#they have no right to make jokes about something that ruined another ones life

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

[leonsgfpost]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Leon experiences a good dose of jealousy.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: Leon (RE6) x fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampies, jealousy, hair pulling, overstimulation.

Leon swears he isn't a jealous man, he is an adult and responsible man. Jealousy he considers silly, for insecure or stupid guys. And he's nothing like that. But there's something about how his fingers seem to tingle every time another guy gets too close or talks to you like he knows everything about you. They don't know you like he knows you, no one does it like he does.

He hates how they make excuses to touch you, brush your shoulder or your hand, maybe.

He hates how some turn their head to look at the pretty little thing walking hand in hand.

Hate how the coffee shop worker down the street smiles too much at you or draws a little heart next to your name on the coffee cup.

He hates all that shit.

But, wait, he's not a jealous man.

So, why is he ramming you like he hates you? Like you did something wrong? It wasn't your fault that man tried to get a few smiles out of you by making dumb jokes. That man even had the audacity to run his fingers through a lock of your hair.

The same hair he was pulling mercilessly right now, clutching his fingers between your silky soft locks and burying your face in the sheets. Too bad, he won't be kind tonight.

You let out a small sob as you felt his fingers circle your clit again, with hard, firm strokes. Asking, no, demanding that you give him another orgasm. Which one was it? The second or the third? You were already too fucked up to be able to think of anything else.

"Come on, aren't you smiling anymore? huh?" He asks, almost indignantly. His heavy breathing brushed against your back, feeling him settle in so he could keep up with the brutal rhythm of his cock quickly burying itself in your pretty pussy. If you were a little more conscious, you'd start thinking about his words. What the hell is he talking about? You don't know.

But he knows, and he knows it well.

"What's the matter? H-Have you already gone dumb for a little attention?" his words dripped sarcasm, annoyance. His fingers released your clitoris, running his hand wet with your discharge up your abdomen to cup one of your breasts.

"Leon-! D-Don't stop, don't stop..." You mumbled completely dizzy without paying attention to his words, burying your flushed face in the unraveling sheets. Your fingers clutched at the sheets as if your life depended on it.

No matter how rough, you loved it. What more would a girl want than for her big, big boyfriend to ruin her tight little pussy? Exactly.

"I'm the only one, r-right? This pretty pussy belongs to me, I'll take care of branding it." he murmured, straightening her back a little. His hand released your hair, finally. Lowering both of his hands to your hips.

"Hold on, babe. Fuck-" He said, almost teasingly and you knew he had that cocky smile on his lips. His fingers dug into your hips, starting to push back your body to meet his onslaught. You could swear you could feel it in your stomach.

His head fell back and his jaw relaxed, lost in the ecstasy of the pleasure of your wet, tight walls fluttering around his cock eager to hit that sweet spot inside you. That spot that only he knows. Only him.

He furrows his brows as he feels his dick begin to jerk inside you, quivering as he stretches your walls like his favorite activity. He lowers his narrowed eyes, heavy with pleasure to your pussy watching the semen from his previous loads splatter your thighs from the force of his thrusts. What a mess, right? He was a disastrous man. He would be almost embarrassed if you caught him in the middle of his little tantrum.

"Oh, Honey, Honey, Honey..." Leon's hoarse huskiness became almost sticky, feeling his brain melt as his dick ached with how sensitive it was, its dripping tip focused on being able to give you another load.

"God, God, this pussy... This-Fuck..." He couldn't even finish his sentences. His gasps echoed in the room, along with the slaps of his full, straining balls slapping against the wetness of your skin.

He leaned forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and pushed his chest hard against your back, pinning your body in an almost animalistic way so he could empty his balls inside you. You heard him moan in an almost embarrassed way, you could tease him later.

His hips kept thrusting little thrusts, almost in an agonizing way trying to push more of his thick cum inside you, wanting to fill every space of the pussy he loved so much.

His little punishment didn't go very far, because the one who ended up fucked and with his balls as empty as his head, was him. You've got this man ruined.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: special mention to @ilylovelyz thanks for the idea and the support 🫶🏼💕💕

(💌) bye, bye !

[cutielando]

Hiii I'm kinda nervous cuz I'm still kinda new to requesting stuff! Could you maybe do like female!reader x Oscar Piastri where r is not English but knows it fluently but when it comes to talking in it she stutters and stuff cuz she's shy but wants to say things good like she does in her head and maybe Oscar comforts her or teaches her to say them easier myb??? Idk if you understood my request, hope you did.. write it if you fell comfortable with it!! 🤎🤎

language troubles | o.p.

warnings!!: difficulty speaking English

my masterlist

Oscar loved the way you talked.

Especially your accent whenever you spoke English.

It wasn't your native language, you had learned it your whole life as a second language, so you still had some troubles when it came to pronouncing certain words and expressing yourself.

When you met Oscar, the whole dynamic between you two was very funny and awkward at first due to his accent and the differences between Australians and other English-speaking countries.

It was especially endearing to both of you whenever he would use certain Australia-specific words, which you would have no idea what they meant, and watching your cute scrunched up face made Oscar's heart swell even more in his chest.

In contrast to Oscar's endearment of your little pronunciation problem, you were embarrassed every time you wouldn't be able to say a certain word.

You found that you struggle most with talking in English right when you wake up. It takes a while for you to function in the mornings, so you always need a little time before things get going in your brain.

That's also Oscar's favorite time with you, mainly because he loves the way you stutter because of how tired you are.

It was currently 8 in the morning and you had woken up purely by accident, therefore ruining your sleep. Oscar was still sleeping when you walked out of the bedroom silently, but it wasn’t long before his steps slowly walked towards the kitchen where you stood, his tired eyes taking in your figure immediately.

“Morning” he murmured, kissing the top of your head once he was close enough.

“Hey” you smiles tiredly at him, leaning against his warm body.

“What are you doing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around your shivering body.

“I’m waiting for the kapushino machine to finish my drink” you said, not even realizing what you had said.

“What machine now?” Oscar asked you, trying to suppress the laughter threatening to escape his lips.

“The kapushino machine” you repeated, confused and unaware still.

Oscar couldn’t help now but chuckle, making you look up at him as you felt his chest vibrate against your cheek.

“It’s cappuccino, babe” he corrected you, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Slowly, realization started spreading out all over your face, making your cheeks pink up in embarrassment.

You hid your face into Oscar’s chest as he laughed softly, rubbing your back in soothing manners.

“I can’t believe I just mispronounced cappuccino” you groaned, making Oscar pout at how cute you were.

"That's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed about it" he cooed, kissing the top of your head just before the coffee machine finished brewing the fresh pot.

You threw your head back as you stepped away from Oscar's hold, filling your mug and taking a sip of the hot beverage.

Oscar was used to correcting you whenever you would fail to pronounce things correctly, it was something you secretly loved about him.

He never made fun of you, never made jokes about the fact that you sometimes struggled to speak the language, he just accepted you for who you were, helping you along the way as best as he could.

That was one of the many reasons why you loved him.

Even if it sometimes got annoying for the both of you.

♡♡♡♡♡

Another cute moment like this happened at dinner with his family after the Australian Grand Prix.

You were fairly new to the whole world of Formula 1 and frankly, you were still a foreign when it came to Australian culture.

Oscar’s family always did their best to help you adapt more and more with each visit there, especially his mother and sisters.

You spent a lot of time on Twitter, it was a very bad habit for you, but you were very confused when tweets about your boyfriend being a serial killer popped up on your page.

Your eyebrows furrowed, looking at the posts confused. Oscar came into the room in the middle of your deep dive, stopping when he saw how focused you were on your phone.

“Babe? Everything alright?” he asked, watching you jump up and look up at him.

You hadn’t even realized he had come into the room, that’s how distracted you were.

“Why is everyone on Twitter saying you’re a mureder?” you asked with a frown on your face.

Oscar tried to contain his laughter when he heard you trying to pronounce the word murderer, but he figured laughing in the current situation was not the best idea.

“Who’s saying that?” he asked, indulging you as he slowly walked and sat down next to you on the couch.

“There’s a bunch of people who made a thread on Twitter saying you’re a mureder and that you killed people” you urgently explained, showing him your phone.

He took the phone from your hands, barely glancing at what you were reading before he gave it back to you.

He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before he cupped your cheek in his hand, smiling at your still distressed face.

“They’re confusing me with someone else, Oscar Pistorius. I’m not a murderer” Oscar explained, putting an emphasis on the word murderer.

You nodded silently, taking in his words. When you noticed the smile with which Oscar was looking at you, you slowly realized that, most probably, you had just had another fail when dealing with the wonderful English language.

Smiling sheepishly, you buried your head into his shoulder as he chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you close to his chest.

"English gives up on me when I least expect it" you complained, getting more comfortable in your boyfriend's hold.

"You just have an on-and-off relationship, pretty toxic if you're asking me" he joked, making you laugh out loud.

Oscar always knew how to make you feel better, especially after some fails which would leave you embarrassed in front of him. He was sweet like that.

Even when your own brain and language failed you, Oscar never did.

You'd conquer English one day.

Oscar would make sure of that.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[girlokwhatever]

PLEASE 🙏 paige x reader where they are in a situationship and reader is jealous

༉‧₊˚.*ೃ༄༊*·˚･ﾟﾟ･｡ that should be me,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

yeah, you definitely hated her. you didn’t know her, but you fucking hated her.

you sat across the table from paige, secretly stealing glances of her and some other girl you had never met before in your life. you can’t even recall anyone mentioning her before tonight, but apparently she was close enough friends with aubrey to be invited to her birthday dinner.

you didn’t like her at all. her jokes always missed and killed the vibe, she said random out-of-pocket things every five seconds, and she had this insanely high-pitched laugh. or maybe you didn’t like her because of the way she was touching paige’s arm.

either way, she was running your last nerve thin.

you had arrived to the restaurant with paige, your held hands being separated once you walked inside. you and paige had something going on and most of your friends knew, poking fun and teasing you every now and then. you both wanted to take it slow since both of your schedules were busy, but you definitely wouldn’t say either of you were single.

she was your situation.

you wanted to sit next to her at the table but the plans had quickly changed when this girl insisted on sitting there. you had been halfway into the seat when her hand landed firmly on your shoulder, shaking to get your attention.

that was the moment that started it you think. that and the flirtatious touches. you thought it was so obvious what she was trying to do, but apparently paige didn’t pick up any of the cues.

it was embarrassing for you and her. here you were with all your friends on aubrey’s birthday night, watching as another girl practically groped paige six feet into her seat. the worst part was paige never did or said anything along the lines of ‘stop.’

you have the thought that it should definitely be you sitting next to paige right now. it could’ve been you and it should’ve been you. she may not be your girlfriend, but she is your something. you wish you could hold her hand under the table instead of having to watch the insufferable sight of another girl touching her.

“is this your natural hair? it’s really pretty.”

your eye twitched watching the scene unfold, eyes tracking the girl’s finger as it twirled around a strand of paige’s hair.

“nah, not the color. the waves are all mine though,”

paige smiles, flicking her hair over her shoulder. the girl laughs again, the high-pitched squeal ringing in your ear. the crazy thing is, nothing paige said was even funny, the reason for the girl’s laughter had flown straight over your head. if she was close enough, you think you might reach across the table and drag her to the floor.

her peppy laugh. her wandering and lingering gaze. the unnecessary touches. the-

“can i give you my number? i’d really like to hangout sometime y’know?”

you couldn’t even bear to stay for paige’s answer, excusing yourself from the table. your chair squeaked loudly against the floor, grabbing the attention of anyone who hadn’t already noticed you.

the girl turns to paige, wide-eyed, “is she okay?”

your anger boils over at her remark, wishing for both of your sakes she’d just kept quiet. it was infuriating watching her turn to paige and talk about you, right in front of your own face.

“are you serious-”

“i think she just has to use the bathroom,” paige gives you a look, one that you can only decipher as ‘no.’ “and the bathrooms are that way.”

she points you in a direction, one that you allow yourself to blindly follow. you just needed to get away from that table, too irked by that girl to think straight. you kept telling yourself that she couldn’t ruin the night, aubrey’s big night for that matter.

you’re leaning against the bathroom sink when a knock sounds on the door. it makes you jump out of your thoughts, assuming it’s just some random person needing to take a piss.

“i’ll be out in a second!”

“hey, it’s me.” you’d recognize her voice in a crowd of hundreds, something so distinct about it. you can’t deny it makes your heart flutter knowing she chased after in a sense, showing that she does in fact care.

you unlock the door for her, letting her slip through the frame before sealing it off again. she locks it for you, never even taking her eyes off of you.

