#that fucking 'special piece' conversation i fucking lost it

[munching-on-otome-isekais]

Normally I have a strong distaste for black-haired, socially awkward and overpowered MCs who achieve impossible feats.

But when said MCs are unreliable narrators? When they casually downplay or don't even think to mention some extremely important parts of their pasts, which start to seep through their narration and which makes you look at the story in slowly dawning horror? I eat that shit up.

[saeun]

food for thought, except it’s unwanted jujutsu kaisen : fem-reader.

have you ever wondered about a scenario so much that you must ask? well that’s exactly the last thing they’d wish to answer.

+ love ‘su: gojo, geto, itadori + ‘live, laugh, love’ hater final boss ( sukuna )

gojo satoru ﾉ refuses to answer.

“do you ever think about how it’d be if we never met?”

“ha— no. don’t even go there.”

satoru stops you there. he doesn’t wish to hear another word from you— especially if it extends your former question. he thinks about it— daily, in fact. it's a scenario that crosses his mind whenever he finds himself drunk on the temporary love he receives from you.

you’ve sung the lyric ‘i’ll love you until there’s no more left’ almost every week for him, silently begging that he gets the concept of genuine love through his head.

“why not? imagine if my friends didn’t make that bet where i either hit on you or pay for the night.” you reminisced, remembering the very night you lost the last touch of shame.

he hums, drumming his fingers on your thigh.

“bet or not, we’d still be fated to meet. next question!”

“anddd what makes you so confident?” you threw another question at him. this time, it's lighthearted.

“mind you, i’m the second coming of an angel. i predetermined this since three years ago.”

glances were exchanged, an expression of a grinning fool met the expression of a glaring responsible person who’s the said fool’s other romantic half.

you should've been familiar with satoru’s ways. it’s your fault for expecting a deep-dive conversation with satoru. not quite his cup of tea!

geto suguru ﾉ expects it and tries to escape.

suguru's home was no new, unexplored area to you. you knew his home's blueprint like the back of your hand. if needed, you'd walk through his home blindfolded and still end up in the room you want to be in.

this isn't a good thing to suguru. there are days where the feeling of confusion as to who he is piles up on him, leading him to isolate himself.. until he forgets there's a spare key of his isolation cube in your hold so now the plan goes awry.

that is exactly what’s happening. after he sent the text ‘k bye’ and silenced his notifications, he felt an impending doom. the reason was unknown by then but he should've guessed it was you.

you marched into his home, readying yourself with suguru-loneliness-begone techniques and, of course, the question that's been wandering your mind since you woke up from a dream.

“babe, what if—”

“fuck,” he curses under his breath, too exhausted to put a hand over your mouth.

“what if we were the last persons on earth? would you recreate humanity with me or kill yourself?”

there it is: your special ‘what if’ questions that know no bounds when it comes to absurdity.

“when would that ever happen? please, stop this,” he groans, pleading with his eyes for you to stop.

“that's the thing— you never know! so, what option is it?”

“i'd kill myself a long time ago if possible.”

“so it's the second one?”

“i'm... not cut out to be a good father.”

“i hate an indecisive bitch, my goodness,” it's your turn to complain, a little let down at his grey answers.

suguru's equally offended. you're the one who jumped him with such a question— who even thinks about that?!

“(y/n), baby, has it ever crossed your mind that your thinking skills aren't quite normal?”

“are you calling me stupid?!”

itadori yuuji ﾉ just as stupid.

it's mango season— yuuji's most anticipated season of the year. mangoes are to yuuji what your lipbalm is to you. a necessity, a survival item, a lifesaver, an important part of his lore, something he worships.

peeling mangoes and slicing them to equal pieces has never brought him such satisfaction before. it immediately brightens his mood. this must be how his grandfather felt whenever he took a walk around the neighbourhood.

now you appear, yuuji's second most anticipated person. you to yuuji is what mangoes are to him. this causes yuuji's current happiness level to reach its peak today. such a great level of happiness can defeat any evil being with just being in its area.

“say, yuu,” you begin, stabbing one of the mangoe slices with a fork.

he nods, signalling that he's listening but still focused on his current activity. a true mulit-tasker.

“if one of your limbs happen to detach from your body, do you feel the pain or does the pain go with it?”

he stops, allowing the question to sink in. he's never been asked such a.. divine question before. what's the answer? does the pain go with the limb or does it stay?

“oh... i gotta ask nobara this, she'd know,” he suggests, placing the knife down. a question that'll haunt him if he doesn't act quick for the answer.

“yes, yes!!” you encourage his actions, mindlessly enjoying the mango slices. mangoes are truly a blessing.

sukuna ryomen ﾉ no. nice try, though! A+ for effort.

“ryo, have you ever wondered if—”

“no, i never.”

“you didn't even let—”

“i haven't learnt since two-thousand years ago.”

“you old fuck, let me finish—”

“it's truly been a while since i've wondered.”

“DAMN, BITCH!”

you threw the remote at him, ultimately fed up with him cutting you off before the peak of the sentence. it could've been the question of the year and he'd still dodge it.

sukuna invited himself over since he ran out of entertainment options and you're always there for him. unfortunately, you do not find him as entertainin. he's annoying, arrogant, and attractive so it cancels out the negatives about him.

of course, sukuna caught the remote. his athletic capabilities are its prime despite him being dormant for centuries. it'd be a white lie to say he's not interested in your question, however it is way more benefitting to push your buttons.

he throws the remote back onto your bed, drying his hands with your hand-towel before making his merry way to you.

“your bed's small.”

“well no shit. it's for ME.”

“you mad? you look mad.” his hand holds your chin, turning your head side-to-side to observe your expression.

you rolled your eyes, “i don't get mad that easily.”

“is this how people felt when i told them an obvious lie? i should repent.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Jinx: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis @oklahomapeach @queensland-lover93

Companion piece to:

Lipstick (NSFW) - It's love at first blow job for Dr Robby.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn't sleep when you're not around.

Bunny - Robby discovers you've been keeping secrets.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby's neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Poolside - When Robby's had a really shitty day he always ends up whereever you are.

The Betting Pool - Robby discovers that his collegues have been taking bets on his relationship.

Fifty Shades of Robby - Robby's collegues see the truth of his relationship when they find your Instagram.

Dumb Bitch - Robby exhibits his protective side when another man steps on his territory.

Stop Compressions, Start Compressions - Robby loses everything in the aftermath of Pittfest.

24 Hours - Robby refuses to leave your side in the aftermath of the shooting.

Saftey Rail - Abbot gets real with Robby when he finds him on the roof.

Baby, It's Gonna Be Alright - Robby wonders if he's fucked things up with you for good.

Exorcism (NSFW) - Robby and you finally find a way to be honest with one another.

Ready - Robby tells you he's ready to try again.

The Rose - You give Robby a special gift for your anniversary.

Heartbeat - Robby finds something to help him sleep.

The baby likes to play.

He likes to follow the sound of Robby’s voice as his lips ghost over your abdomen and kick when he hears that deep rumble. It’s the game the two of them have been locked in while you rest on the bed with your back against the headboard, reading Where The Crawdads Sing.

“I think he’s gone to sleep.” Robby murmurs, his thumb rubbing loving circles over the bump as he presses his ear to it.

“Well it is past his bedtime.” You say, your fingers combing lightly through Robby’s dark hair. He places a final kiss to your stomach before he pulls his Pittsburgh Penguins t-shirt back down over it. His palm comes to rest on the bump as he nuzzles in close, his lips brushing over your cheek.

“Do you wanna discuss what happened yet?”

He’s talking about your reaction to the list of baby names he’d written down. You’d scrunched up the post-it in your fist, said the word ‘nope’ and then peaced out to the bedroom. It had taken him an hour to realise that maybe space wasn’t actually what you needed so he’d broke the stalemate, climbed onto the bed with you, started a conversation with the baby, waiting for you to vocalise what’s going on in that head of yours.

“No.” You say, your gaze focused on your book although you haven’t turned a page in the last couple of minutes.

“Alright.” He says as he lies back down beside you, his palms tapping out a rhythm on his diaphragm as he stares up at the ceiling. His eyes close and you sigh as you set down the book on your lap.

“If we pick a name, it feels like we’re jinxing it.” You tell him your husband. “He becomes a full little person and I...” Robby tilts his head towards you as your knuckles turn white clenching the paperback in your hands. “I know it’s fucking dumb but I picked a name for the last one and six hours later…”

You lost her.

You lost Joanne…

That’s the name he’s found on a pink post-it attached to the lunchbox you’d made for him the morning of Pittfest. Jojo for short.

“Ok.” Robby says swallowing hard against the ache in his chest as he shifts into a sitting position beside you. His thumb traces along your jawline as he cradles your face between his hands, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “No names until after he’s born. We’ll look down at him, he will tell us who he is.”

“He will.” You say softly, your palm coming to rest on your stomach, smoothing over the space where that precious little life resides. “I just know he will.”

Love Robby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five

“So Steve, I know you said that you don’t think you need anyone...” Eddie sighs, “do you think that implies that I think that what he thinks is wrong?”

“I think it implies you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to glare at Dustin, it’s much easier to just pretend he hasn’t spoken, “okay, Steve-”

“Yeap, you’re really strong on establishing you know the guys name, which is like, a solid point in your favor.”

“I hate you,” Eddie says to the ceiling, neck at an odd angle where he’s flopped his head back over the arm of the couch, “so, Steve, I know you said you don’t need anyone, and you are totally right-”

“You’re a strong independent Omega who don’t need no Alpha!”

“So help me Henderson I will throw you out,” Eddie waits, but Dustin is finally silent on the matter, “Steve. I totally respect the fact that you are absolutely fine handling everything alone, and if you’re...happy with us, being friends, then I’m happy with that too. I did wonder, though, if you’d like to go on a date. With me. Maybe?” Eddie sighs, flopping his arms over his face, “I’m so bad at this. This is going to go so wrong and he’s going to hate me and never want to see me again and-”

“Eddie...has the Omega broken your brain? What the fuck is wrong with you man-”

“I don’t know! I don’t...I’ve literally never felt this way before, not about anyone. And Jamie, man, I know he’s not my pup, okay, Steve and I aren't dating, he’s literally my friends pup, that’s it but...I swear I would die for that kid, no question.”

“Okay...so just...ask him out? Steve I mean, not Jamie-”

Eddie huffs, “I don’t...I’m pretty sure I can’t. The more I think about it the more it feels...like Steve’s had a pretty bad run of Alphas, it sounds like, and I just don’t think he’d be interested. And he’s just literally had a pup, like Jamie is only just a month old, who am I to add to that, you know? Steve’s got enough to think about.”

“So...don’t ask him out?”

Eddie flops over onto his side, curling up so he can smush his face into the cushions, “but I really want to. I think it’s selfish though. I’m being selfish. I should just...be a good friend. Keep being a good friend.”

“And pine to death?”

“I mean. Seems like a reasonable way out.”

“Dude I do not know what to say to you,” the timer on the oven starts to buzz, “but at least you’re going to feed me, right?”

Eddie sighs, dragging himself out of the near suffocating safety of the gap in the couch cushions. He opens his message thread with Steve, scrolling back through the shared memes and screenshots and pictures. He reads little tidbits of conversation while he pulls out bowls and plates. The three dots appear, Eddie’s heart leaps a little because Steve is, right there. Right next door, with his phone in his hand, typing to Eddie.

‘I’d love some. I’ve made a banana cream pie if you want to take it back for your games night.’

Eddie sends back a shocked emoji, ‘I can’t take an entire pie.’

‘You won’t, my slice will be gone.’

Eddie smiles and slips his phone into his pocket. He slices two thick pieces of bread from the loaf he made this afternoon, wraps them, and then fills a bowl with casserole. Eddie’s pretty sure this bowl is Steve’s anyway; so many of their plates and bowls have been migrating back and forth it’s hard to tell any more, between Eddie’s dinners and Steve’s desserts.

He likes to bake something extra special for games nights though, he always says you can’t make just one cookie, or one slice of pie. He likes to make sweet things when he knows there will be people to give it to, otherwise, “I’ll just eat the whole thing Eddie!”

Eddie doesn’t see a problem with eating the whole thing, but he slips on his adventure crocs and heads out into the hall. Dustin doesn’t even tease too badly any more, even though Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s threatened to withhold Steve’s desserts.

Eddie knocks with the hand holding the bread, letting himself in when Steve calls, “it’s open!”

“Hey Steve, hey Jamie,” he sets Steve’s dinner on the little table, next to the juice and cutlery Steve’s already set out for himself.

“What do you have planned for them tonight?” Steve brings out a pie on a plate, a slice already gone, just like he said. It has real neat swirls of cream on top; it looks professional to Eddie, like you’d buy in a store.

“Destruction. Misery. Suffering. The usual.”

Steve hums, “uh hu. What color salad did you decide on in the end?”

Eddie sighs, “you say it Slaad. And I don’t know, what do you think?”

