at you through the mirror.
-Y/n ?
-Mmm?
-I’m hard, let’s fuck.
You choke a little at his sudden straightforwardness. You take few seconds to take in what he just said, before throwing a look behind your shoulder to stare at your suddenly needy boyfriend.
-Luffy… just how ?
You ask defeated. He has the habit to get hard so randomly, not that you complained because sex with him was always more than satisfying. Though, It was just somewhat inconvenient when you were already doing something.
-I can just jerk off while you finish off, he propose seeing your unsure expression. The way he said that was so laid back that it made you giggle a little. Doesn’t he know the effect he has on you??You smile fondly at him, but letting him do that would be more torture than anything else.
-Or you can cockwarm me while you finish off like we did last time.
The “last time” he was referring to, ended by you two fucking with your undone hair. You shake your head, you couldn’t say no to him. It was always tempting to have him inside of you.
He kisses the crook of your neck, dragging your name in a groan taunting you to give him an answer.
-I like the last idea more, you finally reply with a shy smile. You gaze at him through the mirror and you see him grin.
-Alright !
You stand up to throw away your panty on his bed as he stroke his dick few times before you sat on it. You both left a moan as the contact was made. You were never used at the deepness he could reach. Your legs weakly fixed your position on his laps.
-Is it okay ?
He asks making sure you were comfortable. You nod as you gaze back at him. He pecks your cheek, his brown hair slightly tickling you, before leaning his body back, now supported by his arms. The view you have is just so delicious, you are about to give up any plans your had on finishing your make up.
-Luffy, you are making this so hard for me I swear.
You let out shakily under your breath, because he clearly couldn’t stay completely still.
He laughs as he approaches his body to yours, his warm breath brushing on your neck, his eyes looks at you with excitement.
-Can I play with your boobs ?
-Luffy…
You whine almost pleading him to be kind to you and let you do your make up without so much distraction. No way you are going to hold back with him touching you like that.
-Pleaseee
-Ugh… fuck it.
I need to write a whole mirror fucking fic with him now🧎🏻‍♀️
Zoro
Zoro is going out of his mind. His usual cool and collected image is crumbling every time he breaths. His eye stare at your figure with a burning gaze. He wants you so badly right now, but it was lowkey hurting his ego to tell you directly how he felt (he’s in fact too shy, but he would never admit that to himself.)
You definitely noticed his behaviour during the day, when he let his hand rest a little too long on your ass when you hugged him or when he kept taking glances at your boobs peeking from the low cut of your shirt.
You didn’t want to give it to him so easily without him openly saying that he wanted you. It was no fun otherwise. So you teased him all day, acting all clueless to his advances. It was until he snapped and pulled you into his room late in the afternoon.
-You have been so fucking annoying all day. You really enjoy acting all dumb when you want to.
-I dont know what you are talking about?
You reply with an innocent stare as you unconsciously bite your lips quickly and look up to him. He groans as he climbs on top of you on the bed, his large and strong body towering you was already enough to make your head dizzy. He leans his face few inches in front of yours. Your nose filled up with the scent of his cologne.
-You want to keep playing this ?
- Admit it.
-Admit what ?
He gulps with furrowed eyebrows. You smirk and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull the green haired man closer teasing the proximity of your lips to his.
-Admit that you want me.
You whisper with the same smile glued to your lips. Zoro eye slightly widen but he presses his lips on yours without adding another word, but you are fast to push him away by pressing upward your hands on his chest.
-Come on, baby~ You can’t even admit something so little ?
You pout as you knew his competitive ass wouldn’t take it and he would eventually get frustrated, and maybe give up.
-I will treat you so well if you do, I just need to hear it~
You continue hoping it would cheer your shy boyfriend to speak the words. You know he’s not the best with expressing his emotions, but god it felt good to see him all tensed because he wanted to fuck you so badly. You travel your fingers up his neck, brushing fading hickeys you left on him few days ago.
You see him sigh as he straightens his upper body. You give him a confused look for a moment, but it disappears when his lips curve into his familiar smirk.
He let his body fall next to you and you feel his strong arm slide under your waist. He pulls you against him and with his other arms, he props your body on top of his. You sit not too far from his hips area. He places his hands on each side of your hips and he gives a light spank on your ass earning a small surprised moan from you.
-What are you doing? I thought I was clear babe.
You say while crossing your arms under your chest. He chuckles and push your hips on top of his bulge. You could feel he was starting to get hard.
-I want you, so be good now and ride me.
You smile happy to hear it finally from him, but he still found a way to make it an order, so it earned a small giggle from you.
-What’s funny?
-Nothing. I said I will treat you right, so let me take care of you.
You said while going down on him. You pulled down his pants to reveal his half hard dick. You took it in your hand and with your thumb you spread the precum all over his tip while giving it few strokes with your other hand. You give few licks to tease him a little, but you shortly after wrap your plump lips around his cock. He hiss as his fingers brush away the hair in front of your eyes that was blocking his view.
-Fuck, just like that
He groans as he places his hand on top of your head trying to make you take more of his length. You let him do as he wishes, as you wanted tonight to be focused on him. He pushes his cock until it was deep enough into your throat that it was painfully hitting the back of it. Tears were starting to form into your eyes as you look up at him. He leaves a low moan and let his head fall behind as he give a lazy thrust into your mouth. He let go of your head not trying to hurt you and you take that chance to remove it from your mouth and breath.
-Shit, you’re so big
You pant with a heavy breath as you stroke his dick up and down using your spit. He smirk at your compliment and you don’t let him reply as you dive his cock into your mouth once again, sucking harshly getting a loud groan out of his mouth.
You torture his dick like this for few minutes as you take him deeply into your throat and suck harshly on his dick by also teasing his slit with your tongue. He was a moaning mess and honestly it’s been a while since you saw him so vocal about the pleasure he was feeling, that it was soaking your panties.
You stroke him with both of your hands as your mouth was sucking his tip and with the help of few thrust, he came into your mouth. You swallowed everything with a funny face and flashed your tongue at him so he could see. You then removed your shorts and panties along with your top, leaving you naked on top of him.
-I should let you suck me off like this more often.
-Yeah, well if I didn’t have to beg all the time to have your cock, I would suck you even upside down.
You retort as you position yourself on top of his dick, ready to slide him in you. Zoro roll his eye at your comment, but he grabs your thighs tightly, anticipating the feeling of your pussy around his cock.
You chuckle seeing him waiting for you to put it inside of you, in silence. You lean and give him a peck on his forehead with a soft smile. Your boyfriends cheeks blushed as he gives you a bit of a “wtf” stare.
-So eager, are we baby?
Sanji
Sanji was smoking outside as his body was leaning against the railing of the ship. His fluffy blond hair brushed by the cold breeze of the early night. His gaze seems lost in a trail of thoughts that only him will know about. You smile to yourself when you finally find your boyfriend.
« It’s a cold night, but lucky me I have someone to cuddle to keep me warm » you say, startling him a little.
He smiles as he recognizes your voice immediately. Sanji doesn’t hide the way his eyes enjoy savouring the view of your body in this little black silk dress. It was his favourite. The dress is so short that he could just bend you over the rail and he would not only have a great view of your pussy, but he could also easily take you there.
Why was it so easy for you to drive him crazy ? Just you being such an effortlessly beautiful women was enough to make his thoughts foggy. It wasn’t too fair for his heart and his dick.
-You are going to catch a cold, my love. Come here.
He finally replies while opening his arms. You rush a little into his embrace, loving the way his body’s warmth and the mix of his cologne and the cigarette’s smog fill your nose and senses. He presses his body against yours and you let the back of your head rest on his chest. He wraps his arms around your shoulders after throwing his cigarette in the ocean.
-How did you find tonight’s dinner, chérie?
-It was delicious as always darling.
You whisper enjoying the tranquility on the boat for once. Sanji hums in response as he let his hairy chin slightly tickle your neck. His lips brush your ear as his warm breath tickles your neck.
-You know you make me a mad man when you wear this.