“what was that?!”

she’s whisper-shouting, getting closer to you. it shocks you, not expecting that reaction from her. you wished maybe she’d acknowledge what was actually happening at that table for the last half-hour, but of course she can’t.

“seriously? are you serious?”

“yeah i’m serious. you looked like you wanted to rip her head off the whole time.”

you roll your eyes, “oh spare me please. she’s insufferable.”

you don’t even care how much attitude you’re using to rebuttal her, more concerned with the fact that she’s defending the girl. did she know what she was doing? was it all on purpose?

“she’s nice,”

“yeah i’m sure she is.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’m sure it is nice when she touches you like that.”

she blinks. once, twice, three times before speaking. she gets a smug grin on her face like it’s funny or something, watching the way your forehead creases from being downturned so long. she feels bad really, but it’s still amusing to see you like this.

“oh, that’s what this is about.”

“what- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you’re jealous.”

her hands find your waist, tugging you into her chest. after rolling your eyes into tomorrow you decide it’s not worth it to fight about it and she’s right anyway. you succumb to her affection, matching it equally when you wrap your arms around her stomach.

“can’t believe you’re jealous. it’s kinda hot.”

“whatever. tell her to stop eye-fucking you in the middle of the restaurant. it’s nasty.”

paige admires your honestly, realizing how strongly you both feel even though it’s nothing more than a situationship. she wants to ask you out but figures a restaurant family bathroom probably isn’t the best place.

“maybe i should be the one jealous. you’ve been so focused on her talking to me you didn’t realize i’ve been looking at you the whole time.”

you’re silent, head resting against her chest to hide embarrassment. the affect she has on you is insane and you both know that, a simple fact paige takes advantage of frequently. she feels your arms tighten around her and in response shifts your hips closer to her own. she never feels like you’re close enough.

she kisses the top of your head as you shift together in unison. she wishes she was brave enough to ask you out. it’s not like you’re going to say no.

as her own version of reassurance, paige pulls you into a kiss and waits until she feels you kissing back. it’s slow and sensual, both of you taking time to relish in the moment, as confusing as it may be. when you pull away, she finds solace in your body, resting her forehead against yours.

“yeah whatever. i’m going back to eat my dinner. but next time she touches you i’m flipping my shit if you don’t say something.”

“what am i supposed to say then, hm?”

“that you have a girlfriend.”

༉‧₊˚.*ೃ༄༊*·˚･ﾟﾟ･｡

here’s this short lil fic because i felt bad for depriving yall 😔

but i love you guys and hope you enjoy 🤭🤭🤭

I HAVE NOT YET SPELL CHECKED!!!

also i’m so sorry for slacking on the requests you guys (this is an older one) i’m gonna try to work on some tomorrow!! (emily content 🤭)

[01zfan]

twelve grapes | l. at

bestfriend!anton x reader | 4.5k words

this put me in an anton mood unfortunately

contains: best friends to lovers, new years eve traditions, missionary, love confessions

“it’s me.” you said to the door.

you didn’t even have to knock before the door was opened. you were greeted with a smiling anton. you smiled back, looking down at the ground for a moment.

“come in.” anton whispered, opening his door wider for you.

you walk in but anton left the door open. you saw that on his bed there was a child sleeping. it was usually like this at your joint family parties. one room would become the unofficial coatcheck and the other would be the designated room for sleeping babies. anton’s room was always the place of choice for babies to lay their heads down. he had a way with kids, they gravitated towards him and they always took a liking to his soft voice. his height was an advantage too, kids enjoyed climbing him and being on his shoulders as he walked through the house.

“one second. i’m gonna put him in the room down the hall.” anton said and he lumbered onto the bed.

you stayed in his room while anton carefully scooped the sleeping child into his arms to take them into a separate room. when he returned he closed the door behind him. you two stayed there for a moment, just looking at one another. 

everyone in your life started to notice the looks. they’d bump your shoulders while mentioning the stutter anton would have or how light and airy your voice would get. you weren’t sure if these statements had any validity. there were always comments about you and anton’s relationship. you two were kids, growing up together because your parents were close friends. you remember as a child anton’s parents jokingly saying you two have to get married so your two families would finally be related. you made a sour face and so did anton. at your age, boys were yucky and to anton, so were girls. you both decided you didn’t like each other like��that when you kissed on the playground underneath the jungle gym. it was a quick peck, you both pulling away and shaking your heads. you two were still close, becoming your own people up side by side. you both went through so much change growing up but being by the others side remained the same.

lately though, there was something in the air. maybe it was the holidays and your weariness that came with the cold weather. but the way anton would look at you recently made you bashful, always compelled to look away or brush hair behind your ear. anton turned into a charming and handsome young man right in front of your eyes. he still kept the same soft voice and kindness you had as children, something you admired. you wanted to ignore the feelings but the way he would compliment you started making you sheepish. when something looked particularly good on him you would feel hot in the face, embarrassed for no reason. you found yourself sometimes thinking back to that kiss on the playground. when you were kids you guys simply just went back to playing, never bringing it up again. if that happened now, you believe that your body would burst into flames.

seeing both your families look at you knowingly validated your feelings, but regardless it was prying. you also didn’t want the comments to get to your head or ruin what you and anton had. it was special having someone in your life understand you the way anton did. you didn’t want to lose it, which is why you were happy you and anton were away from your two families as the party went on downstairs.

without prying eyes and knowing glances, it was very comfortable. conversation with anton had always flowed easily, both of you having similar senses of humor. occasionally during a joke you would hit his solid arm lightly, or he would put his hand on your thigh. it would linger there for a second before he would pull it away. feelings you had to beat to death with a stick stirred over your skin, but you were able to continue the conversations. before you knew it you guys talked half the night away.

sometime during the night, your family went home. something about an early morning the next day. you were able to convince them to let you stay under the guise of watching the ball drop, but what you really wanted was to be with anton. 

his parents were funny about the new year. every time they would rave about staying awake to watch the ball drop, being able to ease into the new year. what actually always ended up happening was that they would be knocked out on the couch watching the new years eve show. every year, anton would take a picture of his parents sleeping into the new year.

you and anton also almost missed the new year until he checked his phone.

“wow. time is flying.” anton said. 

you looked at the time. it was ten minutes until the new year.

“did you bring the grapes?” anton asks.

you smile at the mention of your silly little tradition. even though you and anton have never been to spain, every year you found yourselves crowded underneath a table on new years eating twelve grapes. it was believed to bring you good luck and good fortune, but you were never the type to believe in that type of stuff. each year though, you had anton by your side. you think that’s good fortune on its own. so you humored him each year—you supplied the grapes and he supplied the table.

“i left them downstairs in the fridge.” you said.

anton stood up his seat on the floor and you stood up from his bed. he went towards his bedroom door and you followed.

“let’s go get them. but be quiet so we don’t wake up my parents.” anton said, putting a finger to his lips.

the new years eve television special was blaring on the speakers, so loud you could’ve ran down the stairs at full speed and it wouldn’t down out the sound of the announcers on the screen. but you and anton loved tradition, so you snuck down the stairs the same way you did as children. anton leaned against his wall comically as he snuck down and you did the same.

you held hands often as children. it was always for reason, like if the other wasn’t moving fast enough or if you were scared. so when anton grabbed your hand for no reason as you snuck downstairs you thought you would stumble down the steps. but you let your hand rest inside of anton’s as you mirrored his footsteps so the stairs wouldn’t creak.

you guys successfully retrieved the grapes and two bowls, sneaking your way back upstairs. you didn’t let go of eachother’s hands once, not until anton led you underneath a table in his room. you both struggled to fit underneath the table, laughing at anton’s attempt to make his large body compact.

“i can’t believe we’ve been doing this since we were kids.” you say wistfully.

you open up the container of grapes in between the two of you. anton takes the time to inspect each grape before dropping it into your bowl, making sure it’s one of the firm and sweet ones. anton has always done this each year, while he just grabbed the first twelve for himself, not caring what they looked like.

“so much has changed since then, hasn’t it?” anton said lightly.

“we’re still the same.” you hum, nodding your head. 

it was hard to try and seem nonchalant sitting so close next to anton. even while he was sitting underneath the table he was taller than you, his head brushing the top of the table. you were light in the head being able to smell anton, to look at him so close. have his eyelashes always been this wispy? his cheeks looked so soft you were compelled to close what little space was left between the two of you to feel his skin. but you focused on grabbing the crispy and sweet grapes with a shaky hand.

anton was happy that you were enveloped in tasting the grapes. if you were focused on other things, he would have time to calm down his heart that was beating like a bird. he couldn’t even reach for his own grapes, too scared his shaking hand would give away the confession that was on his lips. each time you looked at him he was suddenly nervous. anton was already the shy type and the way you had him only made everything worse.

you both could hear the counting on the television upstairs as you each ate a grape, saying each month of the new year between each one. anton was able to take a grape with you, having to move his hand to rest on his knee to hide the shaking. when you get to the final month, the ball drops. you can hear it downstairs and you look at anton’s digital clock above his bed to doublecheck. it’s officially another year that you have started with anton.

“happy new year.” you say, finishing the last grape.

“happy new year.” anton says back to you. 

his voice sounds far off like he’s thinking about something. his focus goes all over your face, lingering on your eyes before stopping completely looking at your lips. you scooted closer to him. you found yourself staring at his lips too. you cleared your throat to point at his bowl filled with grapes.

“anton you barely ate any of your—“

you were cut off mid sentence by anton closing the gap between your bodies. you could barely process what happened before anton gently pressed his lips to yours. your eyes fluttered shut. you could feel his soft lips, tasting sweet like fruit. as fast as he placed his lips on yours he pulled back from you. 

your eyes snapped wide open in shock trying to process what had just happened. you had a million things rushing through your mind, the overwhelming need to tell him about his plump lips rested on your lips. you were there, frozen like a statue watching the red creep across anton’s face.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. i just thought—there was this feeling i’ve had about you lately i thought it was mutual.” anton said.

the red creeped to his ears as he rambled to you. immediately you should’ve said something, quelling his worries of making a move. but you selfishly gave yourself a moment to bask in the feeling of mutual pining. you sunbathed in validation, all the fleeting looks and sudden touches made sense. you put your hand over anton’s. he stopped his rambling to look at you in the eyes.

“i like you too,” you say, smiling. “and we can talk about it later, but right now i really want you to kiss me again.”

anton goes back in to kiss you. this time he lets himself fully relax into you, and you pull him in by his sweater. he’s so close you can feel his hair resting on your forehead and his nose bumps yours every time you tilt your head to get a better angle. being with anton already doesn’t feel like the first time, finding a comfortable rhythm in the kisses. you think for a second that he knows you so well he’s completely tuned into your kisses, when you’ll tilt your head or when you need a breath of fresh air. you never want to break apart from him.

you listen to the sounds of your lips making contact fill the room. you’ve dreamed of this, having anton’s hand on your face so he can kiss you deeper. it’s not long before you let the kiss turn into something more desperate. you let your tongue come out and swipe across his lip. it’s a bold move on your end, one that anton responds to instantly. he prods his tongue into your mouth, tilting your head to feel the inside of your cheek. the kisses turn messy, you bring a hand to the nape of his neck to pull at his hair. 

anton’s other hand rests on your hip. he’s so close to your ass, you both know it. anton still has his reservations, how far you’ll let him go before he wakes up from this dream. but he is taking to paradise when you lean your body towards his, lifting your ass so he can rest his hand on there fully. he squeezes his hand into the pocket of your jeans and you moan feeling the pressure of his fingers against you.

anton was already a jumpy person. he blames it on his anxiety, always putting him in a fight or flight mode. but when you moan into the kiss he nearly leaps out of his skin. his head hits the bottom of the table with such force that the things on top of it shake. you look at him wide eyed asking if he’s okay, but anton is only focused on getting you to make that sound again. the way you look at him with large doe eyes and glossy lips has him thinking about all the time he wasted not kissing you. if anton had known how badly you wanted him he would’ve made a move a long time ago. but he doesn’t want to focus on the past. right now, you had a fully exposed neck and you two had all the time in the world.

you’re still worried about the possible brain damage anton might’ve faced when he brings his thumb to swipe across your lip.

