#ugh i feel so!!!!!!!! all over the place!!!!

[smutinlove]

Please give me more size kink hcs for Jason!!!

Especially with fem!reader who's 5ft tall 👀

you ask, i deliver, babe.

lowercase is intentional

•this man is a FREAK. he is 6 feet tall, meaning he literally floats over you. and this man is big and strong. he could pick you up easily, and that thought makes him go feral.

•speaking of ferality, this man loves pinning you against a wall. i can envision it right night. his hand holding you in place while the other travels down your body, tracing your curves.

•ugh, am i screaming? yes. on the topic of sounds, this man GROANS will fucking you. and he sounds so hot. just imagine this: missionary position; he's on top of you, jason is covered in sweat, and his cock buried deep inside you while you pant out his name. and he's groaning and grunting, going deeper and deeper inside you. his main goal? to absolutely RUIN your tiny ass.

•okay, okay, headcanon: jason isn't the type of man to use toys, but he will use handcuffs. why? because it gives him a high. a feeling of control over you while he tortures your cunt.

•im ngl, i feel like he's the type of man who will do it anywhere. imagine this: you're at a gala, wearing a tight dress that accentuates your curves. ugh, jason's hands are kept firmly at your waist, occasionally pulling you closer to him whenever you even slightly move an inch. and he's just all over you. like, he's smelling your perfume, burying his head in the crook of your neck, and by the end of the night, you two are in bruce's office, fucking like animals.

•and also, he's just towering over you. he's pulling your hair, tugging you closer to him.

•im thinking of shower sex rn. omg, jason just casually wandering into the shower will you're in there. and he's naked and starts grinding against your ass.

•his hands planted on your waist, his head buried in the crook of your neck as cold water trickles down both of your bodies.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SIX ━━ Shattered Glass

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 3.8K

☆ ━ warnings: mentions of conversion therapy

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: finally bro

DANI STANDS in the dimly lit darkroom, watching the chemicals slowly bring her latest batch of photos to life. The soft red glow of the safelights fill the room, casting long shadows across the black-and-white prints hanging on the drying line. The hum of the machines and the faint smell of chemicals are oddly calming, giving her a momentary escape from the chaotic mess her life has become. She likes it here. The darkroom is one of the few places that still feels like her own—maybe her safe space.

She adjusts the print in the developer tray, her hands moving automatically as her mind wanders. It’s hard not to think about the other night, about Paige’s basket. The note stays with her, a flicker of warmth that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She wishes Paige hadn’t done it. She wishes she could’ve just stewed in her misery, in the mess she’s made. It would be easier that way.

Now, Dani can’t stop thinking about it. Paige is always there, lurking at the edges of her thoughts, no matter how much Dani tries to push her away.

It’s frustrating and comforting at the same time.

The door to the darkroom swings open, flooding the room with harsh light from the hallway. Dani blinks against it, silently cursing as Serena Corren struts in. The blonde cheerleader makes no effort to close the door softly, the bang of it slamming shut making Dani wince. Serena isn’t supposed to be here, at least not right now, but here she is anyway, crashing into Dani’s quiet space like she always seems to do.

“Hey, Dani.” Serena drops her yearbook materials on the counter with a loud thunk, her sharp voice cutting through the low hum of the room.

“Hey,” Dani mutters, her eyes fixed on the developing photo, hoping Serena will take the hint and keep her distance. But that isn’t how Serena works. She never really does subtle.

Serena leans over, peering at the picture. “You’re still working on that football game? Don’t you have, like, a thousand of those already?”

Dani shrugs, her jaw tight. “I’m trying to be thorough.”

Serena scoffs. “No, I think you’re trying to be alone in here, avoiding everyone.” She straightens, fixing Dani with a pointed look pursing her lips into a line. “You’ve been weird lately, you know that?”

Dani’s shoulders tense. She knows where this is going and she doesn’t want to deal with it. “I’m fine, Serena.”

“Yeah, sure,” the blonde drawls, pulling up a stool and plopping down on it without asking. “That’s why Beau’s been bitching to everyone about you. Says you’ve been acting all ‘distant.’”

Dani doesn’t say anything, keeping her eyes locked on her work. Beau. Of course, it’s about Beau. Everything is always about him—her boyfriend, her obligation. The person she’s supposed to care about. Except she doesn’t. Not really.