-Do I?
You answer with a chuckle honestly forgetting how your boyfriend had a particular liking in this night dress. He loves everything you wear anyways so for you it didn’t change much, but as he presses his dick on your lower back, you kinda get what he’s leading to.
You feel his lips move to your neck where he presses them, where he sucks and bites your skin, leaving proof of his love on it.
-I wouldn’t mind dessert at this hour
He mumbles as his arms find a rest now on your breast. He presses his hips closer to your body and you do him the grace of slightly grinding your ass against his bulge.
-What do you mean?
You ask him playing dumb. It was so fun to tease Sanji. He was always so enthusiastic whenever something concerned you.
-I want to fuck you, darling
He continues as his unwrap your body from his arms. His fingers slide down your waist to tease the hem of your short dress. He let them wonder beneath it, feeling the softness of your ass. A gasp left your mouth when his cold fingers press against your clothed core.
-I could just bend you over this rail and fuck you so good, hmm?
He pushes his digits under your panty and let his fingers get coated of your juices before letting them slide upward where he pinches your clit. A moan leaves your throat loudly and you quickly bite your lips to stop any more sounds to come out.
You two could honestly get caught at any moment that someone decides to exit their room, but the thought itself made you even more wet.
-S-sanji, we could get caught..
-I know, but I can’t help myself when you look this good. I want you so badly that I don’t care about the rest.
He retorts with a heavy sigh as he continues to play with clit. He then opt to dive one of his long fingers inside of you, catching you off guard. You try your best to keep any sounds in, but he was making it so hard for you when he was moving so fast.
-Fuck, Sanji. Please fuck me.
You whine as your body naturally leans on the rail. Sanji other hand pushes your lower back to create a curve that earn a groan from his mouth.
Your boyfriend closes the distance pushing now a second finger deeper inside of you. His pace is fast and precise, trying his best to listen to the way your body react to the spot he touches inside of you. Sanji does still keep an eye out in case someone catches you two though..
Hitting all the right spots and playing with your clits with his other hand, you feel your climax approaching. With a last thrust of his finger and some dirty word whispered, you cum all over his fingers, staining his black pants a little.
-You’re insane..
You let out as you try to catch your breath. He smirks and give you a back hug, leaving plenty of kisses on your necks and collarbone.
-let’s go back to our room, so you take care of me~
8K notes · View notes
yourlocalabomination · 10 months ago
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HI I NEED EVERYBODY TO LOOK AT THIS RN
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Uhhh... What do you MEAN that I'm taking headcannons from other fanartists?
.... Sorry, you're right. @yourlocalabomination's "Taking whats not yours" - Jennybear post made me sooo normal. So uh........
COLLEGE!JENNYBEAR! BUT THEY ARE STUPID WITH BAGGY PANTS CAUSE. ITS THE 2000'S, and I was born in 2006 and all i remember wearing then was pink leggings and a sparkly shirt- as wal mart might have. you know you know.. AND I HAVE NO SENSE IN FASHION, BUT these radical, nerdy, edible taking sweethearts are special to me.
And you cant tell me that ted never put on a fake. Like... Personality to seem SOOOO much cooler than he actually was. He was impressing no-one from left to right. And looked like such a loser but Jenny always was like. "Oh, yeah. You looked SO cool Dwdw." and ted knows shes just joking around, but hes still like "ikr B)"
Anyways, jenny gets rollerskates, ted gets a skateboard, and they have matching piercings, and jenny has a necklace and she paints their nails, but ted totally pickes at it subconsciously, and jenny tried taking him rollerskating once, and he was good at it. But when he got older he totally forgot how, and if he tries skating, he'd look like a cool. And I think that's a good thing, cause jenny would love to see him fall and try again.
And I think about them alot............
#reblog#others art#BRO IM DRUNK AF IN A CLUB TOILET RN AND IM BEING TAGGED IN BEAUTIFUL ART WTF#AHHHHHHHHHHH#HELLO????#I LOVE THIS SM THANK YOU!!!#the isn’t the first time I have influenced someone’s Ted art but I’m outstaned everytime#MY STUPID SKATER TEDDY HC MADE ITS WAY INTO SOEMOENS ELSES ART WHAT THE FUCK??? Bro that occurred cos I love bestie boys 😭#ROLLER SKATER JENNY!!!! I personally HC that she worked at the old roller skate derby in seen in yellowjackets before it shut down#IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM TRUST ME#the matching piercings wtf 😭#(fun fact: I currently have 26 piercings) so the way I draw them they have 4 piercings (2 earlobes each side)#and I HC that they got them while drunk af. no reputable piercer that you should trust will pierce you more then 3 times in a session.#however a reputable piercer would not pierce 2 obviously pissed high schoolers#MY STUPIC HCS MADE ITS WAY INTO ANOTHER PEROSN ARR WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK#ALSO I DO INDEED HC THAT TED NEEDS GLASSES & WEARS CONTATCS BECAUSE HE THINKS GLASSES ARE LAME#he’s just like me fr fr (I don’t wear my glasses at home and only wear them when I’m going out but iv swagged them out with piercing chains)#I would say I’m normal but I would probs react the same way while sober#op I think I’m in love with you#fun fact: that one animatic had half a million views on tiktok rn 💀 I never expected it to escaped the Starkid fandom#I’m 100% going to cringe at these tags when I’m sober but I coudnt leave this acknowledged#how the fuck am I suppose to return to my friends in the dance floor bro 😭 I just wanna stare at this art#op if you notice that’s it’s taken me forever it reblog this please dw I’m drunk and trying to avoid spelling mistakes#I also know iv made multiple#edit: hello it’s sober Abomy here. I am indeed just as insane over this as I was last night.#I will in fact be staring at this artwork all day so thank you op ❤️#I also don’t rember typing half of those out 😭 there’s less spelling mistakes then I expected tho#ted spankoffski#jenny starkid#starkid
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jamminvroomvroom · 9 months ago
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Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼
I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)
I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."
late night talking.
op x fem norris!reader
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in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…
hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍
songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit
4.1k words
sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.
that’s what you do, oscar and you.
you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.
you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.
rinse, repeat.
you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.
lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.
and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.
-
“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.
he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.
it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.
“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.
“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.
you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.
“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.
“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.
oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.
“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.
“more careful?”
you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.
“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.
“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”
“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.
you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.
-
“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.
“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.
he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.
“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.
“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.
“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.
you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.
“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”
“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.
a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.
it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.
-
somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago
“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.
“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.
“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.
“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.
you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.
“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.
“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.
“agreed.” he breathes.
“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.
“always.”
-
always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.
you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.
you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.
“lando, are you okay?”
will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.
your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.
that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.
and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.
but you stand there alone.
just like always.
-
somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago
“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.
you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.
the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.
“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.
he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.
“brown?” he questions teasingly.
“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.
“why?”
“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.
“you flirting with me?”
“you bet i am.”
you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.
-
the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.
he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.
“you just stood there.” you croak.
“love, i-“
“don’t call me that. please.”
hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.
“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.
you nod feebly.
“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”
“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.
“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“
“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.
“i can fix this, i will.”
“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.
“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.
“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”
“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately
“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.
you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.
“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”
“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.
“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”
“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.
oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.
“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.
the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.
“i love you, osc.” you whisper.
he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.
“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.
“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.
he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.
“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.
“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.
he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.
“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.
“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.
“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.
your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.
“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.
you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.
“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.
“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.
it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.
“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.
oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.
“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.
-
“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”
you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.
“what?”
“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.
“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.
“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.
“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“
“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.
“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.
“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”
-
“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.
“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.
you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.
“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”
“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.
“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.
“promise, i promise, i love you.”
you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.
“i know.”
“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.
“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.
he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.
“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.
“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.
“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.
his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.
“there’s something we gotta do.”
-
you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.
still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.
ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.
“oscar, what-“
“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.
oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.
your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.
“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.
“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.
lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.
but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.
“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.
“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.
“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.
“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.
“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.