“you’re lips are so soft.” anton whispers. “and they taste like grapes.”

before you can come close to anton again he’s leaning back into you. instead of your lips, he rests his face in the crook of your neck. he kisses the skin there repeatedly, getting sloppier and sloppier with each kiss. when he takes in your skin and sucks on it, you let out a gasp. anton uses his hand in your back pocket and his other one to guide your back to the floor. the change in position has excitement taking over. you never thought you would have anton hovering over you giving you a hickey on your skin. anton takes his hand out of your pocket and tucks his fingers underneath the waistline of your jeans. you take your hands underneath his sweater, feeling his bare body.

anton moves to the other side of your neck. you get the quickest glance at him before he retreats into the crook of your neck. his eyes are big and blown out and you lift your hips so your stomach touches his. anton’s hand supports your arch, using all of his strength to keep your bodies pressed against on another. he starts using teeth when sucking on your skin and you moan again.

“i love that sound so much.” anton says.

you moan again. hearing anton abandon his shyness so he could shamelessly flirt with you had you making sounds you didn’t know you could make. anton lets his hand hover over your shirt, resting on your chest. he moves your breast around in a circular motion. you need to be out of your clothes already, feeling anton inside of you. but patience is a virtue, so you let him feel you up like hormonal teenagers.

“so pretty. i’ve always wondered what you sounded like.” anton whispers against the skin of your neck. 

“does it sound good?” you ask.

“it’s better than what i ever could’ve imagined.”

he grips the fabric over your breast a little tighter and you arch into him. you can no longer take the teasing. you make quick work of the button and zipper on your jeans. you do the same to anton, using your hands to clumsily push his pants down. anton gets the hint, smiling before letting your back down gently. he moves beside you and you both careless take off your jeans. you stay in your underwear and anton keeps his boxers on. anton lets his eyes study your legs, how you bend them self consciously as anton looks at your panties. he’s rock hard in his pants and he needs you to know it.

anton takes your hand and places it over the growing bulge in his boxers. 

“you’re so hard.” you say.

“it’s because of you.” anton says.

his voice is still so soft as he speaks to you, sounding even more airy due to his arousal. now he’s the one gasping underneath your touch, his sweater is suddenly too hot for him. he takes it off as you wrap your hand against his shaft. you hold it firmly and anton almost bucks into your hand.

“do you have a condom?” you ask. 

you sit up, taking off your sweater too. you’re left in your bra and panties as anton springs up from underneath the table to go to his bedside table. if you two had any sense you’d move to the bed, but urgency is on the forefront of your minds. you need him right here, right now, and anton can’t wait another second.

anton grabs the tinfoil package and settles back onto the ground next to you. you both move to your side, taking the moment to bring in your nearly naked bodies. you are in that lacy bra looking like god sent you down here himself, and anton’s body has you speechless. you had seen it before growing up, but the intent now made all the difference. you bring a hand to trace from his navel to his chest then back down again. he takes your breasts in his hand, kneading your skin over the bra. he’s enthralled by the way you spill over the cup of the bra.

“i can’t believe it.” anton murmurs.

“me neither.” you say. 

you’re arching your back into his touch and you bring a hand behind you to undo the bra. instantly it loosens and anton helps you out of it. he can’t stop staring at your breats, the way your boobs sit pretty on your chest. anton reaches a hand towards them before pausing.

“can i?” he asks.

“please. i need you to touch me so bad.” you say.

your eyes are closed when anton finally touches you. he squeezes the flesh gently, before realizing you need it to be a little rougher. his actions are no longer timid when he moves to the other breast. he takes the nipple into his mouth and you let out the loudest gasp. this doesn’t stop anton, only eggs him on to suck a little harder. you tweak the nipple of the other breast with your hand, and anton only has to watch. you for a second before he’s doing the same thing. 

you help anton go back to his position on top of you. your leg ends up slotting between his and you can feel his dick poking your thigh. anton looks up at you from your chest and slowly grinds his length on your thigh. it’s thick and rests heavy on your leg. you can already feel a wet spot in his boxers where precum is seeping through. you’re sure your the same way, squirming in your panties that are becoming uncomfortable.

“anton.” you whine.

he perks up to look at you, he lets your breast fall from his mouth with a lewd pop. he wipes below his lip, where some of his spit came out.

“what’s wrong?” anton asks. he places a kiss on the nipple he didn’t suck.

“i can’t wait any longer.”

anton uses his hand to guide his dick to your entrance. you can feel the girth of its blunt head. you bring in a shaky breath. the suspense is making you antsy.

“tell me if it’s too much and i’ll pull out, okay?” anton says.

his fucked out expression is replaced with one of worry. you nod your head, moving your hands to rest on his shoulders. you try to relax, letting out the breath.

“i’m ready.”

“okay.” anton says.

he lets go of his guiding hand and brings it to yours. his grabs your hand, holding it the same way he did leading you down the stairs. anton places a kiss on your forehead and you try to kiss him back. you are too enchanted by feeling him sink into you. 

“so big.” you gasp.

“i know. can you take it?” anton asks. his voice is barely above a whisper, as he sinks further into you. 

anton means it as a genuine question, anxious that he may not fit all the way inside of you with no prep. it’s a question filled with worry, but the borderline mocking question mixed with his airy voice has you opening your legs a little wider. he’s teasing you without meaning to, and anton is a feels the way you react to his innocent question..

he is big, but your arousal makes it easier for you to take all of it. anton loses more and more of his composure the deeper he goes in. when your pelvises touch you clench around him. he lets out the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard and drops his head into the crook of your neck.

you can’t control the clenching. he presses gently against your insides, each time you clamp around him you swear you can feel every ridge and vein. it’s not long before you both are whimpering messes, feeling the euphoria of sex.

“can i move?” anton asks. 

he tries his hardest to keep his voice clear but it’s meek, weakened by ecstasy.

“yes, please.” you whimper.

anton listens, bringing himself out all the way slowly before sinking back in just as slow. being able to feel every inch of him again has you digging nails into his shoulder. anton loves the pain and he grips your hip to thrust a little harder. he kisses your forehead again and he’s captivated by the sight of your face contorting in pleasure and the way your chest jumps when he gives you harder and faster thrusts. he can’t control running off at the mouth.

“i’ve waited so long for this.” anton groans. 

“how long?” you say. 

your voice hitches in the middle of your sentence when anton hits you with a harder thrust. you both moan into eachothers mouths when he hits that spot deep inside of you.

“so long.” anton says. “you have no idea.”

he wants to tell you about the winter formal last year where that red dress complimented your skin perfectly. anton was swooning over you the whole night, having to make up excuses why he was so red in the face. he felt like someone from the middle ages, weakened by the sight of your bare shoulder. anton spent the whole night trying not to imagine taking your dress off of you, kissing all over your body.  when you danced with him he had to leave a gap between the two of you, afraid that if you got to close he’d faint. 

you had no idea about the nights anton would think about your lips, the way you talked to him and looked up to him when he was alone. his yearning had turning into something more, something he thought he’d never get.

but now here you were, naked on his floor with him on top of you. anton couldn’t believe you were here with him, clenching around his length uncontrollably while he moaned into your mouth. you leaned into his touch bending your leg to wrap around his waist. it was a alight change but the new angle had anton seeing stars.

“you feel so good.” anton said. 

it was almost like he couldn’t believe it. he was hitting you deeper and faster, his hand now leaving gripping the skin of your thigh to help support your leg.

“touch me anton.” you whimper. 

“where do you need me?” he asks.

you wordlessly grab his hand, leading it to your clit. anton gets what you need immediately, tenderly rubbing the bundle of nerves. you pull him in so close by his shoulders that his arm becomes wedged between your two bodies. anton remains constant with his motions, finding a rhythm that leaves you repeating his name breathlessly. anton increases his speed when you your words come out jumbled and in a hurry. anton understands your close, because he understands everything about you. he understands why you like the music you like, why you eat the food you eat, why you watch the movies you watch. he finds himself looking down between the two of you, your taut skin reacting to his every movement. 

“give me your hand baby.” anton says. 

his hand that was holding your thigh goes to yours. you clench it, nails digging into the back of his hand. anton goes back to s slower pace. he needs to see you come undone underneath you, he needs to draw out everything he hasn’t been able to get from you.

you don’t get the chance to tell anton you’re close. it comes slowly but it swallows your whole body. anton’s fluid thrusts prolong the feeling, and his hand on your clit intesifies everything. the knuckles on your hand turn white from the grip you have on anton. he doesn’t complain, he instead whimpers into you, smushing his cheek against yours as his thrusts start becoming staggered. your leg around his waist locks him in place as he gives you on final thrust. you feel anton throbbing in you and he gasps into the crook of your neck that he’s cumming. you continue to moan, driving both your bodies to keep going. 

there’s something to be said about the two of you cumming together without planning it. the word ‘soulmate’ and the phrase ‘i love you’ sits on both of your tongues as your chests heave from exertion. anton pulls out of you, tying the condom on his dick off before letting himself fall beside you. 

both of you two stare at the bottom of the table, trying to process what just happened. you still try catching your breath when you turn your head to see anton already looking at you. his face is flushed, red splotches across his skin and his hair is unbelievably mused. he smiles at you before leaning over and wiping away a tear you didn’t even know was there. after that brief look, both of your gazes go back to the bottom of the table.

you feel anton creep his hand into yours, slow and timid. out of the corner of your eye you see him still looking at the table, with a worried expression on his face. you grab his hand and squeeze it, letting him know you’re real and you’re right there with him. your relationship with anton will never be the same, and you like it that way.

thank yew for reading! here is my ko-fi if you wanted to support me further!

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

The Sun & The Nakshatras.

Here My Take On The Sun In Each Nakshatra. Staring with Ashvini thru Chitra!

Let me know what you think!

Ashvini Suns

Very fun light-hearted individuals when you give them a try. Have a hypnotizing presence that can go overlooked. Not for everybody and they don't try to be. Def needs a friend who fully understand them because they can be misunderstood a lot. There character plays nicely with more arrogant personalities, this is so that they can make space for their own confident nature that people typically mistake as egotistic. They know what they want and want it right then and there. Can have a tempting vibe to them. Can be promiscuous or charismatic, if they're both we might have a problem (all jokes).

Bharani Suns

Intellectuals. Have this inner knowing that somethings up. Can be gentle, carefree and fun or can be your worse nightmare. Your pick. The universe picks them as the harbringers of light. Destiny awaits them to conquer the messages aligning with the stars, and they use this gift of knowledge in the fruits of creation. Creativity is their strongest suit. They can merge religion and knowledge from outside things into some practical magic. Destined for greatness even at an early age.

Krittika Suns

Strong prominent auras. They are capable of shining a light in a room when it is time to remove what no longer works. They are fiery in nature, and are connected to the lightening that strikes within everything and everyone. The Krittikas with the sun placement deal with issues with males in society if they are a woman, if they are a male they may deal with power plays and might not like dealing with individuals to much. They can have a temper on em. When they utilize their power, they can make the world shake with just their energy alone.

Rohini Suns

Sweet like candy bar. The definition of a muse. Talented individuals. Have a liking for things that get their minds going. Super patient and can hold a conversation about anything. Philosophers who just want someone to listen to them. Rohini suns can definitely keep you on your feet with how they move. There is a intriguing energy when it comes to them. You have no idea who they truly are under the surface.

Mrigashira Suns

Mystifying with their words. Their vibration. & Their sword. Practical minds, divine creators. These are definitely people you want to get to know, and possibly understand a bit more. Their behavior comes solely from the mind but their environment is what inspires them to continue on and evolve. They have a lot of options in this life, and they try to use as much of it as they possibly can. Genuine spirits who's heart is just that of gold. However, once you cross them, it'll be hard to get to know them again.

Ardra Suns

The most useful. Can be a beacon of joy, a lover, a fighter, a friend. Someone you can truly depend on. They have issues with people who voice their opinions too much when it comes to their expression. Ardra suns have a glow to their auras that most can find pretty intriguing, but they've got to keep new company every so often due to jealousy and other tangent things becoming an issue after a while. If they aren't careful with the company they keep, they can go down to ruin. But if they commit to being true to themselves, and finding solace in their divine nature they can conquer just about anything in this lifetime.

Punarvasu Suns

Like the ocean, they're waves morph into the wisdom of the merits deep inside of their big bodies of divine magic. Their words are impeccable, their energy is soothing and magnetic. They are enraged with a guilt from past lives, family members, or things out of their control. They are mother natures favorites, and they are gifted in the worlds of writing. Journals, Poetry, Film, all the like... They are storytellers who's worlds bring us to our knees. They are angels in disguise and need a voice hear and there. Mystical in expression, Odd in one, and pretty special in another.

Pushya Suns

The muses of the water. Mothers gift to the Gods. There is a deep bond to the roots of the tree, and they give their all to bring forth this beautiful energy from within. They take knowledge very seriously, and go out there way to search for it in many regions if they would like. A natural at connecting the dots. A open minded individual who's heart is sure to keep beating for the thousands of children and people who need it most. Love is infinite, and they give their all to let you know it.