Serena crosses her arms, eyeing Dani with a mix of disdain and curiosity. “You’re lucky, you know that? Beau’s, like, the hottest guy in school, and you’ve been treating him like shit recently. So, spill, and tell me what your deal is.”

Dani’s grip tightens on the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white. “I’ve just been dealing with stuff,” she mumbles.

“Right, ‘stuff.’” Serena’s tone drips with sarcasm, her eyes narrowing. “You’ve got everyone worried, Dani. Not just Beau—though, let’s be real, he’s the only one actually trying. The rest of us? We don’t know why you even bother hanging out anymore if you’re gonna be so… ugh.”

Dani’s stomach twists, but she keeps her mouth shut. Of course, Beau’s trying. That’s the narrative. That’s always the narrative. But neither him or Serena or any of their other friends are ever actually trying to help. The blonde isn’t even asking if Dani was okay. She’s here to make a point, to make sure Dani knows she’s out of line for daring to withdraw from the group.

Serena’s lips curl in a half-smile, her eyes sharp. “Look, I get it. Maybe you’re going through something or whatever, but seriously? You’re not the only one with problems, Dani. Beau’s been putting up with a lot from you.”

Dani lets out a short, bitter laugh before she can stop herself. “Putting up with me? Are you serious?”

Serena’s smile falters for a second before she narrows her eyes. “Yeah, I am. You’ve been flaking on him for weeks, acting all moody, and he’s still there. Most guys wouldn’t stick around if their girlfriend was being such a—” Serena throws her hands up in the air, searching for a word, “—headcase!”

Dani’s vision blurs with irritation, but she swallows it down. It isn’t worth it, arguing with Serena. Sure, the girl was nice and welcoming at first, but it didn’t take Dani much time to realize just how fake Sersna can be. By now, Dani can hardly stand her, but she’s inevitable—Serena’s a part of Beau’s circle, part of this whole sick, suffocating dynamic Dani’s been shoved into. At this point, she has to hang out with them, even though Serena and the others have no idea what’s really going on, and even if they did, they wouldn’t care. They’d probably just mock her even more.

She can’t explain why she’s acting “weird.” She can’t explain why the thought of being around Beau makes her feel like her skin is crawling. She can’t explain how much she hates who she’s become since she got back from camp. She can’t explain that the more she’s sucked into this straight girl, quarterback’s girlfriend, Catholic princess persona, the more she feels the girl underneath it slipping away, caught in between two worlds that don’t meet.

Serena’s still watching her, waiting for a response, her lips frowning in faux concern. “You’re lucky he hasn’t dumped you yet.”

Dani grits her teeth. Lucky. She’s not lucky; she’d be much more lucky if he dumped her. Beau’s controlling, selfish, and she knows he’s never given a damn about what she wants or how she might feel. He’s only gotten worse lately too, like a few nights ago—leaving her stranded, making her walk home alone in the dark while he drove off, doing who-knows-what.

But none of that matters, because in Serena’s world, Beau can do no wrong. In fact, Dani wouldn’t even be surprised if the two of them have fucked by now. “Maybe I don’t care if he dumps me,” the brunette mutters under her breath.

Serena snorts, “Yeah, right. Please. You’d be miserable without him, Dani. You wouldn’t have anyone left.”

That is what hits Dani hard, the words sinking into her like ice. She wants to that Serena’s wrong, but the fear is there, gnawing at her. Because who will she have without Beau, without this group she’s been forced into? She’s already lost her real friends, the ones who actually matter. Paige, Thaliah, Jalen.

“Look,” Serena continues, her voice smug, “just stop acting like this. Whatever this moody, weird thing you’ve got going on? It’s not cute. We’re all getting tired of it.”

Dani feels the anger bubbling up again, sharp and hot in her chest. She can’t do this anymore—can’t sit here and listen to Serena drone on about something that doesn’t even really fucking involve her. “I don’t care if you’re tired of it, Serena. You know what? Maybe I’m the one tired of it, tired of hanging around all of you, tired of hearing you bitching, and tired of the fact that none of you have a nice fucking bone in your body!”