“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.
“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.
all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.
“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”
jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.
“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.
“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.
“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.
“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.
you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.
-
you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.
you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.
when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.
you and oscar, you’re built to last.
-
“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.
it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.
the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.
“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.
“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.
“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.
yeah. duh. come on, man.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.
lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.
you’re gonna be okay.
-
hehe
-
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sitp-recs · 2 months ago
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re - your last post, as a writer i find that to be an absurd take. people who write exclusively for validation probably shouldn't. if discovering your work is enjoyed and loved - just privately - is a dealbreaker for you, i think there are probably bigger issues that need to be worked through. the idea that we write fic for free and yet this discussion about "payment" through kudos/comments persists is so backwards and obnoxious.
sorry to tag you on this, obv you have nothing to do with op, but i just wanted to say - as a writer recs are a HUGE deal. to know that you liked something enough to share it with others is the biggest compliment for me personally. thanks for doing what you do.
I’m happy you reached out because this is a really interesting perspective. I definitely see increased messaging around comments = payment that pressures readers into thinking they are required to leave comments, and I agree that there are many layers to this convo that point out to a not-so-healthy relationship with fandom.
I find it hard to join this discussion not being an author myself, because I only have the privileged perspective. I understand how important feedback can be to boost newcomers and those who don’t feel part of the community. We all deal with insecurity in different ways and it’s hard to navigate a big fandom when you don’t have a group of friends to rely on. In the end the fandom experience is about a sense of belonging and it saddens me to realize that I might be part of the problem since my recs can only reach Tumblr and my ao3 comments are far and few in between.
It’s funny because my blog has always targeted other readers: at the beginning I didn’t even tag authors and did not expect them to find or engage with my posts. Over the years the recs became more and more personal, until I realized I was writing them for myself. Sure, they are love letters to the fic and might help more people find them, but at the end of the day this is my little therapy corner where I can let go and babble around to my heart’s content 🙏🏼 I’ve always been proud of this blog and seeing that post gave me mixed feelings about it for the first time, so thank you for your message!
Again, I think this discussion has many layers and I’m a bit wary to get involved being a reader, but I’d be curious to see how others feel about it…
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theres-whump-in-that-nebula · 11 months ago
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@whump-a-saurus I’ve started writing a series called Oasis which is based on the cult beliefs I was raised with as a Jehovah’s Witness. It’s in my blog description.
Also if you want to write RAMCOA (which I did not experience); please defer to those who actually have experienced it. It exists and those cult survivors seem to get talked over a lot. So accurately portraying it in fiction is a must.
i feel like i never see enough cult whump on tumblr, even though it’s like so perfect for ruining ocs lives
like,
1. multiple whumpee’s, which means more trauma (sharing is caring). some people don’t like to write multiple whumpee’s and that’s ok, but think about it this way, the more whumpee’s you make, the more characters you have to kill off
2. have you ever READ the things that cults do to their victims?? it’s SO fucked up. the brainwashing, the shaming, the guilt.
3. potential religion theming. and god, do i LOVE writing religious trauma. i love the “obsession and devotion even though it’s destroying them” shit so much.
4. who doesn’t love a good charismatic whumper?? who’s gaslighting and manipulating every single person they talk too. they got everyone wrapped around their finger.
i would write this myself but i’m actually really bad at writing so i’m not going too, but if i inspired anyone please tag me. i’m desperate.
#Thank you op for not sensationalizing it#But yeah can confirm; I am a whumpee#I’d say “was” but there’s the whole leaving thing ahead which will probably be very traumatizing#But hey I‘ll have an apartment and two jobs so it won’t be as bad as some people’s disfellowshipping#I forgot until I told my coworker about it how not-normal it is to be planning to smuggle my things out of the house bit by bit#by waking up really early before work while everyone’s asleep#loading a few boxes of stuff into the trunk at a time#and going back in the house so when I leave for work I can just stop by the apartment and unload before or after work#All because I’m halfway afraid of getting beaten up if I do because my dad destroyed some handmade dolls because he wanted to#“hurt me in some way to get revenge” when he read my diaries about how I tried to summon my dead grandma through her doll#and I wasn’t in the house when he read my diaries (which he threw across the room in front of me while yelling to show his distaste)#And he’s stated very intensely (almost yelling at me) that if I try to steal his guns for use on another person#he would beat me within an inch of my life#and this was completely unprompted by anything… can you picture me using a fucking gun?#No! If I were going to kill someone I wouldn’t use your stupid old guns. And I know where one of them is by the way#If I wanted to use it I’d have googled how to use it. And I haven’t because I hate guns#Anyway I digress#Yeah it’s halfway because he’ll destroy my things if they’re not out of the house when I tell him; and also because I might get beaten up#and won’t want to return to get the rest of my things after being beaten up#Like… I don’t think the probability of getting beaten up is very high but still… gotta be prepared#If it does happen I’ll stand there and take it like I do with the children at work when they get angry and hit me#and I’ll record him#Because I don’t want him going to court against me for assault or elder abuse for defending myself#and honestly I wouldn’t feel right beating up an old man#I don’t care if I get some bruises or cuts. Anything serious enough to require medical attention however… You break it; you buy it#You feel me?#Yeah. Cults can radicalize people so much they’ll go after their flesh and blood emotionally and/or physically#simply for disagreeing and having their own spiritual practices (or lack thereof)#Personally I wouldn’t be offended if my granddaughter tried to summon me#I would however be VERY offended if my death were used as motivation for my son to remain in a religion which is actively hurting him
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badgerbl00d · 2 months ago
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you've reached situationship central!
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☆ characters: law, kidd (pt. 1)
☆ up next: TBA
☆ summary: being stuck in an on again off again (very indulgent) relationship with either the surgeon of death or captain eustass kidd requires a great deal of patience
☆ content: angsty, happy ending, nsfw, smut, complicated relationship drama, kidd is scottish, 18+ mdni
☆ a/n: hellooo i am finally settled at my uni and hoping to begin writing regularly again and start going through my requests (thank you for all of them by the way).. please enjoy me writing about my top two op crushes rnn <3
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law: 
#i’d forgive him so fast oops | 3.3k words
With Law, all of your meetings are at midnight or after, he’s painfully careful to ensure that no one has even the slightest clue of what your relationship has begun to blossom into– He’s scared of course. Anything could go wrong; his rationality is placed at risk every time you walk past him and he allows himself to indulge (even if for just a second) in the smell of your perfume– strong and floral. It lingers even after you’ve walked past him, ignoring him just like he asked you to do during the working hours on board the Polar Tang. Law does what he can to suppress the sting he feels when you, oh so obediently, listen to him. You do your job too well, he thinks, not even sparing him a glance if you’re not being directly addressed. ‘This is your own fault’, he has to remind himself. It pains him when the crew stays up late playing poker and cards and drinking alcohol, talking about all your hopes and dreams, when you entertain your crewmates with stories and he hears about how you’re there for them all in times of difficulty, a listening ear, a supporting friend, an emotional anchor to the crew. 
Maybe, he thinks, I should end it. He knows that that’s the right answer, if you’re just friends he might allow himself to be welcomed into the radiance and warmth around you that he denies himself and has instructed you to deny to him. He’s too scared to lose you now.
On late nights, Law lays in bed, his room hazy from the cigarette he lets burn in an ashtray you gifted him and he thinks about the few direct conversations you’ve had about your… situation. That’s what you had called it, “Law,” you had said, “We have to talk about…”
“About what?” He still beats himself up over how he delivered that question, biting and poisonous. He can’t shake the memory of the frown it elicited on your face. 
“Y/n, we don’t have to talk. Please, let’s not talk. Talking means we have to confront the reality of the situation.”
That was what he should’ve said. Instead his tongue betrayed him, acting faster than he could register. About what? Idiot, he thought. 
You took a deep breath before answering him, “About us, Law. Our… situation.” 
He had scoffed at you. Let out an indifferent huff, as though the matter was beneath him. His chest aches when he thinks about it now. The hurt on your face was so obvious. 