Ashlesha Suns

Seduction is their foreplay. Very magnetic. Their powers and abilities manifest in getting what they want when they need it, and can have it in the palms of their hands by tomorrow. That is because their minds are like that of the serpent. They use their minds to go after what they need by hypnotizing you as a form of conquest. You think your tantalizing them until they finally strike. You never see them coming. Can be sweet and charming, but can also strike you like a siren.

Magha Suns

A strong & deep bond with the universe. Individuals who know how to create a good power play. You can't one up these people. A very dignified, regal presence. Ancient in devotion, which means they put power displays of ancestral divination in all that are, and all that they commit themselves to. In this heaven that they live in, they must commit to the soul in so many ways. So that they can move higher into devotion to source, their creator. It is so deep, that they will push many mountains just to receive the divine insight of the ancestors, so that they can build castles & creations for the like-minded. Powerful energies connect them to higher planes.

Purva Phalguni Suns

The kings & queens of diamonds and rings. Luxuries and all things that glitter. This venus nakshatra has is AAALLLLL. and they know it too! Natural born creators whose soul purpose was to make art, be noticed and be heard! Can be well known for their looks, their attraction, their mystery, and their artistry. Can be animated, fun, loving, sensual creatures. Definitely keep your eyes peeled for em, their devoted to themselves like the gods & goddesses that they are! Playful spirits with an easy going energy. High maintenance personality.

Uttara Phalguni Suns

Devoted to the ancestral knowledge of creation. Very deep bonds with people that they truly care about. Can have the whole entire universe if that is what they claim. Can have books full of knowledge inside of them, go on, ask them anything! Star power is infinite, and they shine the brightest when they do what works. Their energy is enchanting, oozing with delight. Carefree, bright, and intriguing souls who's very purpose is to shed light on the things that matters most. They are loving, divine creatures who captivate you with just their very essence.

Hasta Suns

Temptress energy. Devoted to themselves & God. The original muse. They can keep the world talking about them, thats just their nature. No, they aren't the gossipy type. Just the one to really get things going when they have something in mind they want to manifest. Speaking of manifesting, they are impeccable with attracting things to them. Their known to have magical hands, after all ;)

Chitra Suns

Known to be the bright one, their energy is polarizing to say the least. They have a unique beauty to them. Something that no one could compare it to. Their energy is a one of one. Magnificent beings who came to let the world know that they exist. Like a goddess, they deserve offerings. Their energy is the prize and they know this too! Highly intellectual but you just don't know it yet. The definition of a bad b! On everyone's mood boards too! Can have what they want with just a blink of an eye, because their faces are just that damn good looking. ;)

This is pt.1 on my astro observations on the sun signs in these nakshatras. will post the others soon!

[fanaticsnail]

SNAILLL!DROP ANOTHER KILLER or /KID FIC! AND MY LIFE IS URS🙏

honestly love all ur work💛🙈

But why can't we have both?

Acid, Salt, Fat and Heat

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,600+

Synopsis: Your captain has engaged with a petulant challenge that included refusing to make port until both Kid and Law did first. Feeling pent up at sea, you set your sights on the blonde first mate to aid you in finding relief. The catch? He won't unless his captain does too.

Warnings: Eustass Kid x afab!reader x Massacre Soldier Killer, MDNI, 18+, smut, NSFW, throuple, with little plot, double penetration (same hole), facial (reader receiving), eating from the back (reader receiving), cock sucking, poor puns, poor jokes, vibrator play, swearing, pet names (little one, little thing, kitten, Straw-Hat, buttercup, sunshine), messy eating, masked sex, fingering, finger sucking, inappropriate use of devil fruit, size difference (average afab 163cms, Kid & Killer 200cms), praise, cervix touching, Killer has a shrill laugh, overstimulation, aftercare, creampie, squirting.

Notes: the smuttiest smut I have written on main. Shout out to the OC discord chat and @thenotsofantasticlifestory for their input! Love you guys 🖤

“You sure you can handle it, kitten?” Eustass Kid purred at you, reaching his right arm up to flick at your chin. His purple-hued fingernails colliding with your skin caused shivers to shoot down your spine and ignite your senses with anticipation.

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you nodded your head slowly with your lips parted. He hummed down at you, his close-lipped smile splitting up his cheeks and his eyes narrowing to assess you further. Leaning down to a lower stoop, he hovered his painted lips above yours. The heat of his breath tingled against your skin, your body moving against its will to draw ever closer to the man in front of you.

As you drew yourself closer, the two arms of the man behind you clapped over your upper arms and tugged you flush into his chest. A soft gasp fled your lips, head tilting back and glancing up at the base of the blue and teal mask above your vision. Gulping back a soft mouthful of saliva, you began to double back on your prior over eagerness to engage with not one, but two, very eager playmates.

It had been a while since the Victoria Punk had docked at port, the entire crew feeling exceptionally pent up and in need to release their energy. Engaging in trysts amongst the crew was not unheard of, but it was uncommon. Ruining camaraderie and rapport was the main reason for the lack of entanglements, and Eustass Kid did not want to lose any more of his crew to their own broken heartedness.

Similarly to you, the crew of the Thousand Sunny were not helpful with catering to your needs. Luffy refused to make port due to the fact that both Kid and Law had yet to dock the Tang and the Punk. He was not going to lose to them, no matter how much you were in desperate need of relief.

When the three ships had brushed their hulls together, ropes thrown over the sides and knots tugged firmly to pull them flush against one another, you were bursting at the seams to at least talk to someone who was not a member of your crew. Shachi and Penguin were always a delight, and you couldn't get enough of their chaos.

However, when the blonde first mate of the Kid Pirates stepped over the barricade of the Thousand Sunny with a large pot of pasta, you were just about ready to spread your legs and have him take you on the dining table. Sanji was an excellent cook, but there was something about the blonde’s pasta that made you weak in the knees.

You had never engaged intimately with any member of the other two crews before, but the neediness pooling and soaking your underwear at the first bite of penne encouraged you to be a little bolder in your intentions. Killer was your first target to attempt to woo your way into his pants, but in doing so, it only attracted the magnetic presence of Eustass “Captain” Kid in the process.

“Fucking hell, Massacre Soldier!” you moaned, chewing back on the aldente texture of the cylindrical tubes, “Whoever said sex was the best thing invented hasn't tried this fucking pasta!”

That earned you a shrill giggle from the larger man, alongside a barked laugh from his captain a little further away. You beamed at the redhead, scrunching your nose playfully at him before the blonde recalled your attention.

“If you think my pasta is good,” the larger blonde huffed down at you, leaning closer to your ear, “You should see what else I can do with just a few ingredients.” You giggled at his comment, genuinely enjoying his comradery beside you.

“Oh yeah?” you arch your brows up at him, gently leaning in closer and brushing your thigh against the outside of his, “Tell me, big guy, what ingredients can you see yourself toying with here?” Killer twitched his head to the side, not expecting this kind of sultriness from a Straw-Hat.

Turning on the wooden pew beside you, he cupped the back of your thigh with his larger hand and gave your flesh a gentle squeeze. He gave you a little pause to test how far he was allowed to pursue you, which you would've appreciated in any other encounter. You were simply too pent up to care, arching your back and sucking your lips into your mouth to still the spread of your smile.

“See, I'm easy,” he hums down at you, “Every good recipe has four main ingredients: acid, salt, fat, and heat.” You nod along to his explanation, your brows knitting together as his fingers brush up and down your thigh before clasping around your hip. Holding your bone firmly, he tugs you towards him and engulfs your form with his larger chest.

“You think you can take my fat cock, little one?” he hushed down at you, causing your fluster to rise higher in your face. He hummed at your reaction, bringing his other hand up to capture your chin, “See, now there's the heat. You're practically radiating with it. I bet your pussy would be just as warm.” His thumb caressed the ball on your hip.

“A-And the acid and salt?” You managed to stutter, prompting Killer to raise his hand on your chin to cup your cheek.

“I think we both know about the salt,” he cooed at you, “What I wouldn't give to pump you full of my load. I could fill you up, or use it like a glaze over your perfect skin.” Your eyes widened and your body moved closer to his against its will.

Your underwear was sticking to your pussy with how wet his words made you. Pressing your thighs together for some relief, you could barely tear your eyes away from his mask for a single moment.

“The acid is where it gets a little tricky,” he traces his hand over your cheek and down your jaw once more. He gently pushed your face away from his and drew your attention towards the redheaded captain of the Victoria Punk.

“My Cap’n gets bitter and sour if he's left out of the mix.”

The amber eyes of Eustass Kid looked dangerously over your form from across the deck. Every part of him was solid and tense, the pure lust and jealousy radiating on him like a beacon illuminating complete darkness.

“You reckon you've got a way we can both fit, little one?” he whispered into your ear, the cool puff of air tickling your ear. You shudder, closing your eyes and giving into your desires with a soft moan.

“With the right chef doing the prep work,” you whimper, “I can think of several ways I can fit the both of you, big guy.”

“That's a good little thing,” he complimented you, the smile tangibly felt in his tone, “I'll make sure you're prepped for both of us. Once we're all done with our actual food, go and give him a kiss for me, would you?”

Not tearing your eyes away from Eustass Kid, you nod dumbly and slowly. Kid is taken aback by your action: cocking his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. Darting his attention between you and Killer, he finally has the thought bloom in his mind and shoot straight to his cock.

He was going to fuck his little Straw Hat with his first mate.

And that is where you found yourself, wedged between two broad chests and grabby hands in the captain's quarters aboard the Victoria Punk. The red tint of Eustass Kid's lips finally collided with your mouth as he pressed himself against you. Desperation and neediness arose in you all, Kid's arm snaking around your shoulder prompted Killer to bring his hands down to the front of your pants.

As Kid’s tongue entered your mouth, Killer dipped his fingers beneath your waistline and immediately slipped his fingers between your glossy folds. You whimper into the mouth of Kid, prompting him to chuckle and consume your moans with more fervor. Growling into your lips, he tugged you closer to him while tilting his pointed chin up to get a better angle.

While tugged closer to Kid, Killer's fingers ground themselves against your clit in small circles. The pads of his large fingertips rocked against your hooded pearl and caused your slit to gush out a fresh wave of arousal. You parted your lips to mewl into Kid's mouth, which caused his teeth to seek out and bully your lower lips with soft nips.

“Fuck, our little one is so wet, Cap’n,” Killer gasped behind you, “I think I can make them cum just like this-...” He increased his speed, flickering your sensitive nerves with each different motion. Kid pulled his lips away from yours, a string of saliva attaching to both his and your lips with the soft tint of red paint lingering within.

“You gonna cum, kitten? You want the big guy to make you cum on his hand?” Kid goaded you, prompting you to pout at him. He removed his hand from your shoulder and pinched your chin in his thumb and index finger.

“Look at me while he makes you cum,” he ordered you, looking down his nose at you as your body continued to be worked at by Killer behind you. As much as you wanted to hold back from submitting to his request, one more swipe at your clit had your pussy contracting and fluttering with the overwhelming bliss of your orgasm.

“F-Fuck,” you stuttered, holding your eyes against Kid's as Killer continued to usher you through ecstasy. Slouching your back against Killer, you keened into his neck as he held you firmly against his chest. His forearm rocked against your chest, prompting you to buck your hips into his hands.

“There you go, little one,” Killer cooed down at you, slowing down his rocking to a steady pause. Running his fingers through your oversensitive folds causes you to shudder and mewl at the sensation. Withdrawing his hand up in front of you, he scissors the glistening slick on his fingertips.

“Fuck, look at that,” Kid gasped, his former abrasive attitude melting away as soon as he saw your essence, “Give us a taste, would you?” Killer offered Kid his hands, Kid making eye contact with you as he parted his lips and swirls his tongue over Killer’s fingers.

Humming, he immediately closes his eyes and cleans Killer’s fingers with his lips and tongue. Killer huffs out a sigh, bucking his hips and grinding his clothed cock against your ass, his neediness growing the longer he holds off from sinking himself into you. Kid pulled his lips off Killer’s fingers with a soundly ‘pop’ before looking up into your face once more.

“You need to get prepped before you take the both of us, kitten. All fours for me, would you?” Kid ushered you over to his large bed, the duvet astray and pillows askew, “Pants off, sunshine. Lemme see it all.” Killer whimpered at your absence, his cock aching and twitching beneath his pants.