“I actually quite liked the idea for the dog shark thing, it was cute,” Steve hands over the pie, going on tip toes to kiss Eddie on the cheek as he hands it over.

“One home brew Bulette, coming right up,” Eddie replies absently. He’s pretty sure he’s gone at least a little pink, and Steve’s scent is fresh and bright in his nose for a moment, “I’d better…” Eddie gestures lamely with the pie, “you know.”

“Have fun!” Steve calls as Eddie lets himself out, “don’t go too hard on them!”

Eddie’s doing his best not too stare, he really is.

He has one foot on the stroller, rolling it gently back and forward. He has his guitar resting on the other knee, he strums, singing quietly to Jamie, “I'd rather be a forest than a street, yes, I would...if I could, I surely would.” Jamie burbles at him, waving his arms a little and making happy pup noises.

On the court, Steve laughs, and Eddie fails, and he looks. Steve’s wearing a tank top and those obscenely short shorts. Him and Chrissy are bouncing the ball at each other, catching it, doing a squat, a little jump, and bouncing it back. They’ve done all sorts of stuff like this, sweaty jock games. Steve’s short shorts riding up even further at the slightest provocation.

Jamie makes a noise, drawing Eddie’s attention back, “I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet, yes, I would...if I could, I surely would,” Eddie sings, soft and slow.

Steve and Chrissy come over eventually, Steve lifting the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his sweaty face, fully showing Eddie his tummy in all it’s glory. It’s thick, but firm, decorated by a handful of stretch marks and a perfect dusting of happy trail, “thanks for keeping an eye.”

“Huh?” Eddie asks, feeling kind of dumb but still managing to strum along on auto pilot.

Next to him, Chrissy snickers around her water bottle.

“Thank you, for watching Jamie,” Steve says to him more slowly, smirking, his sweaty hair flopping across his forehead.

“Right, right, sure, of course. Anytime. Pleasure. Really.”

Next to him, Chrissy huffs. Eddie pointedly ignores it.

The knocking is awful. It’s relentless. It’s obnoxious. It’s definitely Robin.

“I know you’re in there!”

Yeap. Yeap that’s definitely Robin. Eddie groans into the couch cushion before dragging himself up. She’s speaking before he has the door fully open, “this is getting old.”

“And what might that be-”

Robin puts on the most obnoxious voice Eddie thinks he’s ever heard, she clasps her hands together, holding them to her chest and she bats her lashes coquettishly at the ceiling, “oh Eddie’s cooking is just the best ever. Did you know he plays guitar! He says he’ll teach Jamie when he’s old enough! And he’s so smart, he’s got so many books in his apartment-”

“Okay.”

“Did you know he’s artistic! He paints his little dungeon game miniatures and they’re so good-”

“All right.”

“You should just see him with Jamie-”

“Robin.”

“And he’s such a good Alpha! He’s so good to his friends, he puts in so much work-”

“And we are done,” Eddie goes to shut the door. He can’t handle this. He knows Robin probably means well, in her own meddling way, but he just...can’t. This has to be Steve’s choice, right? Steve’s been pretty clear why he went it alone, and Robin is just...teasing him. It makes Eddie feel all warm and bubbly inside, knowing that Steve says these things about him, that Steve...likes him. But...Steve has a pup, and just because he says these things behind closed doors, it doesn’t mean Eddie has any right to know them.

No matter how it makes him feel.

“Wait wait wait...can’t you just, ask him out? End all of our suffering?”

Eddie sighs, “Steve has enough going on without me making it more complicated, okay? Steve can...he’s perfectly capable of telling me this himself.”

“No he isn’t. Because Steve would never ask you to take on another Alpha’s pup.”

“He’s not another Alpha’s pup, he’s Steve’s pup,” Eddie tells her reflexively.

“Uh hu,” she has her hands on her hips now, looking at him expectantly.

Eddie swallows thickly, and he can’t quite look at Robin, “what if...what if I loose him?”

“You won’t. You know you won’t.”

“But-”

“Me and Chrissy are taking Jamie for the night, did you know that? Giving Steve a night off, and we’re getting some practice in for when we’re ready to have our own, you know?”

“I...did not know that.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie stands for a second, not sure what to say, down the hall, Steve’s door opens.

“-and it’s in the changing bag.”

“I got it.”

“Don’t forget to heat the formula to-”

“Steve,” Chrissy sounds exasperated, “we’ve got it,” she has Jamie in his car seat.

“Plus,” Robin whispers to him conspiratorially, “he’s going to have a heat at some point, so we gotta be ready for that. You know, wouldn’t be fair to which ever Alpha ends up helping him out-”

“I know what you’re doing,” Eddie growls, watching Steve fuss over the pup.

“Is it working?”

“Go away.”

Robin shrugs, and Eddie watches as she goes to Chrissy, taking the bag so Chrissy is just left with the car seat, “it’s going to be fine, and you can call us any time.”

Eddie ends up watching Steve, as Steve watches his pup and his friends disappear at the end of the hall. His shoulder sag a little, and Eddie can't help but go to him.

“Hey.”

Steve sighs, “would it be weird if we followed them?”

“Maybe. I’ll drive though.”

Steve smiles up at him, and it looks kind of watery, “what if we break into their place and take him back?”

Eddie shrugs, “pretty sure we could just ask but, whatever makes you feel better, I guess.”

Steve sighs, “I sound crazy,” and a tear finally escapes, sliding down his cheek.

Eddie can’t help but scoop him up into a big hug, “I think you sound like the best dad in the world. I’ll get you one of those mugs. You know, for fathers day.”

Steve sighs, and sniffles, “thanks Eddie.”

“You want take out? I’ve primed you a miniature, if you still want to try your hand.”

“Can we watch a shit film too?”

“Oh fuck me I’d love to watch a shit film,” Eddie says vehemently into Steve’s hair.

Steve laughs against his chest.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to try painting his owlbear tonight; he picks forlornly at his duck rolls, “I’m sorry I’m not very good company.”

“It’s okay, I get it...I miss him too.”

“Oh, so you admit I’m being shit company?” Steve smiles for the first time this evening.

“Oh, yeah, the absolute worst.”

Steve phone pings and he practically dives for it, but then he melts, face going soft as he looks at the message, “Jamie’s asleep,” he shows Eddie the picture.

“Safe and sound,” Eddie reassures Steve for probably the fifteenth time this evening.

“I didn’t...I mean I knew I’d love my pup but...I didn’t know it would feel like this, you know? It feels crazy. And I mean...Jamie’s happy, and healthy, and that just makes absolutely everything feel...right? Does that make sense? Like...fulfilled.”

“I...yeah. I think I understand,” Eddie tells him quietly, because he feels like that about the both of them, as long as Steve, and by extension, Jamie, are both happy and healthy then...yeah. Yeah, the whole world feels like it’s an okay place to be.

“Eddie I-”

“Steve-”

They speak over each other, and end up laughing, leaning closer together on the couch. The remains of Steve’s half eaten dinner get moved to the safety of the coffee table. They’re close enough then that Eddie can see the dim light from the TV reflecting in Steve’s eyes.

“You go,” Eddie whispers to him.

Steve shakes his head, but takes Eddie’s hand in both of his, rubbing his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles, Steve whispers back, “you first.”

“I...I really like having you in my life Steve. And I don’t want to...to fuck that up, by expecting more from you.”

“I...yeah. Same.”

“Same?” It comes out as a surprised laugh.

Steve’s laughing too now, “what do you want me to say I mean...you pretty much covered it.”

“I have spent ages agonizing over this and and and- all I get is- yeah. Same. I guess. I suppose.”

Steve is properly laughing now, “come here, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he pulls Eddie close, and manages to stop laughing long enough to kiss his cheek, “okay,” Steve takes a deep breath, “I’ve just had a pup, and both me and that pup care about you so very much, and I did not want to mess it up by expecting you to take that on, okay?”

“You’re not a chore Steve, neither of you are a chore.”

“I mean he was sick on me the other day and that kind of felt-”

Eddie cuts him off with a kiss. It’s soft, a gentle press of lips that Steve...sighs into. Relaxes into. Lets Eddie take both their weight. Steve’s hands find their way into Eddie’s hair as Eddie gently wets Steve’s lip, and Steve lets him in.

It feels like coming home.

[charminglilly]

A Quiet Pouring

Ellie Williams x fem!reader

Summary: A cozy rainy day with Ellie filled with nostalgia and kisses

a/n: helllppp this is my first time actually posting one my of works to tumblr... also not proof read at all bc I'm lazy! 😋  Enjoy

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Now playing: Video games By Lana Del Ray

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You and Ellie were sitting cuddled up under a soft weighted blanket as a movie played in the background. You were more focused on watching the rain droplets hit the window and trickle down, racing each other till the bottom.

“Babe, this is the good part, focus.” Ellie said, grabbing your cheeks and gently turning your head to face the tv before returning to her position on your chest. You chuckled and ran a hand through her auburn tangles.

“Els, look, it's raining.” You said back, raising a hand to point at the window. Ellie spared the window a glance before sighing and turning to face you

“Yeah? So? What's the big deal, we weren’t planning on going out today” the freckled girl replied, sounding a little more irritated. You just sighed and slipped out from under her while she watched curiously on what the big deal was? You reached for the remote and paused the tv before turning back to Ellie.

“C’mon Elsss,” You said, pulling her up from the comfy couch.

“Hey! I was watching that!” Ellie protested and leaned away, trying to resist your pulling. Finally, you gave one last tug and pulled her up so that you were standing face to face with her. Quickly, before you lost your chance, you led Ellie to the front door and slipped on your shoes. Ellie quickly followed you and put on her beaten up converse that had definitely seen better days. You reached for the door knob and pulled it open before stepping out into the cold misty air. Ellie grabbed an umbrella and followed you.

“Babe, you forgot your umbrella and jacket.” She said handing you an umbrella but you continued walking to the street, ignoring her advances.

“Don’t need one, trust me babe,” Ellie just rolled her eyes and placed the umbrella on the floor and closed the front door, following close behind you. As the two of you walked towards the street the misty humid air twirled around your feet, creating an art piece beneath you two. 

You didn’t know why rainy days felt so special, so nostalgic. You grew up in the countryside where you would run outside with your siblings into the pouring rain. Joining the neighborhood kids, all of you would dance around like drunkies and jump in the puddles, drenching your shoes and pants in muddy water which your parents would only shake their heads in response to by the end of the day. But now that you are older and everyone has moved out of your little town in hopes of creating their own life and beginnings, you continue to hold the rainy day traditions close to your heart, that includes sharing them with Ellie.

Once you and Ellie reached the middle of the street, you came to a halt causing Ellie to crash into you, but you couldn’t be any more than unbothered. She watched you with judging eyes as you took in a deep breath of the cool air as it filled your lungs with a pinch of pain. With the seasons changing it would've been a good choice to wear a light jacket, but since both you and Ellie are irresponsible, you both seemed to have forgotten.

“Brrr, it’s fucking cold. How are you not freezing your ass off right now?” Ellie said as she wrapped her arms around herself, hoping the stubborn bumps on her pale arms would go away. You just chuckled in response and turned to face her. The rain seemed to pour harder as you looked into her piercing forest green eyes. She looked back at you with a glint in her eyes. You studied each freckle on her face, counting them one by one

1

2

3

4

5678…

Ah forget it

You studied the slope of her nose, the way it perfectly came to a bump at the end and the scar on her eyebrow. Who knows how she got it, with Ellie being Ellie, it could have been from just sitting down. You were the first to move, taking a small step forward. Ellie seemed to get the hint, taking her own step forward and releasing her arms, instead she placed them on the curve of your hips. You slowly traced your hands up Ellie's arms and came to a stop on her neck. She pulled you impossibly closer before she dipped her head into the crook of your neck. Her wet hair smelled of wet dog mixed with her perfume, a weird yet comforting smell that filled your nose. You wrapped your arms around her neck and she moved her hands to the small of your back.

“I love you,” the pale girl whispered into your ear, placing a few kissed below your earlobe. Chuckling, you replied,

“I love you more.” Ellie quickly began placing delicate kisses along your neck, ghosting it ever so slightly causing you to shiver and laugh harder. You felt Ellie’s lips curl into a smile as she reached your jawline. It was silent for a few moments, the only sounds being the rain hitting the concrete road and Ellie's lips hitting your neck. Despite the silence, there was no reason for words, the air felt filled enough with the meaning behind every touch you and Ellie left behind. She soon reached your lips and kissed the corner of your mouth before pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Hey, you missed.” You claimed, pouting your lips a little. Ellie only chuckled before leaning closer and placing a proper kiss to your lips. The kiss started out slow, just the feeling on Ellie's chapped lips on top of your more soft lips. Your bodies pressed impossibly closer as the kiss grew more passionate. There was nothing sexual behind it, only the love you two shared for each other. You parted your lips, as Ellie slipped her tongue into your mouth. Your two breaths become one and the feeling of Ellie’s heartbeat against your chest lit something inside you. For the next few minutes, the only sounds that were heard was the teeth clashing between you and Ellie, then obviously the pitter patter of the rain surrounding the two. Ellie was the first to pull away, you chased her lips for a second longer, not wanting the moment to pass just yet, but soon pulled your head away. Ellie tried to catch her breath before bursting into chuckles.