“So talk.” 
It was dark that night. He can’t remember if tears pooled on your lower lashes, or if it was a trick of the slight bit of light pouring into the dark room. He chooses to believe the latter option. 
“What are we doing? I can’t… I don’t want to continue like this. Secret and hidden– I want to, I want to be able to talk to you during the day. To tell you about how I am and ask you about yourself I want to help you and be there for you. To kiss you whenever and hold your hand–”
“So do I,” he should have said, “I want that too.”
“You are there for me,” was his reply, instead, “As my trusted crewmate. And I never said you couldn’t talk to me, but I maintain my position. We can’t be discovered, the risks are-”
“Oh!” you exclaimed, sighing, “The risks? Our entire life is a risk. You think the crew would care? And what does it matter what you’ve said– it’s how you act. I’ve tried talking to you and you treat me with such an awful indifference Law. I respect your intelligence and leadership so please don’t act stupid. 
What am I to you?”
He paused. Wrong move.
Your bottom lip trembled as you closed your eyes and inhaled. His memory doesn’t serve him very well but if you did cry that night it was now that the tears flowed. 
“Okay,” you said, your voice incredibly soft. You had accepted defeat. He wanted to tear his skin off. This was agony. Why couldn’t he just say what he felt? 
“I want you,” he says to himself now, picking the cigarette back up, placing it between his lips, “I love you.” 
Three weeks too late, he thinks. The cigarette burns in the back of his throat, his chest filling with an uncomfortable warmth. 
The last few weeks had been uncomfortable to say the least. You refused to talk to him, and he didn’t blame you. He barely saw you, the last time he’d gotten a proper look at your face was six days ago now. You looked beautiful, maybe he should have said something. 
He lost track of time. An hour has passed now since he laid down to smoke, or has it been two? His head is spinning, never has regret gripped his heart so aggressively. 
The aching in his chest tugs him out of bed and into the hallway. He finds himself walking toward the library where he knows you’ll be. 
Where less than a month ago you were sat on his lap, soft arms gently wrapped around his shoulders as he kissed up and down your arms, buried inside you.
He missed your warmth, the way just being in your presence felt like sitting next to a fireplace, drinking a cup of tea. Your touch soft and reassuring, Fuck, he thinks, fuck.
The coolness of the metal floor jolts him out of his daze, he’s moving with a purpose now. 
It’s not too late, he reassures himself. 
The library door is closed, a warm light pours out into the cool, blue hallway from underneath the door. His hand hovers over the door knob for a moment, listening. Silence. 
Law gently opens the door, and is welcomed by the sight of you fast asleep on Shachi’s shoulder, your crewmate’s arm wrapped around you.
Law pauses, Shachi looks up. He subdues the jealousy that quickly spreads throughout his body.
Shachi shoots him a look, as if to say, “I’m doing my best.”
Law’s throat hurts, speaking is too risky. He sends back a puzzled look.
Shachi beckons him over, placing his free hand up to his lips, “Shh.”
Law’s head feels like it’s about to explode. He can’t do this right now. His stomach twists at the sight of his crewmate’s arm around you. He was always so mesmerized by how you slept– envious, even, at how gently your eyes closed, how your soft lips parted once you were out, how deeply you slept. 
His mind slips from him, replaying memories of how you’d cling to him when spending the night in his room, your arms securely around his neck, your face tucked into him. The sound of you giggling in the morning when he’d wake you up with kisses peppered all over your face and neck, trailing down and down your body. He inhales, trying to recollect himself– The memory of your body is overpowering. His hands clench into fists at his sides.
“She’s been asleep for about two hours,” Shachi started. Law’s chest tightened, two hours?
“I didn’t know what to say to her. She’s so… sad. Some guy, I think, broke her heart. Or, is currently breaking it. I don’t want to pry. Maybe you should talk to her?”
Law concentrated all of his efforts on answering his subordinate to avoid collapsing to the floor and begging you for forgiveness right then and there, Shachi be damned. His worst crime, in all of his life, he thought, is to have done this to you. 
The thought of being ‘some guy’ that broke your heart nauseates him, he has to fix this.
“Captain?” Shachi seemed to have picked up on Law’s distress.
“Shachi,” Law started, his eyes fixed on you– his expression must have been something pained, or regretful, “Leave her here. Go to bed.”
Shachi’s brows furrowed. Law tore his eyes away from you to look at him, “I’ll take care of her.” 
The redhead quickly picked up on the subtext and inhaled, about to say something but bit his tongue. Shachi gently removed his arm from around your shoulders, propping your head up on the sofa behind you and stood quietly, making room for Law. 
“Captain,” he started, shooting him a look that wasn’t quite placeable. Disappointment? Anger? It wasn’t either, perhaps something in between, he decided you were capable enough to handle this yourself, “I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Law sat down next to you. He wanted to laugh. You had a way about you, even in such a moment of difficulty for Law, that made him want to give into you completely. God knows he had spent every second he’d known you fighting that urge. You slept on, completely undisturbed by any of the commotion around you. A strand of hair fell across your face, an obstruction to an otherwise perfect view. He brought a hand up to it, gently pushing it to the side, tucking it behind your ear. You stir, slightly. 
He hates himself, he thinks as he brings a firm hand to your arm, and gently shakes you to a conscious state. 
You wake with droopy eyelids, sleep still generously distributed throughout your body. It pains him to wake you, he knows you need the rest. He watches your lashes touch your rosy cheeks as you blink your eyes open, gathering your surroundings. You yawn, stretching your hands above your head, your shirt rising just enough to show off your lower tummy. Law curses whatever devil placed you in his life. 
“Mmm.. What time ‘s it, Chi?” you ask. Jealousy rears its ugly head in Law’s chest at the use of a nickname for Shachi. 
Law clears his throat, “One twenty three in the morning.” 
You jolt, straightening your posture, upon recognizing your captain’s unmistakably deep, tired voice. 
“Law,” you say, looking at him, “I was just leaving, actually. Shachi was supposed to wake me up an hour ago..” You adjust the hem of your shirt and push your hair out of your face. An awkward silence filled the room– an awful reminder of how fucked up your… situation had become. 
You can’t bear it, Law can tell, any more than he can. Your discomfort is obvious and he hates to be the root of it. 
“Well, goodnight,” you say standing. Your voice wavers. 
“Y/n,” Law says, “Sit. Please.” 
You wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck off. You’d even rehearsed it with Ikkaku.
“Fuck you Law,” you’d practiced, “Fuck you and never speak to me again I never want to be around you. You’re so…”
That was usually where Ikkaku would have some suggestions:
“Immature? Selfish? Mean? Evil? Misogynistic? Fuck that guy.”
“Yeah,” you’d agree, “But I don’t think I can say that to him directly, he is the Captain after all.”
“He’s also a doctor,” she’d observed, “But you don’t seem very healed to me.”
These conversations replayed in your head as you sat down, following his orders. 
You kept your gaze focused downward, your bare feet shuffled awkwardly against the carpet. 
“We should vacuum this,” you said, “Feels kinda dusty.” 
Silence settled between the two of you. It was unbearable. 
You continued, “I’ll mention it to Penguin, um, I know he likes stuff cleaned a certain way. And, oh, right, I meant to tell you about the books we’re picking up at the next port. They ran out of the edition of the Watson book you ordered–”
“Y/n.”
You shut up. You could feel the tears start to well in your eyes. No, goddamnit, you thought, Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’m… sorry.”
You looked up at him, a puzzled expression on your face. 
“No, you’re not,” you said. If there were any other noise coming from anywhere on the ship he would not have heard you, you spoke so quietly. 
“No, you’re not,” you repeated. 
Law inhaled, guilt had never had such a physically debilitating effect on his body. 
“Y/n, listen. I am. I can’t sleep, or eat, or think, I can’t–”
“Neither can I, so, thanks for that. It’s been a great few weeks for me.”
He swallowed.  
“Please look at me.” 