The three of you were all as needy as one another, your pussy already dripping with desire thanks to Killer's earlier words, and coaxing an orgasm from you by just rubbing your clit alone. Your pants and shirt were cast aside hurriedly, your chest now exposed and nipples peaked within the cool air. Hooking your fingers into the hips of your underwear, you began pulling them over your ass slowly. The groin of the material stuck to you, the dark patch of arousal from your core painted the center and dampened the fabric.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” Kid stuttered out, his voice breathy and body immediately sauntering over to you with desperation in his footing, “Where do you want, Kil? You want our little Straw-Hat’s pussy, mouth, or ass?” You could barely register any words, arching your back and planting your head onto Kid’s mattress as they discussed what to do with you.

“Wherever you don't want, Cap’n,” he whispered huskily, his eyes hungrily consuming your body with his pointed gaze, “Fuck, that ass does look good, though.” Kid laughed at his oldest friend, clapping his right hand over his right shoulder while pressing a curt kiss against his right.

“Go put their head in your lap, hm?” Kid directed his first mate, “Hear that, kitten? You're gonna suck Killer's cock and treat him right.” You begin to raise your head off the bed, halting when you felt a metal casing cage around your stomach and hold you flush against the mattress. The ringing of belts and dropping of heavy materials on the floor indicated your two bed guests had shed themselves of their clothes.

Kid's metal hand elevated you effortlessly, your face growing more flustered as you felt him pant against your pussy from behind. Killer crawled into the bed, your hands hastily drawing his large thighs closer to you. Nestling your head between his thighs, your eyes drank in the pretty cock bobbing in front of you. Without any further word or direction, your smaller hands wrapped around his large cock and your lips found his inner thigh.

Chasing a trail of kisses over his inner legs, you ground your palm against his cock before pumping his shaft. Killer panted, his cock involuntarily twitching and bobbing with every subtle change you made. Drawing yourself up onto your forearms, you lulled your tongue outside your lips and licked a heavy stripe along the underside of his cock. Following the bulbous vein up his shaft, you flickered your tongue over his blunt tip and collected the first few drops of precum onto your palate.

As soon as you parted your lips to take his knob into your mouth, you cried out as you felt your folds part by Eustass Kid’s large, red tongue. Your eagerness to take Killer’s cock into your mouth multiplied tenfold, using him as a tool to ground yourself to the earth while the motion of Kid's tongue had you ascending. Flicking and bobbing his head, Kid mouthed at you, rolling your sensitive clit over his tongue and sucking briefly on whatever took his fancy.

You had never engaged with anyone so eager to please you with their mouth, feeling yourself truly unable to hold back the rocking of your hips into his face as you began to take Killer's cock into your mouth. Filling your lips with Killer's fat tip, you whimpered and keened around it as Kid rocked your body against his face with his cool metal arm.

“Fuck, little one,” Killer gasped for you, his hand falling down to cradle your scalp and coax you to bob against him, “You feel so good. How you doing back there, Cap'n?” All Kid could find in his coherence was a groan at the back of his throat, too drunk on your essence to give either of you an answer.

Taking what you could of Killer's cock in your mouth, you pumped the remainder of the base with one hand, while the other caressed his balls.

“Hhah-... F-fuck-... I-I-...” Killer threw his head back, bucking his hips up to fill more of your mouth with his fat cock, “...-I don't know how long I'll last like this. Fuck, little one. Who taught you how to suck cock like that?” You attempted to giggle at him, only halting as you felt Eustass Kid pull away from your pussy to spit on it. You whimpered, feeling his lips dive back in and flicker over your clit.

You had half a mind to talk to Killer and tease him, but Kid’s skilled lips and tongue had your mind foggy and clouded by each fell swipe. The coil in your abdomen began to stir and tighten to a tense pinnacle, just as Killer felt his balls twitch and draw up into his stomach. Kid’s tongue pressed against your entrance, lapping messily and greedily into your slit while humming and moaning at the taste of your arousal.

“Nghhm-... F-Fuck! Stop- I'm gonna c-cum!” Killer attempted to warn you, already past the point of halting his eruption while desperately trying not to cum in your mouth. Tugging at your scalp to halt you, you managed to shake your head and bob it faster over his shaft. “No, no, no, no, no-...” He stuttered, finally getting a foothold on your head and hastily tugging you away from his cock.

Just as your lips left his knob, you couldn't help but desperately pump his shaft as Kid has you unravel on his tongue. The coil in your stomach snapped and your walls spasmed around his tongue with the first waves of your orgasm. Massacre Soldier Killer held the back of your head in a firm cradle, his cock twitching as you pumped him. Your thumb flicked over his tip, which switched the final channel of lust in Killer's stomach and had him cry out for you.

His cum shot out and immediately splashed over your forehead, cheek, and chin in thick ropes. The milky-colored seed littered your skin in hot splashes, immediately causing you to cum harder against Kid’s face and tongue.

“Shit!” Killer cursed at the sight laid out before him. His captain's face buried deep within your thighs, lapping greedily and messily at your walls while he coated your face in his thick cum. Each splash from Killer seemed to propel you to cry out and cum harder against Kid's face, truly basking in the fact he couldn't contain himself or force himself back from that edge.

Both riding your highs down, Kid gave your clit a quick kiss before bringing himself up to the sight above him. Killer's chest rose and fell in a thick pant, his cock still proudly standing as it dribbled with the soft aftershocks of his release. Your face was riding the blissful waves of a soft afterglow directly after contorting in ecstasy. Lips parted, eyes closed, and face completely covered in several waves of Killer’s heavy load.

“Fuck, big guy,” Kid chuckled at his first mate, “There’s so much.” Kid gives your ass a gentle slap as he crawls up to hover over your back. “So messy, kitten,” he commented on your face, “Hand us a tissue would you, Kil?”

“I-... I got it…” Killer panted, reaching to the bedside table to the right of him. Tearing four leaves in hasty consecutive motions, he drew the material to your face and began dabbing at the cum while Kid rubbed his hand along your back and traced every dip and crevace along your spine.

Several fragments of the tissue paper stuck to your face, prompting you to giggle up at the big guy as he cleaned you.

“Sorry about that, little one. I tried to warn you it was gonna happen,” he spoke in a low and warm tone, “What would you have preferred, me cumming in that beautiful mouth of yours?”

“I would prefer it if you came in my pussy, honestly,” you admit with a shrug, causing Kid to let out a sound between a growl and a whimper. Kid gave you a final dab of the cheeks before giving your nose a gentle, affectionate tap.

“You'll still get some in your pussy if you want it,” Killer cooed at you, turning you to face Kid as he knelt back. His red lip paint spilt over his lipline, the juices of your release glistening against his chin and nose. Smirking up at him, you barely had the opportunity to raise your hand before he pounced on you.

Pushing your back flush against Killer’s chest, Kid rose your hips and sat you on Killer’s Adonis belt above his deflating cock. Eustass Kid’s angry cock twitched it's shaft as he caged both you and Killer beneath his looming form.

“Feeling adequately prepped for me, kitten?” Kid purred down at you, playfully nudging your chin with his forehead to push your head back to lull into Killer’s shoulder, “Or should I fuck you with my metal hand to stretch you a bit?”

“I can take your cock, Captain,” you scoff, attempting to look down at his steely shaft, only for him to push you back down into Killer’s shoulder once more.

“You say that now,” Kid cackled at you, rubbing his tip against your folds before placing the tip at your entrance, “...but once I sink in a little-.” He rocked his hips forward a little,

“-Ah, fuck!” you cry out at the stretch, prompting him to immediately pull his cock head away from your entrance. Killer wrapped his hands around your waist, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. Kid and Killer both share a glance with one another, communicating wordlessly before Kid placed his tip at your entrance one more time.

As he slowly pressed his mushroomed knob into your needy cunt, Killer reached his hands down to pry your folds apart with the heels of each palm, seeking out your clit and gently caressing it with his thumbs. Immediately your body relaxes and your hips rock against each roll of his digits in your clit. Kid sunk himself down further, eyes not leaving your face as he watches intently for any discomfort.

“There you go, little one,” Killer praised you, enjoying the feeling of your ass rocking against his Adonis belt, “Taking the Cap'n so well. Good job, just a little more.” Kid fought back the urge to slam his hips forward and immediately sheathe himself in your gummy walls. Using each fiber of his being to not give in to the temptation, he inched himself slowly into your needy core.

“You're doing well too, Cap'n,” Killer hummed up at the redhead, “Being gentle with our little Straw Hat, while I know you want to give in.” Kid whimpered, pressing his goggle-adorned forehead against your chest to hide his fluster. Gently rocking forward, your back bowed as you finally felt him press up to the hilt.

Giving a testy buck of his hips, Killer ensured both you and Kid felt secure enough while still gently rubbing circles against your clit. Kid felt your walls flutter and adjust to his size.

“Nggh-... Fuck…” Kid whispered against your flushed skin, pressing a soft kiss against the bone in the center of your chest. “...why haven't we done this sooner again?” He chuckled into your chest, rolling his head up and resting his chin at the center.

“Because we haven't been desperate enough to try?” you offered him with an arched brow. He huffed aggitatedly, rolling his hips against yours and testing the stretch. Killer braced you against him, holding you completely against his broad chest and taught stomach muscles.

“Fuck,” you keen for Kid, feeling the way each rake of his cock inside you molded you to the shape of him, “That, and I didn't think you were interested in fucking a Straw Hat.”

Kid stopped his movements, sheathing himself to the hilt within your pussy and turning your chin with his flesh hand. Your eyes met his through fluttered lids, examining his expression with curiousity. He drew his face towards yours, all prior cockiness melting away and a stern seriousness left in its stead.

“We don't want to fuck a Straw Hat,” he uttered, his lips almost brushing with yours, “We want to fuck our Straw Hat.” You only had a moment to react to the admission before Kid started properly rocking his hips into you. No more timidity, no more subtlty, all of Eustass Kid’s hulking form finally giving in to his feral urges now that you had fully adjusted to his size.

“Our little Straw Hat,” he growled into your skin, pressing his lips to your neck and mouthing at the skin, “Our spicy little kitten,” he chuckled into you, cementing and punctuating his exclaim with a crude slap of his hips meeting your pelvis. Killer let out a squeak of laughter at that comment, to which you would've laughed along with him if Eustass Kid wasn't slapping his balls against your unexplored ass hole with each heavy, deep thrust.

Killer hummed down at you, removing his hand from between you both in favour of hooking his legs beneath your thighs and raising them to your chest. Kid rose his right leg, trapping Killer’s leg beneath him and changing the angle of each stroke. You mewled out, gasping for air as Killer exposed more of your pussy for Kid to drive into. Killer never took his eyes off you, insuring you were enjoying the feeling of how deep Kid burried himself into you with each buck and rock.

As you adjusted to the depth of his deep rocking, Kid hooked his other leg over Killer's, crouching in a deep lunge. His motions were now so deep, you felt your air being pushed from your throat, and his bulge deep in your abdomen. Kid's lips parted, huffing and panting with his eyes scrunched tightly shut. The crude, squelching ‘plap,’ of his balls slapping against your overstimulated pussy was enough for Killer’s cock to twitch back to life, his own empathetic waves of pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach.

Your lips parted, brows raising to a peak at the center of your face as you felt Kid finally hit your g-spot with each crude hook of his blunt tip. Your collective moans grew louder, all carelessly flinging them from your chests as you raised your hand up to cup at Kid’s neck.

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum! F-F-Fuck- I'm cumming,” Kid cried out, his cock twitching and motions drawing into a manic pace. You barely had any chance to catch up to him, feeling far too overwhelmed by the depth of his cock to properly contract around him. Hot waves of his thick release blew out of his small slit and splashed back against your cervix. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he changed with each languid thrust, falling into his knees and continuing to rock into you. You moaned with him, feeling his release coat your walls with each motion.

Killer couldn't stop what happened next, his body reacted of his own accord. As Kid pulled out, Killer’s fully erect cock danced at your entrance. Kid looked down at Killer's cock brushing against his knob and smirked at him.

“You reckon you can handle both now?” Kid asked with a chuckle in his tone. You were simply too out of it and desperate for your third release that you nodded without any afterthought. Kid reached down and pressed his cock against Killer's, Killer moaning at the immediate attention.

Squeezing his still drooling cock with his first mate's, Kid placed both tips at your slit. Using his prior release as lubrication, Kid rocked both Killer's and his own shiny tips into your slit. You have a soft whine at the stretch, but immediately nodded while bracing Kid's body against yourself. Kid moaned into one shoulder, while Killer hissed in the other. Both cocks slowly stretched your walls, the soft sting of your body accommodating them aided with your’s and Kid's prior release.

Only making it halfway into your pussy, Killer began to set a lazy pace inside you, brushing his frenulum against Kid’s and gasping at the feeling. You felt the most full you had ever been, sandwiched between two walls of flesh on a foreign ship, and taking two cocks deep into your pussy.