“What!?” You said, raising your voice to be heard over the rain.

“We look so stupid standing out in the pouring rain and making out!” Ellie replied back, laughing even more. Her laugh never failed to make you laugh along with her, no matter the situation.

“No it’s not stupid, it's romantic. Have you ever watched a rom-com?”

“Of course I have, but only because you make me watch them! Now come on, let's go inside before we catch a cold.” Ellie said, pulling away and intertwining her hands with yours, leading you back up the driveway and to the front door. All you could do was sigh and follow her lead.

“You're no fun” You said, like a child who was denied a sweet at the candy store. Ellie only chuckled in response. She didn’t want to admit it, but she loved this moment, she loved it when you did the most out of pocket things because it made you happy. And seeing you happy made Ellie feel full of love.

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

Idk how to end this so thats it, thanks for reading!!

[blank-potato]

Addicted to You

Pairing: Ivan (Vanya) Zakharov x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Explicit Content

Summary: You’re a little delusional, a little self-aware, but nevertheless, you’re hopelessly in love with him.

A/N: Written because I, too, would fall for Vanya. Plus, it's been a couple of weeks since I saw Anora, and he's still in my head. Completely unrelated but I was listening to Addicted 2 U from TNS when I started this

🎮🎮🎮

He mumbles under his breath in Russian as he focuses intently on his game, his fingers moving with practiced precision over the controller.

It amazes you how watching him play his game could be so captivating. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the slight smirk that appeared when he was winning, the effortless confidence in every move he made.

Now all you wanted was to be by his side, to stay close, to exist in his space like you belonged there.

Not to mention what he’d treat you to when he’d win his games.

“Can I get…prize from you?” He'd nod to the space between his thighs, and immediately, you would make yourself right at home. He'd play his next round, still focusing on his game as you'd sit there; your mouth full of his cock, petting your hair every once and a while.

You could tell he liked the validation. He liked having you on his arm, having you all over him, a silent trophy that fed his ego.

You guys had met at his New Year’s party. You weren’t even supposed to be there; a friend of his had dragged you along, but you were so glad they did. That night, Vanya had accidentally bumped into you, nearly knocking the drink out of your hand.

“So sorry, I didn’t…” he trailed off, eyes locking onto yours with an amused smirk. “I’m Ivan, you can call me Vanya.”

“Nice to meet you, Vanya.”

By the end of that night, you were in his bed. His hands exploring your body like it belonged to him as you bent over his dresser.

You should have left when you woke up in his bed in the morning, but he pulled you back in, and you knew you couldn’t leave. 

“We need to… wake up...” He says absent-mindedly as he scrolls through notifications.

“Give me a minute,” you murmured, kissing his neck as he focused on his phone. You noticed his smirk, whether it was for you or whatever it was on his phone, you didn’t know, but you didn’t care. It felt too good being in his arms. 

It wasn’t just the lifestyle, though that, in itself, could be addictive. It was wake up, spend money, do copious amounts of cocaine, and party. The whole world was his playground, a never-ending cycle of excess.

But it was also the quiet moments when he was lost in thought, telling you some funny story, drumming his fingers against a glass of whiskey or scrolling mindlessly through his phone, there was an air of peace. Like you were the only one that could see him like this, like you were special.

And when he’d be fucking you like an overexcited jackrabbit, fast and eager, you found it so endearing. The way he’d tense up and moan when his orgasm would sneak up on him, how he would hold onto your chest when you’d ride him, the marks he’d leave on your thighs when he’d eat you out. It was hard not to be addicted. 

He was childish, to say the least, always restless, always playing around with people like they were pieces on a board, teasing wait staff as if one word from him couldn’t cost them their job. Everything to him was a game, a source of fleeting amusement. And you were no different.

But you were just happy to be along for the ride, caught up in the rush of his world, where consequences barely seemed to exist. Sometimes you even felt like you could be something more… He did nothing to dissuade you of that—introducing you as his girlfriend to his friends, taking you around like you were the most precious thing in the world.

He made you feel special, like you belonged right there by his side, and maybe, just maybe, you did.

You'd sit in your favourite seat, his lap, watching him half-heartedly engage in conversation, his fingers idly tracing circles on your thigh, his other hand nursing a drink he barely sips.

And when you'd get mad at him for ignoring you all it took was him whispering, “Solnyshko…(Honey)” into your ear, his voice low and teasing, and you were melting against him as you milk his third orgasm of the day out of him.

So it’s safe to say that he doesn’t take kindly to you saying no to him. He pouts, sighs dramatically, and whines about it like a spoiled prince.

As you lie in bed with him, he proposes the idea that you two jet off to Vegas, and you say, “I can’t.”

The look on his face when you say no is downright tragic, like you just kicked his puppy. He pouts, shifting onto his side to face you, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your arm.

“I don’t think I can just drop everything and go to Vegas with you for a week.”

“But I want you to.”

“I have a job.”

“Then quit,” he says nonchalantly. You know he’s joking—or at least, you hope he is—but still, you’ve already taken too many days off, and your boss would definitely kill you if you disappeared for a full week to go gallivanting with him.

“I’ll pay,” he offers, leaning closer, voice all honeyed persuasion.

“That’s not the point.”

He exhales, exasperated. “I don’t want to go without you.”

His arms wrap around you, and you find yourself losing to your desires yet again.

“Ya by ne khotela, chtoby mne prishlos' iskat' kogo-to drugogo dlya razvlecheniy (I wouldn’t want to have to find someone else to have fun with).”

Your heart drops; his voice may have been sweet, but the implication made you feel cold. Would he really replace you so easily? Would he find someone else to whisk away if you said no?

“Take the week off. If the boss says no, quit. I’ll take care of you.”

“Vanya…”

“Yes?” he hums, pressing soft kisses all over your face, his lips trailing over your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

“Vanya!” you protest, giggling as his hands move, sneaky and relentless, to tickle your sides. You knew he was just trying to distract you, to make you forget your hesitations and make you say yes.

“Come with me.”

You sigh, already feeling your resolve slipping. And who are you kidding? He had you the moment he even brought the idea up; he knew it, too.

You were hopelessly, completely his.

“Guess we’re going to Vegas.”

Masterlist

[girlsworldillusion]

CLAIM - by Aemond Targaryen

+18 (seriously, no minors)

author's note: my first time writing for him, even though I've been in the fandom for a while now. (I hope this isn't the only one).

There you go, Aemond thinks with some bitterness.

Bright, innocent, pure. Tempting in annoying ways. Certainly a cute little thing to look at, though.

Unfortunately, he's not the only one who noticed this.

A warm, tingly ball curls in his stomach the more he watches you and your pathetic excuse for a partner during the waltz. Every delicate twirl you make around the grand ballroom sends shivers down his spine. The flushed dust high on your cheeks leaves his throat dry. The gentle smile you offer the Lord who smugly leads you through the dance makes his fist clench so tightly around the wine glass that Aemond is actually surprised he hasn't shattered the thing into a thousand pieces yet.

Aemond is not jealous, however. Aemond doesn't get jealous - being jealous is wanting something someone else has, and he has everything he needs, a lot of enviable things, to be honest. (That's what he tells himself, sipping some wine and sending icy daggers toward the man who insists on holding your waist tighter and tighter).

He's not jealous. He just doesn't like it when others covet what's his - or what should be his.

You, another Lady with a prestigious name. Theoretically there were many like you, it's true. But to Aemond, you always stood out. Unique, special. It is a great inconvenience that others also think this way.

Aemond was trying to be a gentleman here. He was purposely going slow so as not to scare you; innocent walks in the garden, subtle conversations about a book you both recently read, an unassuming invitation for afternoon tea (although he doesn't even like tea).

He was already exhausting the limits of his own patience and he still didn't get any real sign that you reciprocated his interest in you. You are kind and lovely, of course. But that's how you are with everyone around you. This, in itself, is no guarantee of absolutely anything for him.

Aemond was trying to be patient. Gods, he really was. But with each passing day he found himself more and more tormented by thoughts and fantasies about you. His mind is playing tricks on him, pushing the limits of his self-control to the point where he feels like he might snap like a stretched rubber band.

And it is on these nights, when everyone in the Red Keep is already asleep and he is absolutely certain that he is finally alone with his own demons - that he gives in.

He closes the only eye he has left to keep from seeing the shamefully needy descent of his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants, only for it to become a fleeting, innocuous thought a few seconds later, because there it is again; that all-encompassing, overwhelming feeling that makes him see stars every time.

He palms his straining erection wet with precum, imagining it's your tiny hand there - or your pretty mouth, your tight pussy. The mere thought of it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine and makes him part his lips in a husky sigh.

He thinks of you, over and over again; in hurried and repetitive steps, like someone lost in a maze.

Your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, your sweet voice begging for him...

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond-

Aemond writhes on the sheets, panting, shaking with it, his toes curled against the bed; his hips twitching with each wave of pleasure along his shaft trapped between his fingers. In the waves of euphoria, he throws his other arm over his eye, hides his sapphire and his personal decay like a secret, panting, getting close, so close, fuck, fuck...

It's sweet torture, after all. Spills out onto his own stomach and sheets instead of where he really wants to be.

But he can handle it. All to be a gentleman for you. All to endure the long, agonizing (and embarrassing) wait while you happily accept his invitations to teas and walks in the gardens and entertain him with your witty anecdotes about the latest book you read -

Although you never give him a concrete answer about your feelings for him.

He's trying to hold on.

But you need to pressure him, don't you?

He grits his teeth and narrows his gaze when the man waltzing with you leans down to say something close to your ear.

This isn't new to him, of course.

Aemond is used to having to fight to get what he wants. Nothing really comes easy for him. But there is something about the arduous trajectory of his personal achievements that no one is able to deny.

Once claimed, it's his forever.

That's it, enough of trying to be a gentleman - Aemond hums as he uses the rim of his wine glass to hide the wicked smile tugging at his lips.

.

"Oh, baby."

He is against you.

Pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass so you can feel how hard his cock is in his pants.

He's laughing in your ear.

Mocking.

"You like that, don't you, girl?" he asks, in a dark whisper after cornering you in one of the castle's corridors, blocking your walk to your chambers. He deposits words laced with malice and honey into his husky voice, whispered against the shell of your ear.

You shudder against him.

He's rubbing himself against you. His cock rubbing explicitly against the curve of your ass, while his fingers squeeze your throat, pulling the back of your head to his shoulder.

"You're mine," he says, his voice full of possessiveness. Like he was on the verge of losing it. He already lost.

You cry out softly, feeling him squeeze your throat again. Harder this time.

"Nobody touches you from now on. Got it?"

He's nuzzling into your hair. Lost in the tickle of your strands on his face, in your sweet smell in his nose.

You shake your head somehow even with his firm grip on your throat and he laughs against your hair.

A low, harsh laugh, a wicked sound that rumbles straight from his throat as he leans down to leave a single kiss on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours to give a light tug.

"Good girl."

.

You open your mouth to say something, anything - an apology, a well-rehearsed argument, words too soft and genuine to compete with the sound of Aemond's hips slamming violently between your thighs - but all all you can do is a low, breathless meow.

"You smell like him," Aemond huffs coldly, though it's more of a breathy grunt.

Maybe there is a certain amount of exaggeration in his words, you don't smell like him. Not really. But the simple memory of that man's hands on your waist and his face close to yours to whisper anything was awakening a dangerous euphoria in Aemond's veins.

He tries hard to at least pretend to be easy, to at least pretend to have some control over the situation. Struggling silently to remain composed, as if he wasn't finally fucking the woman he's wanted for a long time at a brutal pace, as if your scent and your tears weren't permanently staining his sheets right now, as if he wasn't squeaking his teeth to keep from spilling too soon at the mere thought of having permanent physical proof that you were here - right in the bed where he sleeps every night. Aemond feigns an indifference and coldness that are not real.

But he's trying.

He is under the intense watch of your drunken, half-closed gaze, and tries hard not to embarrass himself any more than he already has. He struggles to breathe through his nose, trying not to blink too often; carefree, not a hair out of place. And, in the midst of his personal battle for dignity, he finds some amusement in how you seem to be going insane beneath him; as if you seams were being torn apart with each breath hissed through your teeth.

"I-it was just a dance..."

“He was desperate,” Aemond cuts you off, squeezing you so that your words turn into nothing more than a pathetic groan at the end of the sentence. His fingers dig into your throat, anchoring him as his hips work furiously against yours. His hair is falling to your shoulders and breasts, raising goose bumps on your skin with each thrust of his body against yours. “And that smell is really offending me, girl.”

“I-I, I’m so sorry-” you stutter, hands gripping his wrist as he resists the urge to sink his teeth into the crook of your neck, exactly where everyone can see it tomorrow, “I told him I already had someone and -"

He barely hears your confession before he interrupts. Thick words spilling from his lips as the grip on your body doubles in intensity.