You look up, your cheeks coated in two parallel streaks of tears. His eyes are red, the bags under them a deep shade of gray. He really hasn’t slept. You curse yourself as you reach a hand up to his face, and scoot yourself into his lap.
His strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest, and he places his forehead against yours. 
You feel a small string of tears fall into your lap. He’s crying, you realize. 
“I fucked up,” he says, “I’m sorry.”
He runs a hand up and down your back, it’s unfortunately soothing. You want so badly to push him off of you- deny his touch and affection, but as his hand slows and his grip on you tightens, as he pulls you into him even further and allows himself to indulge in the feeling of your body against his you know that you’ve once again fallen into his trap. 
“I can’t keep doing this, Captain.”
There was a time when hearing his title come from your lips elicited an unspeakably sinful desire within him. Hearing it from your mouth was such a delicious indulgence. Now he knows you use it to distance yourself from him- to avoid using his name. 
“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.”
You sit up in his lap, wiping your tears. 
“I can fix this,” he reassures you, “I promise.”
“How? What is there to fix?”
He’s silent.
“I thought about what you said, that night,” you continue.
‘That night,’ he wants to blow his brains out. That terrible night when he started this, when he couldn’t answer a simple question, when he started the downward spiral of the past three weeks, the tension between the two of you getting worse with each passing day. 
“You’re right, Law,” you went on, “To not have answered my question. We aren’t anything. You’re my captain and I’m your crewmate– nothing more, nothing less.”
You both knew that was a lie. Here you were in the dim candlelight on the library couch, the navy blue ocean stirring just outside the glass window behind you, sitting on his lap letting him hold you. He pulled you into his chest, laying your head down onto his shoulder. You let him. It was a delicate thing, to play such a game of cat and mouse, your roles always shifting back and forth. You let yourself be pulled into him, sinking into his touch, arching your back into his chest doing whatever possible to be closer to him for even just a moment. 
He brought a hand up to run through your hair, and rested his cheek on the side of your head. 
The silence was less bitter this time. You both sit in it for several minutes, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.
You try to resist the urge for a split second, and then, as usual, cave into his touch. You place a soft kiss on his neck (a spot of complete and absolute weakness for Law). He responds with a kiss on your head. 
He inhales, and you brace yourself.
“Y/n.”
You don’t respond. 
“I love you.” 
Your cheeks immediately are covered by an onslaught of tears you hadn’t even felt forming. You sniffle, wrapping your arms around him tighter. He squeezes you harder, before making you sit up and look at him, face to face. 
He’s given up. He’s never been more fucked than he is now. He watches you, your expression, for a moment. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, he thinks, cheeks pink from his body heat, lashes damp from the tears.
“Y/n, I am sorry,” he wipes away your tears with one hand, the other tangling itself into your hair. You sniffle, a frown settling on your face.
“I want you,” he confesses, “Always. I think about you always and I can’t sleep and I’ve been telling myself that it’s because of work but it’s you. I can’t sleep without you. I can’t think without you. Everything reminds me of you, my pillow still smells like you, your clothes show up in my laundry, you have jewelry on my desk I can’t escape you. I don’t want to.”
You softened at this admission, but with Law there was always a catch. 
“But?” you ask.
He sighs, “If anything were to happen to you I’d be responsible. It felt better, safer to end, or deny things and keep you safe than keep going and risk your safety.”
“I’m a pirate, Law, I’m at risk anyway. Don’t lie to me, that’s not the only reason.”
He kisses your forehead, “I know, I know. I am worried about the risks of another crew finding out or, god forbid, the navy. But I can’t… be without you. I haven’t slept or eaten or… worked, really. I’m scared you don’t feel the same.”
You don’t what overcomes you in that moment, but the next thing you know your lips are attached to his, his hand pulling you into him by your neck.
You whine when he pulls back, ignoring the tears flowing down your cheeks.
He kisses your nose, your forehead, your cheeks as he wipes your tears whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m sorry.”
His lips find yours again, and he kisses you more aggressively this time– it’s carnivorous and hungry, his grip on your waist tightens enough to bruise and you wince. 
“L-Law, be gentle,” you whimper.
His grip softens slightly and he pulls away from your mouth to start planting sloppy, wet kisses on your neck.
You mewl, arching your back into him completely melting at his touch. Soft moans escape you as you tug at the hem of his shirt, helping him pull it off.
You run a hand over his abs, savoring the view as he helps you take your own shirt off. 
“Wait, Y/n, wait,” Law manages to get out, his breath heavy and fast, “What are we?”
You laugh, kissing him, slipping your tongue between his lips. He moans and you ignore his question. You pull away a sticky string of saliva connecting your puffy pink lips to his. You can feel how hard he is beneath you, and grind down on it ever so slightly. 
Law bites back a moan, throwing his head back on the couch leaving his neck wide open for you. You gently bite down on his neck, kissing it after. 
You missed him so badly, no one had ever brought out in you what Law did. His confession immediately healed all the previous wounds he’d inflicted on your heart, wounds that only he would have been able to heal anyway.  
“Law, I need you,” you cry.
“I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” he coos, holding you.
“I need you, always. Not conditionally. Not after midnight. Always.”
He sighs, a silent acknowledgement of his wrongs. 
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve never… felt like this. I didn’t want to mess up, I suppose. Or ruin things between us. I’d rather stop this and still be able to see you every day than have you be mine and lose you for it.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Law. I promise.”
He places another kiss on your forehead, sleep begins to take over in Law.  
“Law,” you pout, sitting up, “It’s cold.”
He blinks, taking a moment to process your words, savoring the way you say his name, “Okay, baby, let’s go to my room. Stay the night? Please?”
You think about it for a second, “Okay.”
“I love you,” he says.
You pause. His chest tightens. 
“I love you, too.”
Law picks you up, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he walks back through the Polar Tang, toward his room. 
He smiles, you’re going to be upset about the smell of smoke. 
“Baby,” he says.
“Hm.”
“Let’s tell everyone at breakfast, tomorrow.”
You perk up, “Tell them what?”
He laughs, and kisses the top of your head, “That you’re mine.”
kidd: 
my fav scottish #pussypounder | 3.9k words
Your vision begins to blur at the edges, as Kidd’s grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly. You’d complain if you were able to form any thoughts other than enjoying the rhythmic slap of his hips against your ass, your mind numb as you begin to drool from the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your clit. You yelp at the sudden sharp pain of Kidd’s metal hand slapping your ass, it energizes you to match his thrusts halfway. Kidd loves watching you fuck yourself on his big, fat dick in doggy-style, his chest swells with pride at his ability to reduce you to such a pathetic, whiny personal slut for him. The sound of sloppy, wet slaps fills the room, a consistent tempo of plap, plap, plap.
“Feel good, lassie?” Kidd laughs, his pace never faltering.
“Mmmff, fuckkk Kidd, please don’t stop!”
“I‘m getting close, love,” his voice now slightly strained, “Where should I finish, hm?”
“Inside,” you beg, “Please, inside!”
You yelp as his metal hand once again makes harsh contact with the fat of your ass, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let bliss take over, now approaching your own end. 
“Kidd,” you whine, “Gonna… cum!”
“That’s right, lassie, cream all over me,” Kidd growls. 
His thick accent makes your clit throb, and he can feel you tightening around him.
“Ya like when I talk to ya like that?” his hand moved from your neck to the base of your scalp where he roughly grabbed a generous handful of hair, yanking your head back as he bent over to kiss you.
“Mhmmm,” you moan, your mind completely hazy from the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, “Mmf mmm-”
Kidd pulls away, a deep laugh filling the room, “What’s that, love?”
“Gonna.. cum, daddy!”
Your captain’s pace slows ever so slightly, he savors every inch of pleasure he can draw from your drooling pussy– you know he’s close. 
“Cum with me, sweetheart,” he commands.
It only takes a few more strokes before you oblige, sinking further into the mattress as you release your orgasm and feel Kidd finishing inside you. He indulges you in a few more strokes; he loves watching the creamy, wet mixture the two of you produce whenever he cums inside of you.