Kid pulled his head away from your shoulder to check in with you, sensing any discomfort from you by darting his eyes all over your face. He tilted his head at you, a small thought crossing his mind and causing him to chuckle.

“Mind if I try something, kitten?” he whispered in your ear, giving your skin a soft kiss after you shake your head in response.

“We're already trying a lot of new things for me,” you attempted to laugh along with your confession, huffing out while Killer rocks his cock deep inside you. Kid grins broadly, raising his hand and activating his devil fruit ability. Soaring through the air were six, small, egg-shaped objects no bigger than your thumb.

“This is gonna be new for all of us,” Kid nodded nonchalantly, his cock already twitching with interest while half-sheathed within you. You felt each rock of Killer’s hips press Kid’s knob against your g-spot, causing your walls to flutter and constrict both of them deep within you. Just as you felt yourself build up to your third climax, two of the objects attached themselves to your clit and vibrated them with a hard intensity. Two more were placed on each of the two men's balls as they buried their cocks in syncopated rhythm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” you screamed, your pussy immediately releasing a gush of fluid directly splashing against Kid’s pelvis and Killer’s thighs. Kid gasped in surprise, groaning against the feeling of your walls fluttering against his and Killer’s cocks.

“We've got ourselves a squirter!” Kid laughed, immediately rocking with more intension, craving more immediately. “Hear that, big guy? A squirter!”

Killer was completely lost, his mind foggy and need for release causing him to whimper and whine out soft squeaks. Kid barked a soft string of laughter, riding your pussy through the waves of absolute overstimulation, increasing the intensity of the vibrating bulbs on your clit and his and Killer's balls.

“One more, one more, one more,” Kid desperately chanted, feeling his own release propel forward at the knowledge he can make you cum hard enough to splash him with it. Killer gripped your thighs harder, bucking up into your pussy with a desperation he had not felt prior. You were experiencing an outer body encounter, your body flooded with pleasure. Still riding through the waves of your prior release, you felt another creep up onto you.

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum, kitten?” Kid asked, his balls slapping against Killer's as they both thrust up into you, “You gonna squirt on our cocks again? C'mon little one. You've got more for me. Just one more. I'll cum with you, baby. You want that?” You nodded dumbly, feeling your body becoming as pliant as a marionette dancing on Kid and Killer's strings.

Kid increased the intensity of the vibrations one last time, prompting Killer to roar into your shoulder immediately. Hot spurts of his release splashed up and swirled against Kid’s former waves. The chain reaction of Killer’s release caused both you and Kid to cum alongside him. As Kid shot up into you, you released another gush of fluid over Killer’s thighs with enough power to splash against Kid’s stomach and trickle down his balls.

“Just like that, just like that,” Kid praised you, manicly rocking into you with each spurt of his cum dancing with the three fluids.

“Fu-ck!” you keened, crying tears of pleasure down your cheeks at the impact of your fourth release. Kid and Killer's movements stilled, opting to pull out of you and roll you onto your side. Killer tucked himself behind you, resting his covered forehead against your shoulder blade while Kid immediately sprung up and removed the vibrating bulbs from your bodies with a flick of his wrist.

Although he was wonky on his feet, he stumbled to the bathroom and dazedly turned the taps on for his large bathtub to fill with waters and bathing oils. Bracing himself against the side of the tub with his metal hand, he snuck a look over his shoulder at the two of you panting and catching your breaths at the intensity of your climax. Chuckling to himself, he set to work on taking care of his first mate and his little Straw Hat.

Filling a large decanter full of water, he managed to only locate two mugs, and three shot glasses in his bedroom that seemed to match. Opting for the matching set, he cleaned them in the sink and set them aside to dry. As soon as the tub filled with enough water, he turned off the tap and dipped his fingers in it to test the temperature. Nodding and feeling rather proud of himself, Kid returned to his bed and noticed the two of you had finally caught your breath and were almost asleep.

“Nope, none of that,” Kid warned you, rousing you from your almost slumber with a pout on your lips, “Gotta clean you up, buttercup. We stretched you pretty good just now, don't want you to regret it more than you already probably will.” You scoff at him, slowly drawing yourself away from the man behind you by wriggling on the mattress.

“I don't think I'm gonna regret being sandwiched between two legendary pirates, Captain,” you hummed at him, your legs feeling as stable as a plate of jelly in an earthquake. As you stumbled forward, Kid chuckled at you and caught you in his arms.

“You might not,” he shrugged, hoisting you into his arms and carrying you to his bathroom, “But your pussy might feel a little raw after a while. Lemme take care of you for a bit, alright?” Killer hummed from behind you both, rolling onto his stomach and rocking back onto his knees.

“M’coming too, Cap'n,” Killer nodded, springing to his feet and walking beside the two of you, “You reckon we can all fit in there?” All of you look down at the triangular spa and tilt your heads to the side. You giggle, looking to the mask-wearing first mate and shoot him a winning smile.

“I can think of several ways to make us all fit in there, big guy,” you hum affectionately at him with half-hooded lashes. He shakes his head, giving your chin a soft pinch, and beginning to ready the three of you by finding towels and wash clothes to dote on the both of you.

Filling up the three short glasses with cool water, Killer passed them two both you and Kid sitting beside him in the scented water. All relaxing in comfortable silence while enjoying one another's bare skin, you all finally felt the tension wash away and recline into one another. Finally finding a small semblance of peace between ports, you had never felt more content than you were with your two allied crewmen.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[rafestify]

Self Control — Rafe Cameron

rafe cameron x reader

Summary : Pogue!Reader who's known as a very calm and sweet human being, suddenly snaps and Rafe gets turned on.

Warnings : 18+, No smut, just a few cursing :D (english is not my first language, i'm sorry)

Kooks parties were never better than classic Pogues parties, or at least that's what I've always thought. There was always something about Pogue parties, filled with cheap beers, loud music, and people who didn’t care about what you wore or how much money you had. It was freeing. In contrast, Kooks parties felt suffocating—people showed up just to flex about their parents' money and gulp down overpriced drinks they couldn’t even pronounce.

But here I am, walking hand-in-hand with my boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, the "Kook King", to yet another one of these Kooks parties. I can’t help but notice the irony of it all. I’m wearing a dress that costs more than I’d normally spend in six months, and even though it looks amazing, it feels strange—like I’m playing a role in someone else’s world. It clings to my body in all the right places, but it’s not me. Everything about being with Rafe is like that—expensive, luxurious, and completely foreign to the life I’ve known. Growing up as a Pogue meant thrift store finds, hand-me-downs, and making the most out of whatever little you had. Rafe’s world is the opposite. His life is silver spoons and luxury yachts, and sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning in it.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," I said, looking up at him, smiling. His hand let go of mine as I made my way through the crowd, the same familiar feeling of being out of place washing over me. The looks I got from his friends, from the Kooks, remained the same—confusion and disgust. To them, I’ll always be that Pogue who somehow ended up in their circle. Rafe could have anyone he wanted—he’s wealthy, hot, and smart, the complete Kook package. Yet, here he is with me, someone from the other side of the island, where kids grow up on fishing boats instead of private yachts.

I grabbed a drink from the bar—something fancy I couldn’t even name and took a small sip. It was bitter, too strong for my liking, but I didn’t care. I just wanted something to dull the awkwardness I felt. As I turned back, I saw Rafe talking with his friends, laughing at some inside joke I wasn’t a part of. I debated whether to go back and stand by his side or just blend into the background like I usually did at these events. I didn’t want to ruin his fun by being the odd one out, so I wandered away, trying to make myself busy.

Then I heard it.

"She's not my girlfriend, okay? She's a fucking Pogue, dude. A Pogue like her doesn’t get to live under the same roof as me."

I instantly froze. My heart dropped into my stomach. Was he really talking about me? My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I had just heard. I must have misunderstood, right? But there was no mistaking the venom in his voice. My nose flared as anger and hurt collided inside me, pushing me to the edge. I turned on my heel and stormed through the crowd, my eyes searching desperately for the exit. I needed to get out of here before I exploded. The crowd felt suffocating, their laughter and clinking glasses a cruel mockery of the turmoil brewing inside me. But before I could reach the door, a strong hand wrapped around my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. I spun around, my eyes locking onto his icy blue ones, the ones I used to find myself getting lost in, the ones that now only fueled my rage.

"Where the hell are you going, baby?" he asked, his voice dripping with confusion, like he didn’t understand why I was running away.

I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him properly. My gaze dropped to the floor, my fists clenched at my sides. "Let go of me, Rafe," I said, my voice filled barely-contained anger.

He furrowed his brows, clearly confused. "What's wrong with you?" There was an edge of annoyance in his tone, like I was the one being unreasonable. I snapped. "What’s wrong with me?" He blinked, his face still a mask of confusion. He genuinely didn’t seem to get it. "Y/N, I don’t—"

"Cut the bullshit, Rafe! Don’t act like you don’t know what you said back there with your friends because I heard it all." My voice rose, shaking with the betrayal that gripped me.

The realization finally hit him. I could see it in the way his expression shifted, from confusion to guilt. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his when he was caught off guard.

"Hey, hey… listen to me—"

"No, I don’t want to hear it," I shot back, stepping away from him. "You can take your lame excuses and shove them. Go chase after some other girl." I turned to walk away again, but his voice stopped me cold.

"Do you not remember when we promised to keep our relationship secret?" he said, his voice rising in frustration. "That’s exactly what I was doing!" I froze, his words swirling in my head. I turned back slowly, glaring at him. "It doesn’t work like that, you idiot! You made it sound like I’m just your fucking toy, someone you can dump whenever you feel like it!" My voice was shaking now, the hurt bleeding into every word.

"God, you’re such a pussy, Rafe," I said with a bitter laugh. "Saying stupid shit about your girlfriend behind her back."

He bit his bottom lip, clearly struggling with what to say. For a moment, we just stood there, the tension between us thick enough to cut through. Then, in the most Rafe way possible, he leaned in, his hand gripping my neck as he pulled me into a kiss. "Jesus, you’re so hot," he muttered against my lips, kissing me hard and fast, like he could erase everything with that one gesture. I pushed him away, still furious. "Rafe—" He cut me off, his voice softening, "Save it for later, baby. Let me make it up to you."

I wanted to slap him. I wanted to scream at him and walk out of that party for good. But his hands were on my waist, pulling me closer, his lips finding mine again in a way that made my anger start to blur into something else.

The frustrating part was that he knew exactly what he was doing.

likes & reblogs are appreciated! 🎀( ﾟ∀ﾟ)人(ﾟ∀ﾟ )

[prongsiepotter]

down bad | j. potter

summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it

a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x

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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.

"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.

"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."

You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.

Even if that guy is James Potter.

James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.

Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.

"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.

He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.

He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.

She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.

You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.

You almost let out a sob.

A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?

History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.

You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.

Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.

Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.

Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.

Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.

You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.

That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.

Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.

James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.

It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.

He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.

James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.

You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.

You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.

"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.

"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.

"I will always need you, Y/N."

Somehow he makes it sound genuine.

Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.

Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.

Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?

James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.

You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.

It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.

And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.

[peachsukii]

listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.

i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you

fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.

all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february

you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.

occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.

"sure rained like hell yesterday."

"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"

"god, it's too fucking hot today."

"that dress looks nice on ya."

one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.

he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"

bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.

"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."

caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."

"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."

he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."

"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.

"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."

bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.

"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."

"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.

he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."

i love you...it's ruining my life.

"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."

"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."

that makes your heart skip a beat.

"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."

"me too."

right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.

"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.

"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."

"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."

she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.

"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."

and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.

"oh yeah, she hates me."

bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."

the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.

you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.

blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake (2)

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking (is that a thing?), sexual themes (talk about), misogynism

A/N: Another drabble.

Cabin at the lake (1)

Cabin at the lake masterlist

While you are still fuming, Soldier Boy cocks his head and yawns loudly. If you didn’t mishear, he farted in your company too. Well, at least you’re outside; the fresh air will help you.

“Didn’t you forget something, sweetness?” Soldier Boy blinks his eyes open to look at you with these piercing green eyes.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. If he hijacks your vacation, he can eat shit. You won’t follow his orders within the next fourteen days. “I guess you forgot that I’m still on vacation.”

“You don’t get to just go on vacation while people out there need me,” Soldier Boy huffs. “You shouldn’t be so selfish, Y/N. What’d people think about you, hearing you go on a vacation while everyone out there suffers.”

You square your jaw. This man is the epitome of selfishness.