Serena’s eyes flash with surprise, but she quickly covers it with a smirk. “Wow, okay. You’ve been one of ‘us’ for months now. So what the fuck does that say about you then, hmm?” She pauses, letting the words sink in, before continuing, “You’re just like the rest of us. And if you’re really gonna throw away everything just because you’re in one of your moods, then I guess I thought you were smarter than you really are.”

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her hands shaking slightly as she turns back to her photos. She doesn’t respond. She refuses. Because if she does, she isn’t sure what will come out—whether it would be anger or something worse. She doesn’t want to cry in front of Serena. She refuses to give her that satisfaction.

After a long, tense silence, Serena stands, brushing invisible dust off her skirt. “Whatever, Dani. Keep being weird if that’s what you want. Just don’t be surprised when Beau gets tired of your shit and moves on. You’re replaceable, you know.”

Dani bites the inside of her lip at the venom in Serena’s words, but she doesn’t look up. She doesn’t let herself react, no matter how badly she wants to lash out.

The door to the darkroom creaks open again as Serena leaves, slamming it shut behind her.

PAIGE HASN’T heard a single word her financial algebra teacher has said the entire class period. Her foot taps against the floor incessantly, the low thud thud thud filling her head. She’s restless—scratch that, obsessed. Her is was stuck in one place, on one person.

Dani.

Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani, Dani.

Paige has been like this since Halloween, unable to focus on anything except the basket she left on the girl’s porch, hoping it would be some kind of olive branch. She’s spent the last few days replaying every interaction in her mind, trying to decipher Dani’s walls, to figure out what exactly is going on inside her head.

For how well and how long Paige has known the brunette, she simply can’t tell. She’s tried—but she has no idea what’s swirling in her ex-best friend’s mind that prompted her to create this entire situation. But what Paige does know is that she can’t keep sitting in this classroom pretending to care about math when all she wants to do is get Dani to talk to her. Really talk to her.

She lets out a sigh, barely noticing the way the teacher glances up from her notes. Paige bites her lip, her foot tapping even faster now, her knee bouncing. She can’t take it anymore.

Shooting her hand up, Paige catches the teacher’s attention. “Ms. Greene?” she asks, her voice a little shaky.

Ms. Greene, who’s in the middle of explaining some equation Paige can’t even begin to follow, stops mid-sentence, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Paige?”

Paige swallows, feigning discomfort. “I don’t feel well. Can I go to the nurse?”

Ms. Greene studies her for a moment, clearly weighing how bad Paige looks. Then, she nods. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Paige quickly packs up her stuff, barely caring about leaving her things behind, and bolts out of the classroom. She isn’t going to the nurse. She has somewhere else to be—somewhere Dani would be.

She hates to admit it, but she knows Dani’s schedule like the back of her hand. It isn’t like she meant to memorize it; it just kind of happened over time. Call her a stalker—maybe she is—but she’s always paid attention to Dani, even now when they aren’t even friends anymore.

And she knows exactly where Dani is during this period: the darkroom. Paige has seen her slip into it on more than one occasion during this period. Paige has been in there herself several times, all with Dani, all last year. She’d sit on one of the stools and watch Dani work, infatuated like she always seems to be by the brunette. She misses it. She misses everything.

And she can’t stand it anymore. She has to get through to Dani. Today.

The hallways are mostly empty as Paige strides down them, her heartbeat quickening with every step. She isn’t sure what she’s planning to say, but she knows she has to say something. If she can just get Dani to open up—to explain why she’s shutting everyone out, why she’s pushed Paige away so violently—then maybe, just maybe, things can go back to how they used to be.

As Paige turns the corner, she slows her pace, watching someone step out of the darkroom. Serena Corren struts out, her face twisted in an annoyed scowl. The cheerleader’s blonde hair whips behind her as she slams the door with enough force to make Paige raise her eyebrows.  Serena’s eyes flick up as she passes the basketball player, and for a brief moment, their gazes meet. Paige can see the disdain in Serena’s eyes—she looks irritated, almost as if she’s blaming Paige for something, but neither of them say anything. The silent exchange is fleeting and Paige thinks it’s a little odd, too.

Paige reaches the door of the darkroom, her heart thudding in her chest. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t knock. She just pushes the door open. The low red light of the darkroom washes over her like a wave of unease, the smell of developing chemicals hangs in the air, and the soft hum of the machines fill the silence.