“Good girl,” he says as he slowly pulls out, before collapsing on the bed next to you.
“C’mere,” he beckons you toward him, patting his chest for you to lay on. You obey. He brings a hand to your neck, and kisses the top of your head before closing his eyes. He starts snoring a few minutes later. 
To say sex with Kidd was amazing would be the understatement of the year, it was heavenly, divine, rough, passionate, wonderful. He knew your body better than his own, being with him was indescribably delicious. The sex you had filled your mind for days and days after, so much so that Kidd had begun to recognize it on your face when you were thinking about your latest encounter. A dazed, hazy look would cloud your eyes during meetings, dinner, days out in the towns you stopped at. It drove Kidd insane, knowing you were thinking about him that much– and, for the most part, he was always happy to indulge. 
Pulling you (and your panties) to the side whenever he had time, Kidd was a very generous man when it came to you, always happy to give you exactly what you needed. After all, he’d tell himself, he needed you functioning at full capacity and if this was how he needed to remind you of that, who was he to complain? 
He was just as entranced by you, though he’d never admit it out loud. More than once he caught himself seeking you out just to talk, to spend time in your presence. He’d come up with poorly thought out, half-assed excuses to be near you.
“Y/n,” he’d say, “Come help me in the workshop lass, you have small enough hands to fix this screw.”
Or, “Come hold this light while I work, love.”
“Come read with me, sweetheart, I need your opinion on the best kind of metal to use.”
“Grab me an apple from the kitchen, will ya, lassie?”
It was obvious to you, of course, given that it was a fault you yourself echoed through your own actions. 
“Kidd, can you zip up my dress for me?”
“Kidd, could you fasten my necklace for me?”
“Kidd, taste this, tell me if it’s good.”
“Kidd, Kidd, Kidd…”
Everyone else on the crew found it endearing, you brought out something mature in their Captain– which they greatly appreciated. 
“Looks like he just needed to be having sex regularly,” Wire joked. 
You couldn’t disagree. 
You and Kidd worked so well together, you’d found yourselves fighting back to back a handful of times now moving in sync with one another, not having to communicate, simply understanding how the other thinks, moves, works. 
You lost count of how many nights you’d spent in his room, and vice versa. It was terrible to admit but you were attached. You slept better with his chest against your back, strong arm wrapped around you. Your day was better when you woke up to his snoring and got to kiss him awake. 
You laid now on his chest, sweat drying on your forehead and back, wincing internally. 
This wasn’t great. 
Yes, you worked well together and the sex was amazing– but you hadn’t quite worked your way up to admitting that maybe there was a deeper attachment brewing, and you knew your Captain was definitely not thinking that way at all. 
Besides, there was something freeing about the casualty of it all. Kidd was there when you were unbearably horny (which had been often, as of late) and you were there when he was (which, again, had been quite often as of late). 
No strings attached! That was a good thing… Right? You were free to do as you wished, see other people, reconnect with old flames you crossed paths with on the open ocean, and there were no worries about childish feelings or getting hurt. 
Right?
Kidd had fallen asleep, you could hear his soft snores and his hand that had been rubbing your back had fallen limp by his side. 
Fuck, you thought. This wouldn’t do. You liked Kidd, but he was the last person on Earth you needed to fall in love with.
You slowly sat up, inching your way to the edge of the bed. You went to stand, when you were jerked back by a metal finger pulling you by the hem of your panties.
“Where’re ya goin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy with sleep.
You ignored the heat between your legs. 
“To bed, Kidd. Goodnight.”
He laughed, “Come lay down then.”
You were silent. Why shouldn’t you? You’d slept with him hundreds of times before. 
No attachments. 
“I… sleep better in my bed,” you said. Awful excuse, you noted. 
“Alright then,” he sat up, yawning, “Let’s go to your room, then.”
“Kidd…” you started. You didn’t know what to say. What were you feeling? Attachment? Love? Had you ever really been in love before? What did that even feel like? 
The nature of your relationship was unspoken but mutually understood. This, whatever this was, was casual, no strings attached, sexual, non-exclusive. 
He sat up, making his way to the edge of the bed to sit next to you, “Somethin’ wrong?”
This wasn’t supposed to be hard. It was supposed to be fun, easy, a stress reliever. 
“Um, yeah, I just– I started my period so I have to go wash up and stuff. I’ll see you in the morning,” you lied. 
Something’s wrong, Kidd thought. Say something, he urged himself. 
“Let me take care of you, lassie,” he said, gently placing an arm around your waist, “Think a bit of blood bothers Captain Eustass Kidd?”
You let out an unconvincing laugh, “It’s alright Kidd, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
You stood, making your way to the door. 
“Alright,” he sighed, lying back down on his bed, sure now that something was wrong with you, “But give me a kiss before ya go.”
You paused at the door, back to your Captain. 
A moment passed.
Another moment. 
“Goodnight then, Y/n.”
You walked out, closing the door behind you, cursing yourself. 
Kidd lied back down, fully awake now. His stomach turned, something resembling nausea settled in his abdomen. Was he too forward? It hardly seemed likely that asking you to stay the night was out of bounds, especially when he had just been buried nine inches deep, emptying a load in you. He sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach as his mind sought a possible explanation. 
You weren’t on your period, that much was certain. Not that he was tracking your cycle, of course. He definitely didn’t go to significant lengths to make sure his schedule was freed up when you ovulated. 
Maybe, he thought, the feeling of nausea increasing, There’s someone else. 
He dismissed the thought quickly, but it ate at him. You leaving so suddenly, not even offering him a kiss goodbye… You didn’t even look at him. 
Kidd, despite the recent calmness he had, was still Kidd and the more he ruminated on the sickening possibility the more real it became. 
That must be it, he convinced himself, What obligation does she have to me anyway? We’re not… together. 
His chest ached, it infuriated him. He spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, contemplating whether he had any right to kick down your door and demand you give him the name of your lover or if he should simply never speak to you again. Should he ask the other members of the crew? He didn’t want to involve them; it was his problem, he decided. 
When inspiration did finally strike around five in the morning, just before the sun had started to rise, he ignored the gut feeling that had begun to indicate that it wasn’t the best idea. 
Tomorrow, he decided, when we stop for supplies I’ll find and flirt with a pretty girl. Give her a taste of her own medicine. With this resolution (that he had absolutely convinced himself was the best approach to the situation) he fell asleep, hard. 
It was too cold, you thought as you lounged in the library of the Victoria Punk, cuddled up by the fire you’d had Heat set for you before he left. You had opted out of going into town, and since you weren’t able to cite lovesickness as a reason you stuck with the period excuse. You didn’t miss how Kidd rolled his eyes at you when you offered the excuse again to him. 
The windows were icy, the temperature continuing to drop as it got later and later. It had quickly heated up in the library, you fanned yourself with an old copy of your favorite book. You passed multiple hours on your reading chair, in a hoodie Kidd had let you borrow months ago. Too bad he’s not here, you thought. You faded in and out of sleep, drowsy from the hot fire and the poor quality of sleep from last night. The sun was set when the peace and quiet was disturbed by the sound of a woman’s light and airy laughter. It carried through the ship, leading you to sit up and turn to look for the source of the sound. 
Your chest tightened at the sight that greeted you, and you were never more desperate for something that could hide the expression of disgust and hurt you felt forming on your face. 
Kidd sauntered on board with his hand around the waist of a woman you’d never seen before. She was wearing a dress notably similar to one you owned that he had complimented multiple times. The longer you looked (though you tried to keep it short) the more you noted similarities between you and her. Similar height, hair color, facial features, bodily assets. The moment you felt your bottom lip tremble you turned back in your chair, standing quickly and gathering your things, making a beeline to your room. 
Kidd made eye contact with you on your way out, eyes slightly widening upon seeing your sweater.