“You are the hero, not me,” you say instead of everything burning your tongue. “I’m a mere employee, getting your coffee and sending your one-nighters home. You cannot expect me to be around three hundred sixty-five days a year.”

“Three-hundred sixty-six days this year,” he grins at you. “Now, get me my omelet. I’m hungry. And you better not forget the good stuff. I need something to smoke and a drink.”

“I do not smoke,” you snap at your boss. “I hope you don’t expect me to have drugs at my cabin either.”

“I know you are a bad girl hiding the good stuff from me,” Soldier Boy suddenly jumps up to stalk toward you. “I’ll go for a swim. When I get out, I want that omelet, sweetness. If I do not smell eggs soon, you will not sit properly for a week.”

“You’ve got to be shitt—” Your words die in your throat watching Soldier Boy get out of his suit. He smirks when you open your mouth, but no words come out. He’s shamelessly walking around naked. “What are you doing? You’ll scare the fishes.”

“Well then, I’ll catch a few and you can cook them for me,” he turns around to show you his naked ass. “I still want the eggs, though.”

“You’ve got two dangling between your legs. How about you eat them.” You chuckle at your stupid joke. “I won’t cook for you. You better leave my ground.” You turn around and stalk toward the cabin.

If he won’t leave, you’ll simply lock him out.

“I heard that!” He calls after you. “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Going inside to cook for her man.”

You stop in your tracks to turn around and give him the finger. “Fuck. YOU!”

Storming inside your cabin you slam the door shut, locking it. If you would’ve thought this through, you’d remember that he’d simply burst the door open. Right now, you are too angry and pissed to even think straight.

“He can’t just come here and ruin my vacation!”

You hear a loud bang, wood splits and the door falls to the ground with a loud thud. Now seconds later, Soldier Boy casually walks inside your cabin, still naked. He carries the door he ripped out of its angles tugged under his arm.

“Fuck, the water is perfect,” he drops the door to the ground, making you flinch. “Did you believe for one second this will keep me out?” He furrows his brows while searching your face.

“I had hoped you’ve got some decency left and won’t go any further,” you throw your hands up. “I can’t believe you came here to order me around during my well-deserved vacation.”

“Well-deserved?” He snickers. “You’d only ever deserve vacation if you sucked my dick good. Getting me coffee and shit doesn’t make you a good employee.”

“You are so…infuriating!” You throw your teacup at him. He laughs when it hits him right in the chest, only to fall to the ground. “I wish I could just throw you out of my life…wait…” You suddenly realize there is a way to get rid of him. “I quit.”

You suddenly can breathe again. You’re giddy and jump up and down. Even though you’ve got no job any longer, you feel much better.

“Now get off my lawn.”

“Hah, that’s even better,” Soldier Boy stalks toward you with a big grin on his face. “Now HR won’t go after my balls when I ruin your sweet cunt…”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎, 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.6k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ suna and reader are roommates ﾉ jealousy ofc :3 ﾉ + atsumu appearance !

moving in with suna was a bad idea.

he’s not a bad roommate. sure, he takes extra long showers and uses up all the hot water at least once a week and you’ve had to remind him to wash his dishes every now and then, but he’s not a bad roommate.

your frustration that comes with being suna’s roommate has less to do with him and more to do with the feelings you’ve been hellbent on keeping a secret ever since they became known to you a few weeks ago.

that much is getting harder these days with midterms being upon you. there’s been a girl over the apartment—some chick suna was paired with to work on a presentation. that fact alone doesn’t bother you; suna was kind enough to ask before inviting her over. she’s where your problem lies.

she’s shameless, really. always laughs a little too loud at jokes that aren’t that funny and always sits a little too close to suna when you’re positive the coffee table they’re working at isn’t that small. and the worst part is that suna is oblivious to it all.

even now he’s blissfully ignorant of the way she’s not so discreetly flirting with him. she’s supposed to be packing up to leave but, like she’s had some sort of life-changing revelation, she stops in her tracks and turns to suna, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you have a volleyball game this week, right?”

from the kitchen counter, you roll your eyes and stuff another spoonful of rice into your mouth. you wouldn’t normally eat in the kitchen while she was here but one too many spills by your laptop and the inevitable crumbs left in your bed have kept you from taking your meals back to your room. you’re starting to think a sticky keyboard or the unpleasant feel of tiny pieces of food against your skin would be preferable to whatever you’re about to witness.

suna nods and she pulls her hand away to clap. “perfect! i’ll be there to cheer you on!”

her exaggerated excitement causes you to snort, earning the attention of both of them. there’s a curious expression on suna’s face but the girl is all but staring daggers at you like you popped her bubble of joy and ruined the moment. you’re tempted to laugh.

“sorry, saw something funny on my phone,” you lie, shooting the two of them a smile before turning around to wash your dishes.

you dawdle at the sink until you hear the front door close. suna appears as you’re drying your hands and you spare him a glance, wondering if he’ll bring up your strange behavior. part of you hopes he does—maybe then you could open his eyes, finally make him privy to that girl’s blatant attraction to him.

he doesn’t question it, though. instead, he asks, “can i see what you were laughing at?”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

“you don’t get it, ‘tsumu, she’s actually the worst,” you tell him, dramatically dropping your head on his shoulder.

“why don’t you just leave when you know she’s coming over?”

your eyes cut over to atsumu, an unsavory frown tugging at your lips due to his outrageous suggestion. you can’t believe your best friend would side with her. “why should i? i’m the one who lives here.”

“because, clearly, it’s bothering you.” he isn’t the least bit apologetic for his outlandish recommendation. “look, it’s either that or you come out and tell suna that you like him. i’m tired of hearing you bitch and moan every time i’m here. we’re supposed to be watching them do that.” atsumu points to the screen of your laptop that’s playing some trashy reality show the two of you are hooked on.

you click your tongue at his blunt response, lifting your head from his shoulder. maybe he’s right—complaining won’t get you anywhere, but you’re too proud to tell him so. “hey. this is the thanks i get for putting up with your relationship problems? you ungrateful brat.”

you flick his forehead which elicits a shocked gasp from the blonde. a victorious grin is in the process of making its way to your lips when the plush of one of the many stuffed animals you keep in your room hits your cheek. your jaw drops in surprise at atsumu’s courageous counter.

“i’m going to kill you.”

you aren’t usually one for using your precious plushies as a weapon but any one within your reach is promptly launched at the setter. he dodges some and is whacked by others, all while theatrically screeching for you to stop. you’ve still got some steam left by the time you run out of ammunition and atsumu can tell. he reaches out, taking your wrists in his hands to prevent you from doing anything.

“wait, i’m sorry,” he breathes out, strands of messy hair falling in front of his face. “truce?”

you’re considering whether or not you want to take him up on his offer when your door swings open. suna’s on the other side.

his eyes scan the room, taking in the mess of colorful stuffed animals strewn across the space before they land on you. not you, but the way atsumu’s holding you. something about it makes his jaw tighten.

“hey.” your voice, breathier than usual, convinces suna to meet your eye. “what’s up?”

the scene he walked in on almost made him forget why he’d come by in the first place. “i’m ordering food. do you want anything?”

you hum in contemplation and then smile. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

he nods, readying to close the door. “i’ll call you when it’s here.”

the click of the door shutting sounds over the indiscernible voices coming from your laptop. taking your hands back from atsumu, you straighten out your clothes as thoughts of suna cross your mind. he usually finds any way to make a conversation drag, lingering in your doorway even when you’ve told him to leave so you can go to sleep.

you’re about to ask atsumu if he caught on to his friend’s abnormal lack of words, but he’s got another idea.

“yeah, thanks, i don’t want anything,” atsumu shouts at the closed door.

forty minutes pass before the episode ends and atsumu takes his leave. you see him out, planning your next viewing party as he puts on his shoes. he whispers something about settling shit with suna before then so he isn’t subject to your fussing the next time he comes around and darts down the hall before your fist can meet his shoulder.

you make a mental note to get back at him when you see him tomorrow as you shut the door and spin on the ball of your foot. from the foyer, you can see suna situated at the coffee table. there are plastic delivery bags on the surface and he seems to have already started eating from his portion.

“what happened to letting me know when the food was here?” you ask, shuffling over to his figure and plopping down on the floor beside him.

through a mouthful of noodles, he replies, “i didn’t want to interrupt.”

you almost scold him for talking with food in his mouth but then his words register. your eyebrows furrow as you split your wooden chopsticks. “interrupt what, exactly?”

it’s petty, he knows, but he can’t ignore the feeling that’s been gnawing at him since he saw atsumu touching you so comfortably. it’s like the image is seared into his eyelids and he’s forced to see it every time he blinks.

“i don’t know.” he flicks a mushroom with his utensil. “just seemed like you two were in the middle of something when i walked in.”

you hum, not paying much mind to his words as you pick up the stir-fry with your chopsticks. the noodles hang right in front of your lips when you respond, “i guess we kind of were.”

suna frowns at your answer. he wanted to hear you say it was nothing so he could kick himself for being so unreasonably bent out of shape. instead, your reply fuels him to ask the question he’d been wondering about for nearly the past hour. “are you and atsumu together?”

“what?” you sputter around your noodles. you want to tell him no but, unlike suna, you aren’t one for talking with your mouth full. your silence, however, only leads suna to keep going.

“i don’t care if you are but you should have told me so i wouldn’t just barge in on-”

“i’m not dating atsumu,” you finally reveal after swallowing your food. you’re not sure what possesses you to say the next part—perhaps you feel the need to really drive your point home—but it comes out speedily. “i like you.”

quiet blankets the room following your declaration. the two of you stare at each other with parted lips, suna’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. his lack of a response makes your heart beat heavily against your chest. it’s loud in your ears and you wonder if he can hear it too.

you breathe out an awkward laugh after a couple more seconds of silence. “look-”

“i like you, too,” suna admits.

“jeez, suna, you should have just said that!” you slap his shoulder, cheeks warming in belated embarrassment. “i thought i was going to have to move out because of one-sided feelings.”

“sorry.” he chuckles, rubbing the spot you had just hit. it didn’t hurt, but it felt different than the ones he had been met with in the past. he could get used to the tingles you leave behind on his skin. “i had to let it set in.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

[doki-doki-imagines]

PLS PLS CAN YOU DO THAT CHAT THING WITH KAISER, NESS, SAE AND NAGI WHERE READER TEXTS THEM SAYING “your face is so pretty I just wanna sit on it” AND THEIR REACTIONS😍😍

author note: Idk how to use fake sms app so I went for an ol' classic gif reaction.

Michael Kaiser:

-What is he looking at? At his reflex on the mirror obviously. -A laughter starts to blossom from his chest, already pushed out like a proud rooster. -He slicks his hair back, blue eyes shining with joy. Michael licks his teeth, perfect as he is. Damn, anybody would like to sit on his face; he is so fucking handsome. -He picks his phone up ready to message you something along the lines of "C'mere. I'll give you the ride of your life." Michael smirks, proud of coming up with such a hot line(it isn't). -But the message you sent got deleted. -His eyes bulge out almost cartoon style. Did he dream about it? Was the message from someone else? Michael checks the other chats, but nobody messaged him. -He doesn't want to message you about that, he isn't desperate! But a voice in the back of Michael's mind screams at him. -"?" He sends back. "Did you need something?" "No, Michael. Thanks for worrying." You reply immediately. -His heart picks a worryingly fast beat. You replied way too fast. A lightbulb turn on in his head, but the idea he comes up with is pretty risky. Michael feels blood running to his ears when he finally presses send. -"If you are free wanna come over? I need help choosing the new bed covers."

Alexis Ness:

-He is mind-numbing happy. After all, it is a pretty nice compliment to read from his crush. -If Alexis had a tail it would be wagging left and right now. A dumb smile is plastered on his face while he keeps looking at his phone. -"What are you looking at, Ness?" It's Michael's voice calling him back to work, mildly annoyed that the other boy's attention wasn't fully on him. "Oh- It's nothing, Kaiser! Let's go back to training." Alexis hides his cell phone under the last layer of his gym bag. Michael doesn't dig further for once. -When Alexis opens his phone back the sun already left his place for the moon. He obviously forgot about your message 'till he reads the new ones. "Have I crossed any boundary, Alexis? I'm sorry if it happened." "Please I don't want our friendship to be ruined by this." His heart sunk to his ass and climbed back into his throat in a matter of seconds. -Alexis calls you, clearly worried. You pick up fast for Alexis' heart health. "I'm so sorry I didn't reply sooner! I had practice and I had to go then-" he keeps blabbering "I'll do anything for your forgiveness." "…Anything Alexis?" "Yes." "I wasn't joking when I sent you that message…my or your place?" "Yours. It will be my pleasure." He says, voice finally calm. -He wasn't joking.