Before Paige can even step fully inside, Dani’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and biting. “God, if you’re gonna keep berating me about this—” Dani snaps, her tone dripping with irritation, clearly mistaking Paige for Serena.

But when Dani spins around, her words die on her lips. The fiery annoyance in her eyes quickly evaporates, replaced with shock. “Paige,” she breathes, like the wind has been knocked out of her. She blinks, her body stiffening. “What are you doing here?”

Paige steps further into the room, letting the door click shut behind her. She swallows, her heart racing as she locks eyes with Dani. “I’m here because we need to talk,” she says steadily.

Dani’s face hardens. She turns back to her photos, ignoring Paige like she isn’t even there. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Dani mutters, flat and dismissive.

“Yes, there is,” Paige responds firmly. She refuses to let Dani shut this down again. “You know there is.”

Dani quickly turns back toward Paige, a faux smile on her face. “You’re so right, Paige, we do need to talk,” she says, her tone sickly sweet. “Thank you for the basket, I appreciated it.” And then she turns right back to the photos.

Paige clenches her fists, frustration boiling up inside her. She’s spent months tiptoeing around Dani’s moods, giving her space, hoping she’ll come around on her own. But that isn’t working. She isn’t going to stand by while Dani pushes her further away, destroying herself in the process.

“Stop it,” Paige replies, shaking her head. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong, what exactly has been going on with you.”

Dani scoffs, shaking her head as she continues to work, refusing to look at Paige. “What, you’re just going to barge in here and demand I spill my guts?” she asks incredulously. “That’s not how this works, Paige.”

Paige steps closer, her voice firm but pleading. “I’m not trying to make demands. I just… I need to understand why you’ve been acting like this. Why you’ve been pushing me away. You don’t even look at me anymore, Dani. And I—” Paige’s voice cracks, and she swallows hard, fighting the emotion rising in her throat. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

Dani’s hands still over the photo paper, her fingers trembling slightly, though she quickly balls them into fists to hide it. She doesn’t respond, but Paige can see the tension radiating from her.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Dani finally mutters under her breath, her voice barely audible.

Paige’s heart clenches. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

“I’m not,” Dani rebuttals, though both of them know she’s lying. “I just—I can’t do this right now, okay? You should go.”

“No,” Paige says, shaking her head, her voice ready to rise at any second because she’s tired of this. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to shut me out like this after everything we’ve been through, and then lie and say that you aren’t. I care about you, Dan. I always have. And I know you care about me, too. So, why are you doing this?”

Dani shakes her head profusely, almost like she’s trying to shake something out of her brain. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me,” Paige shoots back, her frustration rising. She can feel the walls between them, the weight of everything Dani isn’t saying, and it’s suffocating. “I’ve been your best friend since we were kids. You can’t just cut me out of your life without an explanation. I know something happened over the summer. Something had to have happened, because I know you wouldn’t do this without reason I know it. But I don’t know why you won’t let me in. Why you won’t even talk to me.”

“No!” Dani responds, her voice rising slightly to meet Paige’s. She stays stubborn, not breaking. “You won’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!” Paige bursts out, her frustration finally spilling over. She throws her hands up in the air in disbelief. “God, Dani, I’m trying so hard to be here for you, but you’re making it impossible. Why won’t you just talk to me?”

Dani slams her hand down on the counter, making Paige jump. “Because talking won’t fix anything!” she snaps, turning to face Paige. The blonde can see the tears glistening in Dani’s eyes. “You think this is all about you, don’t you? That I’m pushing you away because of something you did. But it’s not about you. It’s about me. It’s about everything I’ve been through, everything I’m still going through. And you can’t fix that.”

Paige’s heart clenches at the sight of Dani’s tear-filled eyes, but she doesn’t stop. She steps closer once more, her voice soft but firm. “Maybe I can’t fix it. But I can be there for you. I can help you if you just let me. Please, Dani. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Dani shakes her head, her hands trembling. She averts her eyes, looking at the corner of the wall, refusing to meet Paige’s gaze. “I—I can’t,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “You don’t know what it was like…”

Paige’s breath hitches. Dani’s breaking, right in front of her, and Paige can feel it—the dam about to burst.