"He thought with that sticky smile that he could just have you? That he would be the one to take your purity? This is for me, he should know. You belong to me. Only for me - only for me." He shakes and sputters to the wild pleasure coursing through his veins, some of his self control slipping as he bows his head and bumps his forehead against your sweaty shoulder, panting heavily into your skin at the feeling of your tight walls gripping his cock like a lathe.

"Yeah - only for you", he distantly hears you moan above the roar in his ears, feels your little fingers tangle between the silver strands of his hair until you manage to give a sharp tug, right at the base of the back of his neck. He groans into your skin at the sensation.

The liquid heat building inside him is almost overflowing, so close that he can't stop his trembling hips from meeting yours with shallower thrusts. He's almost rubbing himself against you, over and over, frantically. “Aemond, p-please,” you murmur, cherry-colored tongue wetting your plump bottom lip. "I can't anymore, I can't - ngh, please-"

Aemond swallows the rest of your words with a punishing kiss, answering your broken plea by quickly grinding his hips, encouraging your orgasm to wash over you. He doesn't stop, not even when you go rigid, unable to kiss him back or do anything other than moan and cry into his mouth.

Aemond traces your lips with his tongue, nibbling them until they're soft, his own breathing becoming as frantic as the cock that's dragging without pause against your wet walls. When his orgasm washes over him, Aemond is already panting and moaning as if in pain as he rests his forehead against yours; an intense gaze observing yours, focused on every detail of your delicate features. Your hooded gaze, the wet trail of tears on your red cheeks and your uneven breathing. The purest adoration for him shining in your eyes like stars in the dark sky.

And he smiles then.

Because you are his now.

Duly claimed.

.

With a gentle touch on his elbow, Aemond returns to reality.

The apples of his cheeks are dyed a subtle (but noticeable) shade of red as his violet gaze scans the space in front of him, silently surprised to have been caught in the middle of his unholy reverie.

It's you.

A beautiful silk dress on soft skin. Hair tied in a slightly loose braid. So small compared to him. So beautiful. So...his.

"Prince Aemond, are you okay?"

He looks at you for a moment, debating between feigning disagreement to spare himself the humiliation of being caught or pushing you against the nearest wall.

In the end, he chooses to remain still, head raised proudly and face indifferent, although his violet gaze remains stubbornly tilted downwards, thirsty to maintain eye contact with you.

"Yes, I just got distracted," he says, voice deeper than he'd like it to sound.

You smile, sweet and soft and his heart quickens.

"That's great. Well, it's late and my feet are hurting after all the dancing." You close your eyes in an amused, relaxed expression, there's even a dimple forming in your cheek as the wide smile stretches your lips - and although the sight is enough to fill his chest with a bubbling sensation of pure warmth, a muscle Aemond's jaw jumps at the mere mention of your recent activities. "Have a good night, my Prince." You conclude when he offers no response to your comment, bowing with a respectful farewell before walking away.

He watches you leave the great hall with delicate steps, gentle smiles and nods directed at the people you meet on the way. The image of grace and innocence, without a doubt. At least until you turn your head towards him before walking out the hall doors.

The way your upper teeth sink into the plump flesh of your lower lip, your heavy eyelashes fluttering when you squint briefly, the flushed cheeks and swollen pupils aimed specifically at him...

It happens as quickly as it started. With a fluid movement you turn around again and walk through the hall doors, as if nothing had happened.

Aemond sighs; tired, irritated, burning with lust.

You keep playing with him.

The wine glass shakes and clinks loudly as he places it roughly on the table, but he doesn't care. He doesn't even care if anyone notices as he abruptly follows your steps, leaving the ballroom behind, with a hard gaze and dark features.

He would catch up to you.

And this time he'll make sure it's not just in a daydream-

He will claims you. Truly, indisputably.

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - It's Always Been You

Requested: yes

Prompt: 4) "You deserve better."

Warnings: nope, but long iwl

As the paddock seemed normal in it's all too familiar business and loudness, Y/n found solace in between hospitality lounges, with the stacks of Red Bull Racing tyres as her only form of company. The scent of rubber and gasoline enveloped her as she sought refuge from the shattered pieces of her heart. Tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving a trail of black from her eyeliner. As the sister of Max Verstappen, Y/n was no stranger to the high-speed world of Formula 1. Her heart, however, had taken an unexpected detour when she fell for Carlos Sainz, the charming driver who had once occupied a special place in her life. She remembers when she first met him, back when her twin and him were teammates. There was always casual flirting but then when Y/n finished up school in 2016, the pair began going on dates since her visits to the paddock became more and more common, then becoming basically constant once they made it official. They were the it couple and it felt like no other couple could compare. How they looked at eachother, how they spoke of one another, it seemed too good good be true...until the faithful night after the Singapore Grand Prix win when Carlos decided to call it quits.

The music pulsed through the air as Carlos downed one shot after another, his laughter filling the space. Y/n, his girlfriend, tried to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious, lost in the sea of people. "Carlos? I  wanna go dance." Y/n said. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead." Carlos replied, turning back to his group of instagram models who fanned over him, all desperate for the same thing; dick and clout. She rolled her eyes and walked away. "Fine, do whatever." As she walked away, the girls began giggling at her little outburst and Carlos didn't once stick up for Y/n. He was never like this before. He wasn't even like this at their romantic dinner the night before. But Y/n got on with it and did what she wanted to do; dance.

As she lost herself in the music, a man managed to gather the courage and make his way towards her. "Hey gorgeous." The stranger smiled, dancing along with Y/n. Since Carlos was surrounded by these stupid instagram models, the least Y/n could do was talk to a guy surely. "Hey." Their conversation continued until the topic of relationships came up, to which Y/n said that she had a boyfriend.

"I don't see him." The stranger grinned, leaning closer. "Well, you see that guy up there with the huge bottle of champagne?" The guy nodded. "That's my boyfriend. Carlos. He just won the Grand Prix a few hours ago." The stranger looked between the spaniard and Y/n. "He looks occupied." He said, referring to the hoard of girls surrounding him. "Honestly, who gives a fuck. The only reason he won it was because Red Bull had a fuck up." The man laughed at Y/n's drunken joke, but she couldn't help but feel bad for undermining her boyfriend's hard work.

As she swayed with her newfound dance partner, Carlos watched from afar, a twinge of jealousy gnawing at him. His strides became purposeful, marching towards the dancing couple. His vision blurry, he poked the stranger. He turned. "Hey, you're Y/n's boyfriend. How you doing man?" He asked, putting his hand out. Carlos slapped it away. "Yeah, whatever. Who are you?" Y/n arched a brow at the sudden rudeness of Carlos. "I've been talking to Y/n since you've been occupied." He joked. "Are you accusing me of cheating on my girlfriend?"

"Carlos, what the fuck?" Y/n asked. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, I know what you want and you're not going to get it." Carlos began shoving the guy. "Because when I go back to my hotel room, I'm going to have her on her knees and screaming my name, while you sit by yourself with your left hand doing all the work-"

Carlos was silenced by a hard thump to the face, that ended with both his lip and nose bleeding. Carlos stumbled back, holding his nose. "Carlos!" Y/n rushed to his side, concern etched across her face. "Carlos, we need to leave. This is getting out of hand." He pushed her away, his drunken gaze defiant. "I don't need you. I can handle myself." Ignoring her, he swung at the guy, completely missing him and falling to the floor. "Carlos, we're going." Y/n repeated, this time more stern. Carlos scoffed and despite the chaos, Y/n managed to guide Carlos outside and hailed a cab. The ride home was tense, filled with silence interrupted only by the distant sounds of the city nightlife.

As Y/n scanned their key card, Carlos lay against the wall beside the door, looking at Y/n with pure hatred in his eyes. "You're such a bitch sometimes." He muttered. Y/n turned to him. "Excuse me?" The door beeped and Carlos practically burst it down. "You heard me. You're You're a bitch sometimes." Y/n closed the door behind her and followed Carlos to the bed where he kicked off his shoes. "How am I a bitch? People were filming you and I don't think you want to answer to your PR people tomorrow morning." Y/n rolled her eyes and sat down on the sofa, taking her heels off promptly. "Okay? You're still a bitch. I could have taken him."  Y/n's frustration bubbled over as she demanded an explanation. "Carlos, what's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

Carlos glared at her, venom in his words. "I'm tired of this, Y/n. I don't want you in my life anymore." Stunned, Y/n pleaded. "Carlos, what are you tired of? We don't argue ever. Please, let's talk about it in the morning. You're drunk, and we can figure things out then." But Carlos was resolute. "No, I want you gone now. Pack your things and leave." Her eyes flickered as a few tears had fallen.

"You're so shit at this mate!" Max cackled, taking another sip of his beer whilst Pierre missed yet another goal on FIFA. The hotel room was filled with laughter as a few drivers had finished their clubbinv prematurely to instead play a few games of FIFA. The camaraderie and banter echoed through the room, creating a light atmosphere that temporarily eased the pressures of the racing world. Amid the gaming frenzy, a sudden knock on the door disrupted the jovial mood. "I'll get it." Charles said, walking towards the door. He expected some food from room service since they paid for it, but instead he was surprised to find Y/n Verstappen standing there, tears streaming down her face. "Hi, Charles." She sniffled.

"Y/n. Are you okay? What happened?" Charles asked, genuine concern etched on his face. Y/n, struggling to compose herself, managed to choke out. "Is Max here?"

Charles nodded, realizing something serious must have transpired. He stepped aside, allowing Y/n to enter the room. "Max? It's Y/n." The laughter hushed as the other drivers sensed the shift in the atmosphere. Max stood up. "Y/n? What's wrong?" A few words had been spoken in Dutch and it seemed that each word Y/n said, made Max angrier. The other drivers simply watched on, wanting to see what happened. "Where is he?" Max demanded in a demanding tone. "Max, please don't. That's the last thing I need tonight." Y/n pleaded. "No, I'm getting dad and we are sorting this." Max replied. "Max, no! He'll kill him!"

"And I will bury him. Don't worry about it." The drivers shared glances amongst one another as the siblings had run out of the room, closing the door behind them. "Are we going to see what happens or what?" Charles asks. "Seems like family stuff. I am leaving them to it." Pierre replied. "Seems logical." Lando added. Charles groaned as he left the room, following the sounds of loud shouting in both Dutch and English.

He looked down to see two figures banging on Carlos' door. "You don't treat my sister like this!" Max shouted as Y/n pulled from his arm, trying to deter him. "Max! Stop!" Charles shouted, trying to mediate, urging everyone to calm down. "If someone did this to your sister, you'd you'd the same!" Max shouted back at Charles. "Max! Not here! There are people trying to sleep." Charles said, reasoning with the dutchman. The commotion drew the attention of hotel staff and even a few curious guests. "Get out here, you fucking pussy!" Max had begun kicking the door now, not caring if it broke and deciding he'd worry about it if the door did break. The chaos continued until Max's father, joined the fray. The yelling and banging intensified, creating a scene that could be heard throughout the hotel.

Eventually, the rage subsided, as everyone agreed that Carlos must have passed out drunk and that it was a conversation best having in the morning. Max and Jos walked away as Charles stood by Y/n, tear-stained and emotionally drained. "Do you have a place to stay?" Charles asked. "I'm sure your brother wouldn't mind letting you stay." Y/n shook her head. "No. They're playing FIFA I don't want to have to kick them all out." Y/n replied. "Then I'll let you have my bed and Ill sleep on the floor." Charles offered. She smiled. "As nice as you're being right now, I don't need your pity. Im just going to fall asleep in my room and deal with this in the morning." She said. "Y/n, you can't possibly do that. I wouldn't wouldn't sleep in the same bed as him. You deserve better." Before Charles could even trg to convince her, she opened the door, re-entered her and Carlos' hotel room and closed it again without another word.

She had moved on from Carlos. In all honesty, she hadn't heard a lot from him. That was until she had come to her first Grand Prix single in 8 years. It felt weird not having someone to hold hands with, but she got on with it, showing her poker face and pretending not to care about her recent breakup. As she walked, she noticed an all too familiar spaniard, holding a gorgeous woman in his arms. It was a model, a model Y/n had seen on the catwalk of the Ferrari fashion event. That's where they must have met...back when Carlos was still in a relationship with Y/n. And that's how she found herself hiding like a kid scared of the dark, in between the Red Bull and Ferrari hospitality where no one could find her.

"Are you okay?" Y/n jumped as she wiped her eyes. "I- yeah. I'm fine. Who are-" She paused as she looked up to see Charles walking towards her. "What are you doing here?" Charles asked. "Inspecting the tyres, you?" Y/n replied quickly, drying her eyes. "Talking with the tyre inspector." Charles replied, sitting down next to her. Y/n looked up, her eyes swollen but grateful for the company. "Why are you crying?" Charles asked. "It's just-" Yhe tears had started again. "Carlos' new girlfriend is so much prettier, and she's so much skinnier and her hair is different, her eyes are different, we are just nothing alike and Carlos is just so happy with her." Y/n sobbed. Charles wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to him as her tears stained his red shirt. "He's moved on and I'm sat, befriending stacks of tyres."