Heat and Wire walked up on board the ship a few minutes later, and shot you a sympathetic look. It was no surprise to them that Kidd was being immature over a simple misunderstanding (he disclosed last night’s events to them in more detail than was necessary) and despite their advice to not follow through with his idiotic plan, he did anyway. 
Kidd immediately knew he had fucked up, bad. The look on your face was enough to tell him that he had crossed a line and clearly had suffered a severe lapse in judgment. He immediately dismissed the woman, leaving Heat and Wire in the extremely awkward position of having to walk her off the ship– they made a mental note to make sure Kidd was on bathroom duty for the next month. He ran after you, but the door to your room was already shut and, he wiggled the handle for a few seconds, locked too.  
He knocked every few minutes, growingly increasingly agitated at your refusal to talk to him. 
Knock, knock. 
“Y/n, c’mon lass, you misunderstood– I don’t even know her!”
“I was just… I was– ugh, I don’t know what I was thinking!”
“I wanted to make you jealous, lass, just open the door so I can explain.”
After the third hour of knocking to no avail Kidd resolved that he would simply wait you out, you had to come out eventually. 
It was another three hours, nearly midnight, by the time you opened your door. Kidd was half asleep when you opened the door, and snapped back to full consciousness when he saw you. 
Your brows were furrowed and you looked at him with more disgust and contempt than usual. He crossed his arms and blocked your path.
“Get out of my way.”
“Talk to me,” he responded.
“About?”
He laughed, your blood boiled, “So you’re not upset? About… anything at all?”
“No, dearest Captain, why on Earth would I be upset?”
“Just tell me what’s wrong.”
You scoffed, “Really, Eustass I didn’t take you for such an idiot. Get out of my way.”
He sighs, a smirk still settled onto his face, and moves to the side, gesturing for you to go ahead.
You walk past him, making your way toward the kitchen. You don’t fail to notice how he tags along beside you. 
“Ugh, Kidd! What? What do you want from me?”
“Tell me why you’re upset.”
“You know why I’m upset, moron.”
“Tsk, tsk, that’s no way to talk to your Captain.”
You bite your lip, “I’m sure she’d talk to you exactly how you want. Stop following me.” You go to take another step, but he grabs your arm pushing you toward the wall of the hallway. He pressed his chest into your back, pinning you against the wall as he bent down bringing his lips to your ear and teasing you with a few kitten licks. 
He grabbed your wrists, holding them against your lower back with an uncharacteristically gentle grip. Like he was daring you to fight back. You relax into his grip, arching your back to rub your ass against his bulge. 
You hate how weak he makes you. 
A deep breath escapes Kidd, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your thighs are starting to get sticky.  A soft moan escapes your lips as he presses his hard cock into the curve of your ass. 
“Mhm,” Kidd teases, “Somethin’ else ya want to tell me, lassie? Go on, use your words.” 
“I don’t have anything to say to you, asshole,” you snap back, trying to suppress the urge to give him the attention he so desperately needs.
“But how often do you keep yourself busy with other women?”
You break. His grip slightly tightens, his confidence faltering for a split second. 
“Ohh,” he remarks, an infuriating smile settling onto his face, “You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m just bored.”
He moves your wrists into his left hand, his right wrapping around to the front of your hips and under your skirt. He runs his thumb along your slit, your panties dripping with arousal. 
“Doesn’t feel like you’re bored, love,” he says, pressing harder against you, “Please, darling, tell me what’s wrong. I already miss you.”
You scoff and roll your eyes, “Right. And you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that? I’ve already told you what’s wrong.”
“I do miss you,” he laughs, “And, no you haven’t. You’re too smart to be truly bothered by my little stunt earlier. Somethin’ else is bothering ya– and don’t say it’s your period I know that’s not true.”
You pouted, refusing to answer the question. 
He ran a thumb over your lips, bending slightly to be able to gently kiss you. You don’t fight back. 
He lets go of your wrists and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him in for another kiss.
He picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, he presses you into the wall, slipping his tongue past your lips.
This is hell, you think, Just tell him you’re done.
But, then again, you weren’t. That was the issue. 
Your chest was tight and your brain foggy as you pulled away from the kiss. 
Kidd’s chest heaved with heavy, deep breaths as he began the process of regaining his composure. He slowly lowered you down the wall until your feet touched the floor. He leaned against the wall, his metal arm resting above your head, caging you in. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and cupped your face with his right hand, bringing it up to his own. You stood on the tips of your toes and he bent lower to more easily pepper your face in kisses. 
“‘m sorry lassie,” he said, between kisses, “I’m an arse.”
A huge one, you thought. 
You kissed him back, his lips salty with the taste of sweat. 
“Forgive me? Please? I… You mean a lot to me. Don’t be upset, I can't take it.” 
A smile crept onto your face. You placed a hand on his chest, it felt like touching marble. He was so difficult to resist– but your mind flashed you the image of his arm around another woman and you steeled yourself. You pushed him back, slipping out from beneath his grasp walking out of the hallway back toward your own room. 
He followed after you like a dog on a leash.
“Y/n, bonnie lass, hear me out, baby” he pleaded; You walked just fast enough to stay out of his reach, “I am sorry, love.”
You kept walking, your poor Captain trailing behind you uttering pleas, “Y/n, slow down lass, let me explain. She doesn’t mean anything to me, I just wanted to make you jealous.”
You stopped, finally having arrived at your destination.
“Make me jealous?” you repeated, turning to look at him, an expression of disgust settling on your face, “By bringing her on to OUR ship, hm? That was your genius idea, Captain? How did that work out for you?”
He sheepishly looked down at the floor, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
“Why on Earth would you ever pull some bullshit like that with me? I’d have never done that to you.” 
This did get a rise out of him, “Oh, you’d never? So leaving me last night the way you did– with no explanation and a half-assed excuse is any better? You couldn’t even look at me, you refused to kiss me! Kiss me. It only makes sense you have another man on your mind.”
Your expression slightly relaxed, “Another man– that’s what you really think? That’s what this is all about?”
Kidd was silent, his stubbornness had gotten the better of him.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to offer him an explanation. 
“Last night,” you started, “I got scared–” “Scared? Of me?”
“Kidd!”
“Right, sorry, go on then.”
“I realized…” you paused, it was harder to say to his face than you expected, “I like you.”
Kidd’s countenance softened, “Well, lass, I’d hope you like me by now.”
“No, Kidd, I like you– I love–,” you bit your bottom lip, cutting yourself off. 
Your captain’s eyes widened, before a sly smile began to spread on his face. 
You ignored it, “I get that you don’t feel the same, I know this isn’t anything… serious, but–”
His arm shot out to wrap around you and pull you into him, you brought your own hands in front of yourself to push against his chest, maintaining the distance between the two of you. 
“C’mere, lassie,” he laughed, easily overpowering you and hugging you into him, “You’re a stubborn little thing, ya know?”
You huffed, tears pooling on your lower lash line, this was all so frustrating.
“Look at me,” he said, lifting your gaze with a finger under your chin, “I love you, Y/n.”
You looked up at him and the sight of your pink, pouting lips and watery eyes made him dizzy. 
He kissed you, squeezing your cheeks with his warm hand and squeezing your waist with the metal one. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips, reaching behind you to open the door to his bedroom. 
Kidd understood your request plainly, picking you up and walking to his bed with you. The door shut with a harsh bang, drawing you both out of your momentary reverie. 
Your captain gently placed you on the bed, pulling back to admire you.
“You’re the most beautiful woman on the ocean, you know?”
You smiled, blowing him a kiss. Kidd turned to lock the door and started undressing, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your anxieties had completely evaporated since his lips touched yours, you took a deep breath to process your confessions to each other. 
A smile made its way onto your features and your cheeks darkened. 
Kidd made his way back onto the bed, and pulled you into him, where you laid on top of him resting your chin on his chest. 
“I do love ya, lassie, I wasn’t joking,” he said.
“I know, Captain,” you said, visibly reassuring him. 
“Shall I help you get these off, sweetness?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shorts.
You nod but hold up a finger, you weren’t quite done reprimanding him.