“What what was like?” Paige asks gently, her heart pounding in her chest. Her voice drops to a low murmur. “What happened, Dani?”

Dani stares at the ground, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Paige watches as Dani digs her nails into her thigh and she fights the urge to take the brunette’s hand in her own. “My dad…” the Callan girl starts, hardly a whisper. “He—on the Ring doorbell—he saw us kiss. You know how he is. You know what he believes in. He couldn’t accept the fact that his daughter liked other girls. So, he sent me to camp. And—and it wasn’t just any camp…” she pauses, finally meeting eyes with Paige. The blonde watches as her tears begin to spill, and she feels her own heart break with every word that comes out of Dani’s mouth. Dani shrugs, “It was conversion therapy.”

Paige freezes. “What?” Her mind reels, the words not fully sinking in at first. “You… you went to—”

“Yeah,” Dani laughs bitterly, her voice thick with tears. “All summer. While you were at basketball camps, traveling, I was stuck in that place. Being told every day that who I am is wrong. That what I feel is… is disgusting. That I was disgusting.”

Paige feels like the ground has been ripped out from under her. She stumbles forward, her hand reaching out to touch Dani’s arm, but Dani flinches away.

“Dani…” Paige’s voice is shaky, her heart aching. “I—I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” Dani whispers, and her voice breaks with a sob. “I couldn’t tell you, Paige. I wanted to. You don’t know how much I wanted to. But—y’know, I felt ashamed of the fact that I loved you just as much when I left camp as I did when I got there, even after everything they put me through. And I—I wanted to protect you from all my problems.” She pauses, sniffling slightly, trying to wipe her tears with the back of her hand. It doesn’t matter; they keep coming. “My dad, too. He’s friends with Beau’s parents. They started it—the thing with Beau and I. It made my dad happy; that’s all I really wanted. I’ve never wanted or liked Beau, Paige.”

Paige stares at her, eyes flitting across her face. She wants so badly to reach out and touch Dani, hold her. But she doesn’t want to scare her away. So, instead, she asks, “You never did? Not at all?” She thinks she already knows the answer, and she feels almost guilty for being relieved at it.

“Never,” Dani confirms, her arms wrapping around herself, probably trying to stem the sobs. “I wanted someone else.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat.

“But my dad,” the brunette chokes out, “he told me that if he ever saw us together again, that he’d send me back.” Dani looks up at Paige once more, her eyes bloodshot and filled with more fear than Paige has ever seen. Dani shakes her head, sobbing as she says, “Paige, I don’t wanna go back.”

Paige feels her heart shatter at the sight of Dani’s pain finally laid out before her. The blonde takes the final step forward, her hands going to cup Dani’s cheeks, making Dani look at her. Paige says firmly, feeling more protective of the girl before her than anything else in her entire life, “You’re not gonna go back, okay? He can’t you send you back. I won’t let him.”

Dani sobs again, and Paige pulls her in closer, was wrapping her arms around Dani into a tight hug. She holds her so tightly that it feels like they might both stop breathing, but Paige doesn’t care. She isn’t letting go. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m so sorry,” Dani whispers through her tears, clinging to Paige like she’s the only thing keeping her grounded. “I’m so sorry, P. I—I didn’t want to push you away, but I was so scared. I still am.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” Paige murmurs, her own tears slipping down her cheeks as she holds Dani even tighter. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

They stay like that, locked in each other’s arms, both of them crying, both of them holding on like the world is falling apart around them.

Because maybe it is.

But for the first time in months, they aren’t facing it alone.

[itneverendshere]

tryin' to behave, but i'm feelin' some type of way - r.c drabble.

request: rafe x bitchy!pogue reader pleaseeeee!!!! he just hates that he wants her soo fucking bad and she finds it hilarioussss

warnings: it gets steamy but no smut!; slutshaming; they both need therapy okay.

felt like writing something out of the bartender!reader universe and had this request saved up on my notes, hope you enjoy 🫂 wrote this on my phone so if there’s any typos pretend you didn’t see them 🥰🥰🥰🥰

you’re out of place here, which is exactly why you’re here, tannyhill.

fuck them. fuck him.

every high-strung kook princess with their perfectly manicured nails gives you a quick once-over, nostrils flaring when they catch the sight of your scuffed-up boots. not that you care. it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone.