"Well that's not true. I'm not a stack of tyres, am I?" Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke Charles had made. "No, no you're not." She replied. "You seem to be much nicer to talk to than a set of tyres, to be fair." Unbeknownst to her, Charles had been silently witnessing the intricate dance of emotions unfolding in the paddock. His infatuation with Y/n had started years ago, at one of Max's early kart races.

"Charles, you cut me off there! You could've caused a crash," Max argued, frustration evident in his voice. Charles, eager to impress Y/n, tried to maintain composure. "Max, I had the racing line! You should've anticipated my move." He chuckled, looking over to Y/n subtly to see her reaction. "Anticipated? You came out of nowhere!" Max shot back. As Charles vehemently defended his position, Y/n couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She expected a spirited rivalry, but Charles's insistence on being right grated on her nerves.

"Charles, back down. You know I'm right." Max urged, trying to defuse the tension. Yet, Charles, fueled by both competitiveness and a desire to impress, doubled down. "Max, I won't back down when I'm right." The harder Charles pushed, the more Y/n saw a side of him she didn't like. She began to see why Max always yelled about how much of a diclhead Charles was and she fully agreed now. "Charles, seriously, I will be to the stewards about it." Max insisted, the frustration evident in his tone. But Charles, in his pursuit of proving himself, didn't heed the advice. As the argument escalated, Y/n couldn't help but feel a growing distaste for Charles.

"You know what, Charles? Forget it. We're done talking," Max declared, grabbing his helmet and walking away with Y/n behind him. "Hij is een klootzak." Y/n muttered. "Ah, dus nu zie je die kant van hem?"

"Why are you even here? Don't you hate me?" Y/n asked, too tired to move her head from his shoulder. Charles sighed. "I never hated you, Y/n. You started hating me so I pretended to hate you back." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "But you always seemed so distant, so cold." Charles cast his gaze downward, confessing, "I didn't want Max to think I was interfering. I liked you from when I was in karting, but you started dating Carlos and I just gave up."

"I wish I had known, Charles," Y/n admitted, wiping away tears. "I could've used a friend." Charles offered a reassuring smile. "Well, you have one now. And if you'll let me, maybe more than just a friend." She sighed. "As much as I would love to, I just don't think I'm ready to have a boyfriend, let alone date my ex's teammate." Y/n replied. "That's fine. He's out of a Ferrari seat for next year anyway." Y/n smiled. "Listen, I don't care how long it takes. I've waited like what, 15 years already? I may as well hold on for another while."

[sp00kymulderr]

After

Dave York x Carol York x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. details of mff threesome. angst. happy couple. one line of daddy kink and mommy kink.

Inspired by one of my favourite poems 'after the threesome, they both take you home' by Sue Hyon Bae.

Words: 739

You're sitting in the back seat of their family car, listening to the lilt and purr of their conversation. There's an abandoned teddy bear on the floor by your feet, fuzzy and warm but not in anyones arms.

You think you know how it feels.

You hold on tight to your tiny handbag, holding nothing in it but wine-stain lipstick and a few crumpled pieces of paper - phone numbers you'd pick from like from a candy jar when everything started to feel numb again.

They chatter endlessly, happily, her mentioning some mother at the school gates she doesn't like, him humming deep in agreement.

Supportive husband to a loving wife.

And the girl they just ruined sat in the back quietly, under their care.

Offices are lit up like christmas trees, and you have to wonder why. Midnight is a memory now, driving through the city, no one here to see them but you and the other lonely souls searching for something they'll never find. Dave and Carol certainly don't notice them.

It had only been an hour ago that he was pulling out of you, that she was kissing soothing promises against your too-warm skin, marvelling at the way his seed leaked from you. She'd given you praise, encouragement, love in a form you craved so much, while he gave it to you in the way you desperately ached for.

Now, she looks back at you and says something. Something silly and trivial, and why does it even matter? You blood was rushing through your veins an hour ago, chanting 'Dave, Carol...fuck...Daddy, Mommy...please' over and over while they turned you into the person you always tried to be. Someone elses thing. For a few hours. Something warm and wanted and special.

"Do you like living in the city?" She repeats, a gentle tap to your knee because you didn't answer the first time.

"Yeah...yeah...I guess"

Their suburban home was like a wonderland, something untouchable, intangible. Covered in sugary sweetness that hung over every part of their perfect life. She had kissed you first, in the kitchen, after they'd invited you home from the bar. Her lips had tasted like cherries.

He was a deeper shade, a darker taste. Something burning in those eyes, not just the desire for things he didn't have to voice but something secret too, darker still. She'd kissed you in the kitchen, but he'd bent you over the counter. Told you to be good. To be so very good for them.

You had been.

So very, very good.

It's nearing 3am by the time they drop you off, home and safe and they loved getting to meet you. She kisses you first, again, on the steps to the door of your rundown little apartment where your roommate is surely still up waiting for all the dirty details. Her lips don't taste quite so cherry fresh now, more like you, covered in you. Suits her better, you flirt and flutter, prolong those last moments as long as you can.

His lips meet yours, and he's holding her hand even as he does it. Gives you a pat on the ass and tells you maybe they'll meet you in that bar again, do it all over again. You'd like that, wouldn't you pretty girl?

You know you'll never see them again.

You never do.

But this time, you wish. Which is more than you can say for the others.

You unlock your door as they stand by their car, making sure you go inside and don't somehow get lost between the front door and the inside of your home. You feel like you could get lost, chest burning with a warmth you don't really expect to feel as you watch them kiss and smile and get ready to go home. They'll sleep the few hours til morning, get ready for their days like nothing happened. The only reminder of you will be the scent of your perfume still on their pillows, and what they'd made you gush onto the sheets.

The other thing too. Stupid of you but you left it there; Your phone number is crumpled on some paper on the kitchen counter. A sweet offering for them in case they ever want to try you again.

They won't. They won't.

For now anyway you let the warmth of them linger inside.

Wave them off, and find yourself alone again.

[swordboybestboy]

So we all agree that Mihawk is super weird, right? Like obviously he's goth (and every alt person I've ever met is at least a little weird its part of their charm) and he lives alone on war-ravaged goth island full of murder monkeys and took over the castle there to live out his life as a vampire cosplayer

But also he has a boat that's shaped like a coffin and sails the fucking SEAS alone in it and I swear this man is alive by sheer force of drama alone like there's some god in the one piece world that's watching him and going "Yeah can't let that boat capsize I'm living for his dedication to the aesthetic"

And who made that fucking boat anyway it's mast is shaped like Yoru how much did Mihawk pay to get someone to build his fucking death boat like did he go to water seven and commission this imagine that conversation "I want a boat big enough just for me, it needs to he shaped like a coffin and have a coffin shaped cabin just big enough for me to sleep in cause I wanna feel like I'm rising from the dead when I wake up also please make the mast look like my sword is stabbing into the boat, black fabric for the sails and don't forget the candle holders at the front, they're very important"

Speaking of which who makes those candles is he making his own special candles with boric acid or copper(II) infused wicks so the flame burns green or is there some specialty goth candle shop who gets a bunch of business from him I could see him being like my orgo professor and adding salts to fires because they burn pretty colors also he in a modern au he would probably throw wrappers into fires to see what happens and then keeps Dubble bubble sour fruit gum around so he can throw the wrappers in fire and watch them burn pretty colors

But this entire thought was started because I was thinking about how I like the idea of Shanks and Shamrock fighting over Mihawk and that I like the idea that Shamrock just isn't weird enough for Mihawk

And it made me think of how Mihawk's entire social circle is made of weirdos

Crocodile - this man apparently lives to make criminal organizations he knows what he wants in life and that is to be a mob boss he lost his hand and replaced it with a very large ornate hook and that shit has got to be heavy but it is intimidating and probably more useful than it would immediately seem he also has a collection of eccentric weirdos (let's not even get into the subject of his gender or status as luffy's potential mother)

Buggy - clown may be the most normal of them all actually

Perona - another goth carries around what I can only assume is either the shrunken body of the zombie Kumashi or a plush replica enjoys using her hollows to make people momentarily horribly depressed cause she's mean like that has a very unique sense of what is and is not "cute" and judges harshly based on it (though I have to agree that tiny plush kumashi IS cute in a creepy sorta way)

Zoro - has sworn to take his head but also begged to train under him like it's weird Mihawk agreed to that but it's also weird that Zoro asked (outside of the context of needing to be able to protect his friends) is a dork who thought it'd be a good idea to fight with a sword in his mouth (It's a miracle he was right) and decided to pose when he thought he was gonna die as a wax statue cause obviously that's the important part

Okay. The buzz in my brain has stopped producing actual thoughts now. Mihawk is weird. I love him for it. His friends are weird. His husband is weird. If my brain ever allows it I'm trying to write an entire fic that's basically "Mihawk is actively trying to be the weirdest person anyone he meets has ever met" because it's my favorite Mihawk thing.

[erenthology]

eren spraying his cologne on your coat before you leave for work cus he's possessive like that

whoever sent this, you’re my soulmate. I added a small drabble btw <3 also, rando dave is back

Possessive!Eren who doesn’t laugh when you yell him the “funny” story about how Dave spilled coffee all over himself during the todays meeting..

Possessive!Eren who tries to compete by telling you all the funny jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and acting like a clown for you to laugh

Possessive!Eren who wants to keep all your smiles to himself, who hyper fixates on your hobbies to be able to send you memes and anything you ask for. You should be able to rely on him for anything.

Possessive!Eren who shows up at your work to bring you lunch, but it’s actually to show everyone that you’re taken.

Possessive!Eren who gets mad when you tell him about your co worker who’s broke up with her boyfriend, casually conversing that breakup rates have increased significantly and that couples usually end it within the first 5 years. The very idea makes his eyes flash red for just a second. “Not ours, you can count on that.”

Possessive!Eren who gets worried when you’re late from work. (Mind you it can be anything from an hours to 15 minutes) and starts freaking out. After receiving a text that you’re struck in traffic, he hangs up the call to your office and patently waits for you to arrive home.

Possessive!Eren who’s eyes flash murder when you come home crying after work. He coddles you for the rest of the night and tries to convince you to quit.

Possessive!Eren who has a special folder made for times you’re not at home. He follows the routine of opening your drawer and picking out one of the thin materials you like to call underwear

Possessive!Eren who randomly sends you texts in the middle of the day, “hurry home so I can eat your pussy, I’m hungry”

Possessive!Eren who gets worried when he’s not around you because as long as he’s there, people would know you’re his. He makes sure of it.

Possessive!Eren who always asks you to take time off for a vacation. you sigh, “what would we even do?” He grabs you by your chin, “bike rides, I’ll take you to the beach and feed you, movie nights, I’ll eat you out, fuck you silly, you know, that type of stuff.”

Possessive!Eren is the most demanding man you have ever met. He barks orders like a drill sergeant but never at you, never. His only demand is that you stay close to him so he can keep his eyes on you.

Drabble<3

“Eren, are you listening to me?” No, he wasn’t. You’re wearing an exceptionally pretty outfit today, and he’s overcome with the irrational urge to lock you in the bedroom and keep you for himself only. He swallows and responds, “yh, what’s up?”

You roll your eyes, “I asked if this looks good?” you give him a twirl to showcase your outfit. “I’ve got a meeting with dave first thing and I want to make a good impression. you know how judgeful they can be” you sigh.

At this, his ears perk up, dave? “Who the fuck is dave?” he puts his coffee mug down and shifts his entire attention to you.

Deadpanning, you explain to Eren. “my coworker dave…the one presenting the project we’ve been working on.”

Eren doesn’t pay much attention to what you’re saying. He only remembers one part and makes a beeline for it. “What was that about impressing him?”

“well, obviously I need to make good impressions in the office.”

He’s been staring at you for a while now without saying anything. He looks lost in his thoughts today, you think.

It was hard enough with the outfit itself, he thinks. And now you’re talking about this ugly dave dude? Eren takes his time to calm himself and avoid a fight. “You should wear a jacket with that”, he suggested and goes to get his jacket.

The pieces connect in your mind, “Eren, are you acting jealous again?” you yell for him to hear as he rushes to the hall. He comes back with your fall coat in his hand.

“Hey, I’m not the jealous type.(🙄) But what’s mine is mine.” he says and opens the coat for you to put your arms in. You’re immediately surrounded by the fresh scent of his spicy cologne. His significant smell. The aromatic smell fills your nostrils and overwhelms your senses.

You turn to face him and gets granted with with a wink accompanied by sly smile. “Yh, much better.” he says, more to himself than you. You’ve never felt so protected before you met Eren, even if it isn’t always rational, his primal instincts to keep you to himself makes you feel special.