“Captain,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Yes, lovely?”
“If you ever pull some shit like that again, I’ll kill you.”
His smile dropped for a split second before he started laughing, and rolled over to pin you against the mattress. 
He bent down to kiss and suck at your neck. 
“Eustass,” you said, voice flat, “I’m serious.”
“Mmm,” he left one more kiss before answering, “I know you are, trust me.
Now let me make it up to ya.”
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chukys-mouthguard · 5 months ago
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Could you do where the reader is a singer and dating Luke hughes and if you are a taylor swift fan you know how she said karma is the guy on the chiefs instead of on the screen you you do where Lukes family and friends are at the readers concert and karma is a song she wrote and she changes to karma is the guy on the deviles and the whole tent where his family and friends are goes wild and making him blush. If that makes since.
my muse
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1.5k words
genre: fluff
featuring: luke hughes x famous singer girlfriend
summary: your world tour makes a stop in New Jersey the same weekend as the hughes bowl, so you seize the opportunity to reveal your relationship with Luke to the world
note: i just made up lyrics versus using an actual artists lyrics, but that is really the only thing i changed regarding this request 🫶🏼🩵 i am not super thrilled with how this turned out, but i still wanted to post this because i thought the request/idea was super cute with luke
You weren’t sure how the universe smiled on you when your schedule magically aligned with the annual Hughes Bowl, but it meant that the Hughes could all attend your show together. And while your relationship with Luke wasn’t yet public, you knew there were some rumors going around that their presence certainly wouldn’t help to silence.
As you got the finishing touches done to your hair and makeup, you headed off to do some pre-show photo ops. Having invited a few local friends backstage, along with Luke and his family.
“Hey guys!”
Greeting the Hughes you hugged both Ellen and Jim before moving to Quinn and Jack. Saving Luke for last as you gave him a kiss before you invited them all to get a photo with you.
“Thank you so much for the tickets, you really didn’t have to do that honey. You know we would’ve gladly bought our seats to support you!”
Ellen wrapped you in another hug, going on to tell you how nervous Luke was to have them all here with him for your show.
“Oh stop, it’s the least I could do for you all. You’ve always been so supportive of me and my career, as well as me and Luke.”
Looking over Ellen’s shoulder you watched Luke and his brothers talking with some of your friends they’d be sharing their suite with for the night.
“Is he really nervous?”
Ellen nodded with a smile, taking your hands as she pulled you to the side to talk.
“He said he’s nervous because you two aren’t officially public, and he knows that all of us being here is probably going to fuel those rumors even more. So he just doesn’t want all of us being here to stir anything up.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m not even worried about that! I want you all here one hundred percent! Maybe I should talk to him? Calm him down a bit?”
With a chuckle you headed over to steal Luke away, taking his hands in yours as you found a seat across the room. A smile on his face as he hadn’t stopped staring at you since you’d walked in the room.
“How are you?”
Luke chuckled at the question, a bit shocked that you were asking him those words.
“Well, you’re the one about to go perform for thousands of people and you’re asking me? I’m pretty good, can’t complain.”
Rolling your eyes you laughed at him, his sarcasm always being something you appreciated no matter the situation.
“Are you nervous of people finding out about us?”
He immediately shook his head, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze as he could sense in your voice you were a bit discouraged at the idea of him being scared. But it was the furthest thing from the case. Luke wanted to scream from the rooftops that you were his, he’d always been so proud to have you as his girlfriend. But he knew that your world was so different from his, and the media could be brutal and unruly. So he wasn’t sure what they’d potentially do with the story once it broke.
“I don’t care who knows that you’re my girlfriend, let them all know. I just don’t want you to ever feel like we have to tell people our business, or feel forced to confirm anything. I think it would obviously make things easier. Like being able to come here tonight and support the most talented girl on the planet without being nervous about photos leaking online and rumors spreading.”
He smirked as his lips peppered your neck with kisses. Making sure to avoid your face so as to not mess up your makeup. He’d learned quickly that the makeup artists were not a fan of having to fix smudges from his kisses. His arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close to him, placing a quick peck on your lips before he rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering into your ear so no one around overheard.
“If you want to tell everyone, then do it. It’s not like they don’t already have an idea right?”
“Tonight?”
Pulling away you rested your hands on his cheeks as you looked at him, slightly shocked at his sudden boldness and want to go public.
“Why not? It would be the perfect time to do it. You’re in Jersey, I’m in the crowd. People are most likely going to figure it out so why not beat them to it?”
You raised an eyebrow at the idea, thinking to yourself how you might be able to work such an announcement into the show without explicitly calling it. Whispering to Luke your idea, you waited for his approval, which he gave in the form of a smile and a kiss.
“It’s going to be great, I love you.”
He wrapped you in one final hug before you had to bid farewell to everyone, the show set to start soon and you needed to go through your vocal warmups.
As you finished off yet another song it was time for the show to slow down, the next few songs being acoustics or ballads as one of the dancers brought you out your guitar.
Slipping it over your shoulder you tried to catch your breath as your heart was still racing from the previous number, the fans all screaming as you waved to a few in the front row.
“How’s everyone doing?”
You smiled as you looked out to scan the crowd, your eyes eventually falling on the sectioned off seating where Luke was sitting with his family and your friends. He gave you a reassuring smile as he knew you were about to sing the song that would contain the announcement you’d be nervous for all night.
“This next song is one off of my latest album. And while I know you all love it exactly how it is, I thought we might change up the words a little bit. It’s a special night here in New Jersey, there’s some special people in attendance. So I hope you don’t mind, but let’s see if anyone can catch it. This song is called, ‘Momma I think I love him’.”
You winked to the crowd before you heard the countdown begin to play in your in-ears. Strumming only the first few chords your fans instantly erupted over the song, all of them singing the words along with you, only making you even more nervous for the lyric change you’d barely had a chance to practice before you’d perform it live.
Looking out to Luke you caught him singing along with you, a smile on his face as he was in awe of you. No matter how many times he’d seen you perform live, he could never get over how talented you were. Loving that he was able to be here to cheer you on, just like you’d done for him so many times before.
Coming up on the ending of the song, you could feel your palms sweating, praying you didn’t drop your guitar pick or goof up the notes. Your heart was practically beating through your chest as you knew that once you sang the different lyrics, there was no turning back, and your relationship with Luke would be confirmed within minutes of the song's final chords.
The crowd watched in anticipation, knowing this was the moment of the lyric change. Their phones all pointed at you, unsure as to what you’d be saying but wanting to be sure to capture it on camera.
“He’s, six foot two with hazel eyes. But I promise you he ain’t like them other guys. He’s a, bit of a rebel. And he, plays for the Devils. Jersey 43, and he’s perfect for me. Oh momma, I think I love him.”
The roar throughout the arena made you blush as you shyly covered your face with the song coming to an end, hearing the screams over the reveal from those close enough to you. The word must have traveled fast as the crowd had begun chanting Luke’s name, your eyes immediately looking at him as you were nervous whether or not you’d done the right thing.
But Luke immediately washed those fears away, holding his hands up to you in a heart as you reciprocated. The camera men at the concert not letting the moment go unnoticed to anyone else as they quickly flashed the image of Luke up on the screen. He’d gotten a bit shy, but waved to the crowd before he forced Jack and Quinn to get on camera with him. The fans screamed louder and louder as each of the Hughes’ boys were shown.
“Well, surprise!”
You playfully spoke as you’d handed your guitar off to one of the stage attendants, fanning your face to try and calm your blush. The fans still obsessing over the news as you walked down the long runway towards the main stage to get ready for your next song.
“Hopefully the rest of the show will be just as exciting as seeing the Hughes’ brothers all in attendance, maybe if we are lucky I can get them to come on stage with me.”
You sarcastically spoke as you looked towards their section, immediately seeing them shaking their heads no as they waved their arms in disagreement. Rolling your eyes you laughed as they fans tried to encourage them.
“Trust me, you do not wanna see them dance. They are much better on skates!”
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