Sae Itoshi:

-"I must have forgotten the part where I asked your opinion." -HE IS RUDE. -Sae knows it is a joke. A stupid one to try to tease him. He may not be the brightest mind, but he understands what you are trying to do. -He goes back to training like nothing happened. Then he showers and all of sudden Sae has the urge to add another line to the previous message he sent. -Meanwhile, you replied with a ton of sad emojis and other dumb blabbering Sae's mind doesn't even register. -"Anyway I prefer to eat it from the back." Sae smiles thinking he has just sent the king of the comebacks, an earth-shattering line. Soon he gets a reply, that makes his smile drop. "I must have forgotten the part where I asked about your opinion." -Maybe you are really made for each other.

Seishiro Nagi:

-What a nice message to receive. Not. -You are hundreds of kilometres of distance what is supposed to happen? Honestly thinking is tiring him out. -Seishiri sends you the thumb-up emoji and throws his phone somewhere on his bed, pc already turned on to play the newest game. -But now a worm dug a hole in his head, making Seishiro thinks about the message and not at his ranking flopping; such a noob behavior. -He thinks about your soft thighs pressing his ears, your warmth enveloping his face… -Seishiro facepalms, fingers messaging his temples before brushing away some of his snow white hair strands away from his forehead. -He doesn't even notice he already dialed your number. -"Talk dirty." "What? Muddy pants? Sweaty shirts?" "Don't play dumb. It's all your fault if I can't concentrate now. And don't let me explain, it's bothersome." You chuckle at the other end. He can feel the mirth in your voice. "Sorry angel. You'll have to work if you want the prize." -He groans in annoyance, head thrown back. -It seems like Seishiro will have to break his "5 days doing nothing useful" streak.

[di-writes-stuff]

loml

Greg House x Reader

A/N: So, I haven’t written anything in months. Whoopsies! (I have no excuse, I just didn’t want to.)

TW: It’s House. There’s your trigger warning. (Drugs.)

“Who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames, if we know the steps anyway?”

This is a mistake.

That’s the only thought that runs through your head as you sit in the sterile examination room, the chair under you hard and entirely uncomfortable. It’s fitting, nothing about this will be pleasant, you knew it going in.

And yet you still did. You walked into this damn hospital, snuck around like some criminal, praying that you wouldn’t run into him before the time was right. If it ever is, it never really has been with you two. Maybe it never will be, maybe the world is trying to tell you something you’re just too stubborn to hear. How many times can you keep going back to the same broken thing?

Apparently you haven’t hit your limit yet, considering where you are.

It’s like every nerve in your body spurs to life as the door slides open and he walks in. Him, House. His eyes are glued to the chart in his hand, not really bothering to look at you. He’d treat his patients through the door if he could.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks in a way that’s so typically him you almost roll your eyes. Abrasive, cold, these should be red flags. They are, you just don’t care.

Maybe he had a point with all the masochist jokes.

You quickly refocus, clearing your throat and waiting. For what, you’re not sure. Obviously he’ll look up, recognize you as, well, you. His ex, but that’s not even close to covering whatever twisted role it is you serve in his life. On and off for…how long? Years, you know that. Two, at least, maybe more. There’s always something wrong, something ruining your chances. The drugs, the painfully obvious emotional unavailability. The same one you ignored the existence of when you decided to come here.

Then there’s you. The constant desire you have for more. More devotion, more love, more than he’s willing to give.

Or more than he can, you refuse to explore that option.

You’re fucked, simply. There’s no possible way that you two work. It’s too much conflict, more than a mouthful of pills or some hate sex can solve.

His eyes flick up and widen as he freezes. Speechless. In another circumstance you’d be proud of this. It’s an achievement after all, he never does know when to shut his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting you, not for a second. Maybe he should’ve. You’ve always been stubborn, a trait you both share. It made for some agonizingly long arguments, and some wildly good make up.

That’s the issue with you two. You are eachother. It’s why you’re so chaotic together. It’s also why you can’t be with anybody else.

“Hey.” You say weakly, and the word feels stupid as it comes out of your mouth. You’re long past pleasantries, which is exactly why you receive silence in return.

You knew he’d be like this.

You feel your face heating in humiliation anyway. At the very least, you won’t cry, you won’t let yourself.

The stinging sensation in your nose is persistent as ever.

He slowly crosses the room, sitting down in the chair next to you, a small creaking noise filling the otherwise empty silence. A thick swallow from you, the awkward drumming of fingers from him. This is painful, and for a second you hope his pager will go off. He’d bolt with an excuse, you know he would. And because you’re the same, you would too. And then you’d be back, in a week, maybe a month, and it’d be even worse.

You’ve always had a knack for self-destruction.

You both know how it ended last time. All over a stupid bet. Cuddy thought he couldn’t make it a week without Vicodin, he thought he could. Back when he was still adamant about denying his addiction. Halfway through it might as well have been torture. Deep into detoxing, and still, he wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t listen as you begged him to stop being so childish, so stubborn. He wouldn’t even let you come near him, let alone help. He said it’s cause he didn’t need your pity.

In reality, he just didn’t want you to see him like that. Nobody would. Every inch of his pale, shaking frame was covered in sweat, bags under his eyes and a bloodshot gaze had him looking damn near dead.

He was sick, and he hated having to face it more than anything. The Greg House being forced to admit he was wrong. Sometimes you wondered if he’d rather die than say it out loud.

Neither of you handled it well, you never do. He was too stupid to see the obvious, see that he needed help. Needed you. And you, you were too sensitive to let it go. Let him go. Give up on any hope that this could go anywhere.

You still are, and you feel it keenly as the two of you sit in silence. His eyes are trained on you, and if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think the look in his eyes was judgement. But no, it’s a myriad. Confusion, anger, guilt, longing. All things he’d never admit. That’d be far too human.

“Say something.” Your voice comes out pleading, a tone you loathe on yourself.

He turns to you, his eyes tracing over your every feature like he can’t decide which one to settle on. How many times has he seen you like this? Desperate, vulnerable, because of him. He loses count. He wants to forget it, but you have to go through the motions. Pretend you’ve worked through your issues so you can live in a momentary state of bliss. Maybe it’ll last a few months this time. Could be less, if he really screws it up.

He’ll take what he can get.

“What do you want me to say?” The words come out harsh, cold, and for a moment he expects you to turn away. You don’t. Of course you don’t.

You sigh heavily, you expected it, the ice you’d be met with. You know him intrinsically, predicting his moves like the plot twists of a movie you’ve watched one too many times.

“Something, anything.” This is sad, pathetic, even. You always do this. Go back to each other, pulling out a past that’s probably better off left in the dark closet it belongs to. Still, how can you just forget? The idea feels foreign after all this time weaving in and out of one another’s lives.

Still, this is familiar, comfortable, in a way. The feigned indifference, the cold tone, the need to pretend neither of you care nearly as much as you do. It would be easier, less painless, to just move on. Have lives separate from each other.

But he’s starting to think he lives off pain. Physical and mental. It’s all he’s known for years. Why change a routine that’s become so commonplace? And even with the pain, he’s never been happier than he was with you. You understand him, and the part of him that hates that kneels to the part that needs it.

The break ups, the separation, it’s all just a low between highs. Ones he finds far more addicting than the pills sitting in his pocket.

He begins tapping his cane on the floor, a restless rhythm. “I miss you.” His voice is deadpan as the words come out, and you know why. He’s being honest, his tone can’t betray how hard that really is for him. He leans his head back, letting it thud against the wall behind you in a way that makes you flinch.

For a moment, you wonder if he’s just saying what you want to hear.

You quickly remember who you’re talking to.

He lets his knee fall sideways, brushing against yours. It’s tiny, imperceivable, almost. If you weren’t so clued into everything he was doing, maybe you wouldn’t have noticed it. But you did, your eyes flicking down to the point of contact. It feels dangerous.

“I missed you too.” Your voice is shaky, quiet, pathetic. To you, at least. Most might see this as normal. A healthy display of vulnerability. You, though. This is hell. It is for him too. It’s also necessary. Maybe this is your twisted way of proving yourselves to each other, giving evidence to your devotion.

“This won’t end well.” He says, pragmatic as always. Cold, sensible. Too smart for hoping, waiting on change that’ll never come.

“I know.” And I’m here anyway. Words go unspoken, you’ve had enough honesty for today.

He sighs, and the noise is too tired. For a second fear settles in that you’re the one doing this to him. That trying to be decent. Trying to be suitable for a relationship is just too much for him to handle.

“Then why are you here?” He knows the answer, he’s not stupid. Maybe he just needs to hear it, and then he’ll get the common sense to tell you to leave. To give up on this, spare both of you the inevitable pain.

You sigh, the idea of having the explain worse than just letting the truth linger unspoken. “What if it works this time?” You know it’s stupid, and you know he’ll tell you just that. For a second you remember something your therapist told you. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. You’d rolled your eyes, told her this wasn’t anything like that. That people can change, you can change.

You stopped going to your appointments after that.

You just look at him, watch as he closes his eyes, running a hand over his face before looking to you. “For how long?” For a second, you think there’s hope in his voice, like he’s waiting for you to lie to him, say this can last forever. It probably will, you think. On and off for the rest of your lives, never stable.

“We can find out.” The words are an invitation, a reckless one. You’ll let him back in, and it’ll end poorly, and you won’t be able to be mad. You knew how this would go from the start, how can you blame him for the inevitable?

He looks to you, and you can tell he’s given up. It was always gonna happen, you wouldn’t stay away forever. No use in wasting time waiting.

“I hate you.” The words are empty. It’s his last ditch effort to push you away. He has to do it, he has to know he didn’t just let you in. Something in him has to hold onto the false belief that he doesn’t need this, that he’s indifferent. That he’s the same cold man he’s always been.

As he mutters the words he reaches out, his hand sliding over your jaw, pulling you in closer.

You smile weakly, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of the statement. You know him, you know when he’s lying, and he’s never done a worse job at it than he just did.

You’re hardly inches apart now, your lips nearly ghosting his own. Your voice is shaky as you speak, “Love you too.” As his lips brush yours, he just melts, leaning into you with a fervor he used to call lust. There’s no use pretending that’s all this is now.

The kiss ends all too soon as he pulls away, shallow breaths leaving both of you, filling the silence. You almost wonder if you should leave when his voice sounds, quiet, tentative, all things he’s normally not.

“I’m going to screw this up.” The look in his eyes is guilt for something he hasn’t even done. He will, but you ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head that says to run before he has the chance. Yes, he’s hurt you. It’s not as if you haven’t done the same to him. You know where to aim when you’re mad, and you’ve turned him to a dartboard more times than you can count.

“I’m okay with that.” For a second, as the words fall off your tongue so easily, almost instinctually, you wonder if your mother would be disappointed in you. This isn’t how she raised you. Offering some man a hundred second chances all because what, you love him? Because when it’s good, it really is so good?

Because at the end of the day, you don’t think you could do it. Leave him, live the rest of your life without him in it. You’d wonder, you’d always wonder what would’ve happened if you just gave him one more chance. And so you will, again, and again, and again.

Sometimes you wonder what your life would look like if you’d never met him. Maybe you’d be married, happy with some man who gave you far less trouble than House ever did. You curse the way you find the thought boring. He’s awful, but he’s thrilling. You might even have kids, or at least be ready for one.

You know deep down you could have a future like that, and still, all thoughts of it dissipate when he opens his mouth.

“I’m off at eight.” Self loathing drips from each word. He’s a selfish bastard, he’ll let you forgive him, and time and time again, he’ll know he doesn’t deserve it. Still, he can’t turn you down. He can’t leave. He can’t not have you. The one good thing that’s ever come out of his life. He just can’t. Not when you’re offering.

“I’ll be here.” The words are so horribly fitting. Won’t you always? Will there ever be a time he takes it too far? Or will you always go back to him? Will you always turn away from the better life, the happier life you could have without him?

Yes. It’s always yes, because deep down, you stopped wanting a life without him the second you experienced life with him. Everything else became boring, commonplace, once you’d had him. There’s nothing like House. Not a person, or drug, or liquor strong enough to come close to how he makes you feel. Nothing can make the memory fade, and nothing can replace it either.

There’s no good outcome, it’s either life alone or life with him. And so you let his fingers interlace with your own, let the sensation numb the thought that never left your head this whole time, the one that’ll haunt you on sleepless nights you spend in his bed, staring at the ceiling with his arms wrapped around you.

This is a mistake.

A/N: thank u to the taco bell fire sauce packet i quoted.