“Let me know if anyone gives you trouble, alright?” You nod your head, standing somewhat dumbfounded. His heart aches at how adorable you look, increasing his illogical demand to ask you to stay and home and quit your job. He wants to provide for you and keep you all for himself, he’s selfish like that. Instead, he grabs grabs shoulders and begins walking you out the door with an arm around you. He always said you looked extra good around his arm.

“Give me a kiss” he requests, craving your attention like the man-child he is. So you pucker your lips and and give him a chaste kiss. As you pull away, he pulls you back with one hand on your waist and the other cradling through your hair, kissing the hell out of you.

You’re left breathless as he draws back, then goes in for yet another peck before taking your hand and walking you to your car. He’s previously insisted and borderline forced to drive you, but is now comprising, which is rare for Eren.

As you drive to work, surrounded by the smell of your boyfriends cologne, he head back to the kitchen where his phone is and starts stalking the shit out of your companies instagram for the “first”time

He just wants to be aware, nothing wrong with it, he thinks as he then opens a certain album your pictures and videos he’d rather die than let anyone beside the two of you see, it’s his holy shrine.

“Fuck..” he breathes and rubs one out to the sounds of your moans with his face buried in your pillow. He can’t wait for you to get home again.

[callmelilone]

Craving you ~ Azriel x Y/N

~ You and Azriel were recently discover the mating bond between you two and let's just say you both end up in the house of wind locked up away from everyone else! (+18)

It's been a chaos since this morning in the town house, everybody from the inner circle came to congratulate you and Azriel for your newly bond.

Everybody wanted to help you design your marriage while all you wanted all day was to stay alone with your mate.

Fayre and Mor was arguing about the decorations and your gown while on the other side Amren and Nesta was drinking one of the good bottle of wines Rhysand had for a special occasion.

You were currently sitting at your mate's lap and watching your family all around you happy with you two, you all deserved a happy moment after the war with Hybern.

Elain came from the kitchen holding a freshly baked cake and left it on the table in front of you.

"It smells delicious." You said and lean forward to smell the cake while everyone else run to take a piece.

When you lean back up again Azriel left a kiss at the crook of your neck.

You smell delicious bunny. Azriel said in his husky voice in your head through the bond you two share. He kept leaving wet kisses at the base of your neck and his grip on your hip tightens.

You could feel his hardness poking your butt and by the minute he only grew harder and larger. Your breath was getting heavier and the heat between your legs was getting worse.

Fuck, how much you wanted everybody to leave and stay with your mate alone, but you didn't want to ruin everybody's gathering, they seemed like they were having fun, something you all didn't get often.

You felt Azriel grinding you in his hard cock, you looked around to see if anyone noticed this sudden movement, but everyone else was focused on themselves.

Az can't you wait until they leave? I passed to him trough our bond and turned to him.

A sly smirk on his face and his gaze darkened. You felt one of his shadows going under your dress and up your thighs, it was cold and soft, it stays there for a moment caressing your thighs.

"So Y/N how do you want your wedding dress to look like?" Feyre asked from the couch he was sitting with Rhys having his hand wrapped around her.

"I have some thoughts about it, I want it to be purple, strapless with a veil on top of the main skirt and be puffy, also... I huuh." I lost my words as I felt the shadows under my dress climbing higher up my thighs and closer to the heat between my legs.

I looked at Feyre, she had a concerned look at her face.

"Is everything okay love you seem a little red?" Feyre asked you.

"Yes...yes i just felt a little dizzy maybe I drunk a little too much." I say trying to excuse my actions on the wine while trying to keep the other actions that was going on under my dress hidden from anyone else.

Feyre nodded her head and returned the conversation to Mor and the others.

Azriel's shadows now where circling your clit over your underwear and the tension was too much to handle, you were feeling close to your climax, another shadow made its way through your underwear and pushed it in your entrance. The chill sensation combined with the heat I felt made me drip and wanted to feel Azriel inside me now.

Az I need you now. I say in our bond, I see his smirk grow wider as he left another kiss on my neck, his shadows stop all the perverted actions beneath my dress.

I thought you wanted to stay sweetheart. He teased through our bond.

Fuck Az, I need you to fuck me. I say desperately.

With one last kiss in my forehead Azriel stood up and put his hand on my waist.

"I'm sorry guys I think we have to leave Y/N is a little bit drunk." Azriel said with a smile and kissed me on my forehead.

"Ohh you poor little thing, you can go rest we can talk about more details tomorrow." Mor said to me and hugged me.

"Would you like me to winnow you to the house of wind tonight, you can have a little privacy and rest better up there." Rhysand offer.

"If it's not trouble." Az talked for you.

You hear Cassian laughing next to Nesta and when you and Azriel looked at him, he wink and gave you both a smirk before Rhysand winnow you to the house up the mountain.

You were wrapped in shadows, Azriel was holding you close, when the shadows disappear you were in the dinner room in the house of the wind.

Azriel didn't waste a minute before he pressed his lips on yours, kissing you with passion and a hunger, he put his hand on your neck and a moan came out of your mouth, he pushed his tongue in your mouth and the kiss became deeper.

He pushed you on the table and lay you there, he started kissing and biting your neck leaving love marks all the way to your cleavage. He pulled down your dress exposing your breasts and already hard nipples.

He grabbed one with his mouth licking it and teasing it while he massage your other breast with his hand.

You felt his erection on your inner thigh, it made you wanting him more if that is possible.

He returned to your mouth attacking it with wet kisses while he reached for the hem of your dress pulling it up.

He pressed to finger on your clit over your drenched underwear.

"You're so wet for me, sweetheart." He whispered in my ear.

You felt your face heat up from his words, he wasted no time as he pushed your underwear to the side and pushed two fingers inside you, soft moans were leaving your mouth while he was pushing his fingers in and out of you.

"That's it bunny come all over my fingers." He started circling your clit with his thump and you felt your climax building up. He kept licking your nipple while working you down there and with one last pump you arched you back and you felt the ecstasy in your body.

After a moment he pulled his fingers out of you and licked your juices.

"You taste so good love, I could taste you all day and still be hungry for more." He said and leaned over you to kiss you, you were feeling your high in his tongue.

You got up and flipped him so he was standing at the edge of the table this time.

You kissed him and cupped over his clothed erection, he dropped his head back as he leaned in your touch trying to fins dome release.

"Fuck love, you're so hard for me already." You teased him a little as you started unbuttoning his pants and dropped them to the floor.

His big cock springs out thick and very hard already leaking precum because of you, because he wanted you the whole day, now he can't wait to be burried inside of you.

You squeezed his cock and you hear a deep moan coming from his throat.

You drop to your knees and spit on his cock tip, your eyes never leaving his gaze that is now dark from lust. You started by licking his balls, and then his shaft before you put him whole to your mouth.

He grips your your hair with his fist as you suck him hard, your hands on his thick as stone thighs for leverage.

"Shit, this mouth gonna make me cum like I'm a fucking teenager learning about sex" He said with his eyes closed as he started pushing his cock deeper in your throat. The lewd sounds you were making only making him harder and your breasts bouncing with each thrust making him want to cum at the moment.

He pushed his cock all the way to the back of your throat and stayed there until tears starting to form in your eyes, you were feeling gagging and wanted to take air but at the same time you wanted him even more, you were already turned on the whole day and now you two are alone, you wanted to feast on him as much as he wanted to feast on you, ravage each other until you both can't take anymore.

He pulled out of your mouth with a popping sound and the saliva connecting with your mouth and his cock dropped to your breasts.

His gaze went feral like that of a wild animal. He pulled you on your feet again and his hand went in your hair as he pulled you close to him again for a kiss, his other hand exploring your body.

"This." He said and showed your dress. "This is in my way." He continue and with one quick motion he tear the dress, leaving it to fall on the ground.

He quickly took of his remaining clothes too leaving you both naked, he grabbed you by the ass and lift you up, you quickly wrapped your legs around his waist, his large wings stood glorious behind him and as you look at him he looked like a god, a god obsessed with you, that you were his and only his.

His shadows covered you both as he teleported you, he couldn't last for long as he teleported you to an empty hall and pressed you against the wall.

The cement chill in your back giving you goosebumps you wrapped your hand around his neck and kiss he desperately.

"Fuck love, I can't wait any longer." He said and positioned his cock on your wet slid.

Slowly he entered you, he was so big, every time you were having sex you felt like he was stretching you out.

You both moan as he fully enters you. You look down to where you both were connected, as he slowly pushing in and out of you to adjust to his size, you knew he would fuck you senseless later and that's all you wanted but now he is leaving soft pecks on your lips forehead and cheeks before he rest his head on the crook of my neck.

He teased me with pulling out leaving only his tip inside of me and not going in fully, earning soft moans from me and whimpers.

"Az just fuck me already." I said from the overstimulation.

"What a desperate little bunny I have." He said and fully pushed himself into my pussy, i felt him stretching my walls more with each thrust, he was going in and out with feral rhythm.

"Fuck Az yes right there." He was hitting a spot that made me seeing stars.

You grabbed his hair and pulled it with one of your hands while the other was scratching his back definitely leaving marks there.

"Fuck, you're so tight love, you're wrapping so good around my cock." He was biting your neck neck while he was thrusting fast and hard.

You were a moaning mess, no thoughts in your head only his name.

Your back was hurting by the hard wall but you couldn't care less about it now.

Azriel got out of you and let you down but before you started to complain he turned you around pressing you against the cold wall and started thrusting hard into you from behind.

On of his hands grabbed your ass hard, its definitely gonna leave a bruise there and his other hand was in your hair pulling your head back so he can kiss you.

The only sound in the house was your moans and the flesh on flesh slapping you making.

"Az, baby I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come." I managed to say.

"Be a good girl and make a mess on my cock love." His words bringing you closer to your climax, you were feeling his was close to by his sloppy thrusts and the louder moans he was making.

You grabbed his hand and arched your back as you reached your climax and he thrusted one more time filling you with his cum.

His thrusts became more slow not wanting to waste any of his cum and grabbed your neck and pulled your head back kissing your forehead.

"Good girl." He whispered in your ear while he was pulling out of you and put his head on the crook of your neck.

You felt his seed dripping from pussy to your trembling thighs, while you turned your head and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

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

Next morning you woke up in your bed, feeling sore from yesterdays activities.

You had no idea how you ended up on your shared bedroom, flashbacks from last night came to your mind, after the hall Azriel took you to the bath to both clean up only to end up on top of him riding.

After that you both went to the kitchen to eat something and you ended up bending over the counter while Azriel was fucking you ruthless from behind, and he ended up eating you on the dinner table.

You bite your lips because you were turned on again and you turn your head to see your handsome mate sleeping next to you, laying on his chest with both hands under the pillow, some light was coming through the window and fall over his sleeping face and black hair, he was so peaceful while he was sleeping.

Some light shadows was flying around him and his wings were opened slightly.

You started caressing the sensitive skin of his wings and you hear a low grunt coming from your mate.

"Keep doing that love and you will be screaming my name." He said with his eyes closed and a smirk on his face.

You knew his wings were sensitive and a very erogenus area for the illyrians, so you kept teasing him.

"Is that a promise Azriel?" You asked him teasingly.

With a quick motion he was hovering over you, his already hard cock was pushing your entrance as he lean in to kiss you.

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

The whole week you stayed lock up the two of you in the house of wind with lots of sex, the inner circle started to worried and the sent Feyre and Rhys to look for you only to find you inside the studying room, you kneeling before Azriel while he was sitting on the couch his wings spread and his hands on your head guiding his cock on your mouth.

You and Feyre was so red and after that, that both of you couldn't speak to each other.

Azriel and Rhysand was ok, and when Rhysand told Cassian what happened he burst out laughing.

They were the perfect family you thought.

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

[absolutebl]

Top 10 Best BLs on Gagaoolala

My Beautiful Man AKA Utsukushii Kare

Japan 2021

One of the most Japanese BLs to release in the last decade, as weird and as messed up as any 2000s yaoi: emo af and hella warped, entirely true to itself with no attempt made to modify its POV for modern sensibilities or current BL fandom. It used seriously old school problematic and kinky tropes, like whipping boy, for a truly uncompromising piece that also manages to hit up themes of communication, consent, and self acceptance. It’s a wonderful BL but uniquely dirty and harsh, in the best possible way - Japanese cinema, uncompromising.

I lost my ever loving mind over the ending. This show won the Grand Prix “My Best TV Award” at the 16th Galaxy Awards.

Minato's Laundromat AKA Minato Shouji Coin Laundry

Japan 2022

A classic age gap romance where a high school student pursues the man of his dreams (who runs a laundromat). This BL is so steeped in yaoi nostalgia, not to mention a classic romance arc, that it will overload some, but those of us who love this genre for its DNA will adore it. It made me very happy because it did everything I want a BL to do - there’s not much more I could ask of a show than this. It’s the closest Japan has come to perfect live action yaoi since Seven Days (and I never make that comparison lightly).

Squee watch-along here.

My Ride

Thai 2022

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest, and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple.