and why should you? you’re only here for the free booze, it’s not your fault this place is such a bore. always all pearls, pastels, and the scent of white wine and privilege. who the fuck drank white whine at a party? but the real reason you’re here, the whole damn reason, is staring straight at you from across the room.

rafe cameron. ugh and yum.

he’s leaning against the bar, muscles taut under that fitted navy polo like he was born to flex, with a scowl as always. it’s always that look—the one that’s aimed solely at you, every time he sees you. it’s practically a tradition by now. you show up somewhere, he glares.

there’s a tightness in his shoulders, something tells you he’s going to snap eventually, maybe it’s because you’ve been pushing buttons lately. maybe it’s because he’s got his daddy’s expectations hanging over his head like a guillotine.

or maybe it’s just because he wants you, and that little inconvenient truth pisses him off to no end.

you flash him a slow, lazy grin, shifting your hips as you grab a beer from the cooler. when you catch the way his eyes drag over you, lingering on your exposed skin, your stomach hums with satisfaction.

let him look. let him stew in it.

“country club,” you call sweetly, raising your bottle in a mock toast, the light catching on the condensation like it’s winking at him. “how’s it going?”

his jaw ticks, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“and yet, here i am,” you sing-song back, taking a slow, pointed sip. you’re feeling reckless tonight. he’s dangerous, sure. but he’s also predictable. you know exactly how to make it worse.  “aww, what’s wrong?”

you know exactly this’ll go. he’ll insult you, you’ll insult him back, and then—

his eyes narrow dangerously, that vein in his temple ticking. “what the fuck are you wearing?”

you blink innocently, glancing down at yourself. “clothes, obviously. why? does it bother you?”

“yeah,” he snaps, eyes raking over you again, lingering on the swell of your chest, the sliver of skin peeking out above your waistband. “aren’t you tired of slutting yourself around?”

your lips curl into a smirk, the slow burn of satisfaction warming your chest. this is exactly what you were hoping for.

“slutting myself around?” you echo, voice teasing. “didn’t know you were keeping tabs.” you cock your head, letting your gaze linger on his flushed cheeks, the way his nostrils flare, and that slight clench of his fists by his side.

he’s seething—looks ready to burst into flames right here in front of the bar. good.

he’s always been like this with you. short fuse, especially when it comes to what you’re wearing, how you look, where you go. but you’re onto him. you know what it’s really about.

“you must really be obsessed with me,” you continue, “it’s kinda weird, don’t you think?” you take another sip, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you meet his glare. he steps closer, crowding into your space, his chest brushing against your shoulder. you should back up, or at least pretend to care, but you just tilt your head, looking up at him with a smug little grin. “what’s wrong?” you murmur, “feeling a little tense?

“fuck off,” he grits out, stepping back like he’s burned. but it’s too late. you’ve got him now.

you cock your head, giving him a slow, taunting smile. “why? afraid you’ll get hard in front of your little friends?”

his eyes darken, jaw clenched so hard you wonder if it hurts. “i swear to god—”

“what?” you interrupt, teeth flashing. “you gonna hit me? break another one of your daddy’s toys?” you wave your hand around the pristine room, the glittering chandelier, the polished bar. “go on, then. show everyone what a psycho you are.”

“you think i won’t?” 

“yeah, i think you won’t,” you say softly, staring right into those burning blue eyes of his. “because you’re all bark and no bite.”

“you wanna see bite?” he murmurs, voice dripping venom. “i’ll show you fucking bite.”

then his hand snaps out, wrapping around your upper arm, and before you can react, he’s yanking you out of the room, down a hallway that’s all shadowed corners. you stumble, cursing under your breath, but he doesn’t stop until you’re both crashing through a side door into some empty back corridor.

“jesus, cameron, take a fucking xanax—” you start, wrenching your arm free.

for a second, you think you’ve gone too far. his whole body goes still, and something flares in his gaze—something unhinged and a little bit terrifying. but instead of snapping, instead of throwing a punch, he leans in, so close you can feel the heat of him against your skin.

you’re shoved against the wall, hard, his body caging yours in, his hands braced on either side of your head. you freeze, breath hitching. he’s close—too close—and it’s too hot and too much and—

“shut up,” he growls.

you should tell him to fuck off. you should knee him in the balls. you should do anything but feel the way you do right now—flushed, breathless, and…too horny for your own good. 