Takara & Amagi AKA Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

Japan 2022 I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this BL. Reserved cool kid who must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning. Was there plot? Not really. Was it emotionally tense and paced well enough for me not to notice? Absolutely. Did I enjoy the hell out of it? Oh yes.

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Taiwan 2023

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan.

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan 2023

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that part is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan.

Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku

Japan 2023

A lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the manga (which is very dear to my heart). And they did, paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

Step By Step

Thai 2023

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This office romance between a stern boss and sweet subordinate felt more authentic to cubical work than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. That authenticity added tension to the narrative and its characters development (how novel). I also really enjoyed the charming side characters and the brothers' relationship to each other (although I could have done without that brother's side BL).

Long Time No See

Korea (Strongberry) 2017

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war who fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blog (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the hidden gems of the BL genre.

About Youth

Taiwan 2022

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit.

Some of these shows ALSO appeared on Viki or iQIYI, but these BLs will appear only once on these round up posts (here for Gaga), not on the other platforms top 10.

(source)

This list updated Spring 2024, not responsible for cool stuff that aired on Gaga (or was taken off the platform) after that date.

This is part of a series more here:

[heartfullofleeches]

“I've heard dreams are a pleasant escape for some people. Is it strange that all of my dreams revolve around you?"

fucking sobbing i love him so much (dea uses any pronouns right?)

id do everything i can to praise them in any/every way for the smallest things. theyre literally the sweetest. Any input on how they’d react if we just started calling them our spouse/partner out of the blue one day? -zs

[Using he/they for this fic but yes, Dea uses any pronouns. ]

Dea enjoyed grocery shopping with you. While the deity could simply will the ingredients needed for your meals into existence - there was something special about going out in public while at your side. They aren't one to boast about your relationship, but it's nice to have other bare witness of it. Their heart fills with joy whenever a human sees you as potential interest - only to be detered once they see the god lucky enough to reach you first hovering over your shoulder.

The two of you stand in line at checkout when someone calls your name from afar. If you noticed Dea taking a step closer as the familiar face approached you paid no attention to it. They squeeze your hand gently as you engage in conversation with your acquaintance. The god had finally worked up the courage to ask for your hand- Not in marriage, but at least whilst you were out and about. Dea had been quite fortunate when it came to your relationship however they doubted you'd go even to those lengths with them.

Alas - a god could dream-

"So who's this behind you?"

"Oh, right you moved away before I met them. This is Dea.. We've been together for a few years now- They're my spouse."

".S...."

Spouse? Surely they misheard you. Dea felt blessed just being able to hold your hand. Spouse. The word repeats in their head. A beautiful, yet hauntingly cruel title. How could you call them your spouse when they hadn't even presented you with a ring yet? Could they even obtain a piece of jewelry on that would properly convey their eternal devotion to you before you lost interest and moved on? Spouse.. They're you're spouse. What could they have possibly done to deserve this honor?

Your vision distorts as a hitched breath tickles your ear. You look up to see Dea - hiding the glittery tears building in their eyes and the cracks forming along their skin with their robes. You bite pass the dizziness you feel as their physical form slips to grip their hand tighter as they sob.

"Dea...Are you.. okay?"

'I'm fine... I am more than alright, My Grace, I just - got a little overwhelmed. Thank you. Thank you for choosing me. I promise you not a single day will go by without me expressing the depths of my affections towards you. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Dea...." You kiss away their tears, dropping your voice to a whisper.

"But we really have to work on getting you outside without tearing a hole in my reality."

[nethhiri]

Chapter 63: Fate's Wraith

Warnings: Sex, violence, gore

Happy birthday, Eustass Kid! (sorry ya didn't get laid in this chapter)

Seated comfortably in Killer's lap, you were enjoying the party. You were several drinks deep and currently indulging in a rich chocolate cake, your favorite. Killer had made it special for you. Every bite was more sinful than the last. You really wanted to kiss him, but couldn't due to the mask, so you settled for his neck, which was now decorated with a few chocolate smears. He fed you the last piece by hand and you licked the frosting off his fingers, the same way you had done so long ago when you first joined the crew, or were a semi-hostage on the ship, same thing. 

"Why don't ya lick my fingers clean, doll?" Kid held his hand out to you.

You curled your lip. "No thanks. I'm not confident that you wash your hands."

Kid held out his flesh hand. "I wash this one," he said in earnest. 

Something on his finger glinted in the torchlight. You squinted at it. Is that...?  It was the little snake you had made, wrapped around his finger as a ring. Why would he keep that? And why would he turn it into a ring and wear it?! He better not think it's some symbol of being together. Heat rose to your face. That fucking asshole. 

"WHAT IS THAT?" You pointed to it accusingly. "Take that off right now!"

"Hah?! No way! I like it." Kid covered it protectively with his metal hand. "It looks badass."

"You said it looked like a turd!"

"I changed my mind!" Kid retorted. "Is that a crime?" 

"Yes! Take it off!"

"Yer gonna have to pry it from my cold, dead body." Kid sneered.

"I'm gonna kill you worse than I've ever killed anyone before!" 

You got up from Killer's lap and slammed your hands on the table before Killer tugged you back into his lap and pinned you with his arms over your stomach. 

"Do not ruin another dinner for everyone." Killer chided. "You can kill him after everyone's had dessert."

You turned and buried your face in Killer's chest. "But, Killer, he's being sentimental at me." 

"I know, sweetheart. Why don't you have another beer?" Killer waved one of the rookies over to get you one.

Killer would probably regret that suggestion. You did have another beer. And another. And another. And now, you were full on attacking his neck with your mouth. He had gently pushed you off a few times, but had given up. Next, he would have to swat your hands away from wandering. Killer grabbed your wrists and held them. You looked around. Everyone was busy in conversation or passed out already. Kid was in the middle of attempting to wrestle Heat and Wire at the same time. 

"Hey, Kil? I just realized I lost something in the forest earlier. Will you help me find it?"

"You want me to help you search the entire forest right now? At night?"

You put more emphasis on your words. "Yeah. I need you to go in the forest with me to look. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Can't we do it in the morning? We've both had a lot to drink and it's dark. I don't think we'll find it."

You rolled your eyes. "Killer, I'm trying to suck your dick."

"Oh. OH!" Killer quickly got up with you. 

You grabbed his hand and dragged him several feet into the forest. Close enough to the edge where you wouldn't get lost but no one would be able to see or hear. Shoving Killer against the nearest tree, you went straight for his pants, unbuckling them. You bit and kissed his neck while you slipped your hand into his jeans. You sighed smugly against his skin when you found that he was already hard. You stroked him a few times, feeling him grow in your hand. 

"Good boy," you purred. 

Killer whined as you sank down, kissing down his chest and his hip bones. You tugged his jeans down slightly lower so his cock was fully exposed. Wasting no time, you took him in your mouth, bobbing as far down as you could go without gagging. Using your hand, you spread spit down the rest of his shaft so you could jerk him off in time with your mouth. Hearing him moan and his breathing get heavy urged you on. You wanted him to cum so badly, to feel him flood your throat. Your lips tightened around him and pressed your tongue to the underside of his shaft. Every time he moaned it made you suck him off with more fervor. It was so hot hearing him receive pleasure, and that you were making it happen. 

"Fuck, Y/N." Killer gripped your head in his hands, unable to resist fucking your mouth as he got close. "I'm gonna cum. Fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

Killer's hands wove into your hair and pulled on it as he came. You felt his seed, warm and salty hit the back on your throat. It was more than you were expecting and you were a little sloppier than normal. Some of his cum dripped from the corner of your mouth. You wiped it from your face, rising to your feet. Killer was still panting with his head tilted up, putting his dick away. 

Returning to the party, Killer right behind you, no one noticed you had slipped away. Kid, Wire, and Heat were finished wrestling. Kid and Heat were passing something between them, taking a drag of whatever it was each time. You grabbed someone's half-eaten cake and finished it. Wire turned in for bed early. Kid, Killer, Heat, and yourself sat around a bonfire for a while, accompanied by more drinking and joking. Kid and Heat were getting progressively more squirmy. You were deep in conversation with Killer when you were hauled off by Kid, who muttered something about needing to go to bed. Whatever they had smoked had made Kid even more horny than he already was and tasting Killer on your lips only made the situation worse. It took you and Killer both to take care of him. 

It was the middle of the night and your eyes blinked open, full of sleep. There was a soft clearing of the throat and a hand tapping your leg. You stretched and blinked a few more times. The form at the end of the bed was Heat, who, even in the dark, looked uncomfortable. You sat up and crawled closer to him, trying not to wake Killer. Kid wouldn't wake up if you dropped a rock on his head, which you had considered doing once or twice. 

"Heat? What's wrong?" You whispered. 

"Um, did you notice anything weird with Kid?"

"You woke me up to ask about Kid?"

"N-no. I just... I found this herb earlier today that we both smoked. I thought it was Dryad Breath, which gives you a very calming high. I think... it was actually Breedweed, self-explanatory." 

Heat was noticeably covering the front of his pants. As if you hadn't already seen what was underneath. Kid was horny, but Kid was always horny, so maybe you didn't notice a difference. Maybe his dick felt slightly harder and maybe he came more than usual? You weren't entirely paying attention when you were face-first in a pillow. 

"I see."

"Do you... know of an antidote? Do you have it?"

"No, but I know how Kid's problem was solved. Wire can't help you out?"

"No. He said I need to learn a lesson about smoking random stuff from the forest... again." Heat mumbled, "And you're the doctor... and sort of the only other person I like... to sleep with, I mean."

"Let me see." You prompted again when Heat was reluctant. "Do you want me to help or not? I want to go back to sleep."

Heat dropped his hands. There was the problem, alright, and it was sizable. You turned to make sure you hadn't woken Killer. You put a finger to your lips in a gesture for him to be quiet. Killer wouldn't care, however, you didn't want to interrupt his beauty sleep. That would be rude. You tugged Heat's pants down and watched his erection bounce from its confines. The tip looked engorged with blood. It had been several hours since you had gone to bed. Heat must have been trying to wait it out this entire time. 

The sight of you staring at his dick had him leaking precum. Heat couldn't decide if he liked the idea of you being impressed by it or being disgusted by it better. He had tried several times on his own to take care of his own problem, but no matter how many times he came close, he couldn't cum. He needed to be buried in someone, desperately. He had to bite his lip to keep from whining when he felt your breath ghost across the top of his cock. He couldn't stop himself from putting his hands in your hair to guide you forward. 

You snatched his hands away from you and pinned them to his sides. Standing up so you could be closer to his height, you ran a finger up his chest and cupped his throat in your hand. 

"No touching. This is purely professional." Your grip tightened on his throat and directed him onto the bed. "Lay down."

"But Killer and-" Heat protested. 

"Lay down or leave." 

He reluctantly slid where you had been sleeping between them. "What if they wake up?"

"You should have thought of that before you brought your hard cock in the room." You added, "Kid won't wake up."

Straddling him, you brought your knees to the bed. You spit into your hand and spread it over the tip of his cock, mixing it with the precum that was still dripping from him. You pulled the panties you were wearing to the side, lowering yourself onto him. Heat groaned when he was sheathed fully inside you. You tossed the shirt you were wearing to the floor. Smirking, you watched him struggle with not being allowed to touch you. His brown eyes were fixated on you perched atop him. 

"Please. Please move." Heat's voice cracked. "I need to cum so badly. Please."

You rolled your hips very slightly. "You want the doctor to make you all better?"

"Yes! Please, yes!" Heat groaned, "It's starting to hurt. I'm begging you."

You lifted yourself up and down at a painfully slow pace, teasing Heat some more. He was flushed. He was sweating. He was panting. Every time you lifted up, it was excruciatingly difficult for him to resist fucking up into you or pulling your hips roughly down on him. He knew if he did that, you would stop right there and then. When he appeared to be getting uncomfortable, you would move and offer him some relief. 

"Y/N, please," Heat pleaded, nearly in tears.

"I think Wire might have been right. I think you need to learn a lesson."

"No! I learned my lesson! I need you." Heat whined. "I need to cum in you."

"Do you think you deserve to cum in me?"

Heat looked away, his face flushed and a mix of pain and pleasure. "No." 

"Right answer." 

Heat covered his face with his hands to keep from groaning too loudly as you started to move. You lifted yourself up and let your hips drop onto his, impaling your cervix on the tip of his cock every time you came down. You watched Heat's face contort with pleasure so intense it hurt. He was biting his lip and covering his mouth and doing everything in his power to keep from crying out. You watched his eyes get teary and roll back. You watched his hands grip the sheet so hard his knuckles turned white.

Your eyes slid over to Killer's sleeping form, the one that wasn't sleeping any more. His bright, blue eyes were slits, still sleepy. There was the ghost of a grin on his face as he palmed himself at a leisurely pace. His soft cock slowly woke up, same as him, as he watched you ride Heat. Killer loved his your tits bounced and how wet your pussy sounded, but he especially loved that you were focused on him and ignoring Heat even though Heat was the one with his cock buried in you. Heat was losing the battle to keep his sounds contained. He was definitely close to cumming.

"I know you're not thinking of cumming before my darlin here." Killer said, voice gravelly from sleep.

"Kil-Killer!" Heat's eyes went wide, flitting between you and him. 

"Let me help you with that." 

Killer sat up, catching your mouth with his. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him to you, devouring his kisses while you rode Heat. Killer's mouth travelled to your neck, just where he knew you liked it. His big, rough hands groped your tits before being replaced with his mouth. His hand continued down until his finger was on your clit. Your back arched at the sensation. Killer knew you well by this point. He knew everything that turned you on. He had you close to finishing in a matter of minutes, which was a godsend to Heat, who was barely holding on. 

"Go on, baby. I know you want to cum."

Killer's words had an instant effect on you. Your hips bucked against his fingers, rubbing your clit harder against him as you felt the wave of tingling heat hit you. The pleasure flowed out from your center. Killer's mouth covered yours again as you cried out. You mewled against him, sliding your tongue against his and riding your high. You wish you were cumming on his cock instead of Heat's. Killer pulled away from you for just a second, enough to tell Heat that it was okay to release, fill you up with cum.

Heat was sure that he started spurting ropes of cum into you the second you came, but Killer's words had him experiencing the most volatile orgasm of his life. He felt like he couldn't stop the cum from shooting into your cunt. There was so much. It was starting to leak from where you were both connected. Even then, he was still going. Your cunt was so warm and wet, and it was milking him of everything he had. He understood why Kid and Killer were holed up with you for the past several days. 

You were still panting from your release, breathlessly growling at Heat, "Get out." 

"Wh-?"

"Are you waiting for a lollipop? You're cured. Get out." You were already climbing off him and stroking Killer's cock, kissing him between words. 

Heat hastily got off the bed, mind still scrambled from his orgasm. He knew better than to incur your wrath, no matter how sexy it was when you yelled at him. "Yes. Ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." 

Killer was already finger fucking you, pinning you beneath him and trying to bring you to another orgasm. He was panting heavily, cock twitching after watching you bounce on Heat. He craved that tight, hot cunt for himself. Killer threw you over Kid so your ass was up in the air, hips resting on Kid's side. 

"Are we-?" There was a hopeful tone in your voice.

"Using Kid as sex furniture? Yeah."

It was impressive how much Kid could sleep through: canon fire, severe storms, monstrous waves, several rounds of sex followed by earth-shattering, bone-breaking orgasms.

It was beginning to get boring, being on the island. It had been a week. There was nothing to do but spar, eat, and fuck while you waited for this alliance meeting. At this moment, you were doing the first thing. Even though you used a gun as your primary weapon, you were skilled at hand to hand combat. It was funny how all the men, especially the bigger ones, all thought they could take you. Had they forgotten about when you had sparred with the other officers? The trick was to use their momentum against them. You flipped them onto their backs with ease. The girls fought closer to your own style, so they required a little more skill. 

"Let me go!" Quincy pouted. "I know what's been between these thighs and I don't want to get any on me!" 

You had her in a hold with your legs and rolled your eyes. "Chill out." 

Releasing her, you waited for another volunteer. Heat stepped forward. 

"Heat step back. You've already gone 4 times." 

"But I like when you catch me between your thighs."

"Everyone does." You heard Quincy protest from somewhere on deck. "Killer is thrilled at the marked increase in everyone's participation and fighting skills since I started leading sparring."

The other reason Killer wanted you to take a turn leading sparring sessions was that no one had to hold back since you could heal whatever injuries occurred. You had broken and healed numerous arms. A few jaws had been broken. But real stakes led to better reaction times and avoidance skills. 

"I'll go." Wire planted his trident in the ground. "Let's get a little more serious."

You nodded, a grin spread across your face. "Are you sure?"

"Come on, little marine girl." Wire took a fighting stance with his weapon. 

A yellow glow enveloped your bracer as it moved from your arm and molded into a spear. Wire knew better than to call you that, outside of role-play that is. You gave it a few experimental twirls before taking up a similar stance. Everybody immediately took a step back when you started fighting. There was no warm up. This was full force from the beginning. Loud metal clangs filled the air as you attacked and parried each other. The force reverberating down your arms was jarring as his trident made contact with your spear. Wire had an advantage with his height and arm span. He had more range than you did. You found yourself blocking more than attacking. 

It only took one millisecond of lag in reaction time to change for someone to land a hit. Unfortunately the someone was you. The pain didn't come right away. You were suddenly on your knees, on the ground, with the points of Wire's trident sticking through the front of your body on the right side. The pain came right after you saw the blood trickling out of your mouth and down your front. It was excruciating and it wasn't even the pain of being impaled that hurt the most. It was the choking, gasping pain of your right lung collapsing and not being able to breathe. Everything was silent except for the sound of your rasping. 

Any good warrior wouldn't go down that easily, nor would they go down alone. Your torso and Wire's trident simultaneously glowed with pale yellow light. Wire was still in shock over accidentally stabbing you. His own trident slithered up his arm and wrapped around him like a constrictor. The holes left in its wake disappeared as you healed your wounds. Your vision went black for a moment while your breath still escaped you. As your lung was repairing, it came back and the first things you saw were the blue and white stripes of Killer's mask. 

"Y/N! Are you okay?!" Killer's hand rested on your back, ready to catch you if you passed out. 

You coughed up blood. "Of course I'm okay. Who do you think I am?"

While Killer was checking on you, Kid was yelling at Wire.

"BE MORE CAREFUL! YA COULD HAVE KILLED 'ER." Kid barked in his face. "I LEAVE YA ALONE FOR AN HOUR AND I COME BACK TO MAKING A KEBAB OF MY WOMAN. YA DID THIS ON PURPOSE! YA NEVER LIKED HER!" 

Killer turned to Kid. "HEY! STOP ALL THAT, KID." 

You pushed yourself up. It was like nothing ever happened. You put yourself in front of Wire and pushed Kid back, Wire still bound by his manipulated trident. 

"Stop. We were sparring. I'm fine."

"IT'S NOT FINE WHEN I SEE YA ON THE GROUND, COVERED IN RED, MAKING A HORRIBLE GURGLING SOUND LIKE YER DROWNIN IN YER OWN BLOOD!"

The soft side of Kid came out when you least expected. In spite of the fact he was screaming, the way he cared so deeply for you was coming through. There was a tenderness in his eyes. Killer pulled Kid away for a stern word. You reverted Wire's trident to its original shape, freeing him. He seemed both irritated and apologetic. 

"Sorry about that." He said. 

"No need to apologize. It's all part of the spar as far as I'm concerned." 

"Kid loves you," Wire stated, matter-of-factly. 

"I know." You sighed. "But if you ever say that out loud to me or anyone else again I will shove that trident so far inside you, it'll tickle your brain."

"Fair enough."

When Killer dragged Kid back, he apologized to Wire for his accusations. Wire and the rest of the crowd dispersed to go do other things, sparring clearly and firmly over. 

"What did you guys come over here for anyway? Thought you were doing something."

Killer shared a glance with Kid. "Nothing."

"Aye. Nothin." 

They were both suspect, though you didn't pry further. They walked with you along the beach, towards the ship. You meant to go back to the castle, but you were semi-herded in this direction by the two broad men. The hair on your neck raised as you noticed a second ship next to the Victoria. An enemy? No, it looked familiar. It was a marine vessel, yet not quite. It was painted like one; the shape was wrong though, slimmer, more agile in appearance. Your breath caught in your throat. No. No, they couldn't have. It couldn't be. 

You stopped dead in your tracks. "What is that?"

Kid had a proud, smug smirk on his face. Killer seemed very pleased with himself as well. 

"You tell us, darlin."

"How the fuck did you get that?"

"I got my ways, doll."

You ran ahead, wanting to confirm your suspicions with a closer inspection. It was the most beautiful ship you'd ever laid eyes on. It was your ship, Fate's Wraith. Some things had been altered of course. The bones were the same. Forgetting in the moment where and when you were in time, you ran straight into the waves. You wanted to put your hands on her and feel the wood. You wanted to be on her deck and look over the wheel again. The ocean sapped your strength and you flopped face first into the water. Killer was right behind you, swift to pick you up, out of the waves. 

You stood at the very edge of the sand when Killer put you down. It was a good thing your face was wet because there was a good chance you had tears running down your cheeks. You never thought you would see her again. You didn't think you wanted to or needed to. Your reaction was stronger than you would have thought. Nostalgia washed over you. So much of your life was dedicated to that ship. So much of your infamy was born on that ship. Only the final moments on that ship were tainted with bad memories. The rest were glorious. 

Barely noticeable to you, as you had no feeling that you were doing it, a soft, dandelion luminance moved gradually over the exterior of the vessel. The ship was evolving as you remembered her. Kid and Killer watched in awe as the ship before them was restored to its former glory. The wooden planks became pristine. The paint was bright white. The sails were unworn. Whatever marine name was inscribed on it disintegrated away and was replaced by the vibrant blue script that displayed the ship's namesake: Fate's Wraith. It was beautiful. 

You stumbled as the ship took the form of its best condition, the condition it was in during your best years. You only realized you had used your devil fruit when you got incredibly tired all of the sudden. Killer supported you with his arm when your knees sagged. 

"I was hopin to wait for this moment to ask ya to be one of my commanders, but ya forced my hand early." Kid ruffled your hair. He sounded more serious than he usually was. "I know ya said this was yer crew and Victoria was yer ship. And that makes me happy. It does. But I know deep down ya miss being a captain. Be a captain for me. I want ya to be a captain in my fleet." 

Next

Tag list: @bbnbhm @wgwingguns @nocturnalrorobin @lycanthropemaul

[vaserlord]

Inspired by this post, because I agree with every word. So trigger warning just in case.

***

It was day… He had lost count, honestly. At the beginning, when he was first shoved here with those shiny new promises of care, he counted the days.

Two days since the treaty. Five since he started living with Voldemort. Seven since the Dark Lord said he was precious, cherished, something… a thing… to be protected.

One… one day since the obsession took its final turn. He had lost all other counts. Nothing mattered after day one.

Harry shifted, looking at his bare thighs. Again. At the faint bruises. Barely there. Even less pronounced than what Dudley used to give him. And yet… far more damaging. A brand. A permanent rot under his skin, under his flesh. Disgusting. He was disgusting.

What did he do? Was it the conversation that evening? Had he been too friendly? He was just trying to keep the peace, but… maybe Voldemort had seen it differently? Had he, unknowingly, given some kind of sign? An invitation? Was it his fault?

It definitely was. His body… he…

Harry shifted again, burying his warm, stinging eyes in the crook of his elbow. The all-encompassing wave of shame and guilt swallowed him whole.

Disgusting. He was disgusting.

He hated himself for all of it. For not resisting harder, for resigning in the end. For submitting to this… this process.

He hated himself.

A hot, burning feeling rose in his chest. It called for violence. For peeling the skin off his body. For shoving his hands into the ribcage and ripping that useless heart out. Would it stop the feeling? Would he finally be able to look at himself in a mirror again?

No… he thought. No. Even if the feelings disappeared - all the hatred and shame and this rot - even then, his body would still be tainted. Dirty. Used.

He had never truly belonged to himself. Always someone’s freak, someone’s savior, someone’s champion, someone’s liar… someone’s savior again. Always someone’s. But even then, he had his last reprieve: the safety of his own mind, of his own body. He could always rely on himself.

Now though… even that had been taken from him. With cold hands and words of obsession. With a hot mouth and coaxing. And force. And blindness to his pleas.

He felt broken. Like the long crack that had been there his whole life had finally reached the edge.

Many people - he thought - had experienced this. Many people who had been where he is now and still found the strength to move forward.

He wasn’t special. So many had it worse. So why… why did he so desperately want to cease? To cease to exist. Just disappear. Just not be.

This was too much. He hated, hated, hated himself. He didn’t want to be Harry anymore. He didn’t want to live in this body. He didn’t want to feel all this blackness and pain and anger. He was so angry with himself. So tired.

Why…

Why?Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywh—

Why him? Why was it always him?

He was the trouble. Uncle Vernon was right. He always caused trouble. Always made things worse. It was his fault. All of it was his fault. He was broken. A broken piece, always endangering people around him. Always ruining something. Always the cause. He was rot.

Now his body just matched what he truly was. Dirty. Disgusting. Trouble. Horcrux.

It would have been better if he had never been born, he thought. Would have saved so much suffering for others. It would have been better, he thought, if he didn’t exist anymore.

He ruined everything. And now, after this… he would never be able to look his friends in the eyes again, even if he saw them. He would never be able to look at himself and not see the handprints all over.

Yes. It would be better for everyone if he just disappeared. Maybe his friends would mourn him. But if they knew - if they knew how filthy he truly was - they wouldn’t care. He was sure of it. He finally returned to point zero.

Nobody will care.

They would know eventually. Everyone would know. And he couldn’t face them. He couldn’t let people look at him. No. It would be better for everyone. Better for himself.

He didn’t want to be.

He wasn’t anymore.