“do you always have to be so fucking dramatic?” you huff, placing your hand in chest in a futile attempt to push him away. you know he can break you in half if he wants to. 

he doesn’t move of course, just stares at you, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon. he’s got that crazed look in his eyes that should make you run for the hills, and yet you stay put.

and then, suddenly, his mouth is on yours, demanding and angry.

it’s not a kiss—it’s a punishment. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding against yours with a harshness that steals your breath. you gasp, your hands coming up to shove him away again, but somehow they get tangled in his hair instead, gripping the soft strands as he presses closer, closer— it’s a disaster. you’re a disaster. because you don’t pull away. 

you kiss him back like an idiot, just as desperate, your nails digging into his scalp as you pour all your frustration into the kiss. why does he have to be this hot? in your books, kooks aren't allowed to be hotter than a 5. unfortunately, rafe is a solid eleven.

he tastes like mint and rage, and it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. god, it does. he breaks away, panting, glaring down at you like you’re dirt under his shoes. “you drive me fucking insane, y’ know that?”

“good,” you gasp, licking your lips. “you deserve it.”

he laughs, a low, harsh sound. “you’re such a fucking bitch.”

“and you’re a spoiled, narcissistic asshole,” you snap back, shoving at his chest. he doesn’t even flinch, just glares harder, and it sends a thrill through your entire body. you’d never seen him like this, so unguarded and it was weirdly intoxicating. 

“i should ruin you,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself. his hand comes up, fingers brushing your jaw, trailing down your throat. “make you beg.”

you keep your expression defiant. “you think you can?”

rafe smirks, slow and dangerous, and it makes something burst in your belly. “i know i can.”

his hand slides lower, fingertips brushing the hem of your top, and your breath catches. you should stop this again. you should slap him, kick him, do anything but let him keep touching you like that, but you don’t. you just stare up at him, heart racing.

“show me then.”

and then his hands are on you, yanking you forward, spinning you around. you gasp, palms slapping against the wall as he presses up behind you, his body solid against yours.

“you’re a fucking brat,” he growls, his mouth right against your ear. one of his hands comes up, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch.

“and you’re obsessed with me,” you shoot back breathlessly, tilting your head to meet his gaze over your shoulder.

rafe’s grip tightens in your hair, hard enough to sting, and his lips brush your earlobe, “obsessed?” he repeats, like he can’t believe you had the fucking audacity to say it. “don’t flatter yourself, baby.”

but you feel the way his body presses against yours. your panties might be drenched but this man is just as hard. he’s close to you—so fucking close—you feel every ridge of him, and despite every insult he’s ever thrown your way, despite how much he claims to hate you, he’s here. the way he’s breathing tells you exactly what you need to know. 

you twist against him, pushing back just enough to test his restraint. “then why are you so worked up, huh?”

“i think you’re confusing us.”

“sure,” you laugh, even as his hands move down your sides, his fingernails digging into your hips. “that’s why you dragged me out here, right? because you’re just so indifferent?”

his chest brushes against your back with every ragged breath. he’s losing it. you’re making him lose it. and fuck, that feels good.

“i could ruin you,” he whispers again, like he’s trying to convince himself. his hand skim up your ribs, thumb grazing the underside of your tit, and your senses kicks into overdrive. “one word from me, and you’re done.”

“you’re all talk cameron,” you challenge, arching your back slightly, giving him more room to touch you.

you shouldn’t want this—you shouldn’t need this—but you can’t stop. 

his mouth is on your neck, hot and open, teeth scraping against your skin in a way that sends a shudder from your head to your toes.

“fuck you,” he growls against your throat, the words almost lost in the heat of his mouth. “i’m not playin’ your games.”

you bite back a moan, fingers curling against the cold wall. “you’re already playing.”

“you’re so fucking—” he cuts himself off, breathing harshly through his nose. “fuck, i hate you.”

“no, you don’t,” you turn your head just enough to catch his eye. his gaze is wild, and you smirk, taunting him with your lips just inches from his. “you wish you did.”

you know you’re pushing your luck, but then again, when haven’t you?

“you have no fucking clue what i wish,” he growls, each word dripping with so much frustration it makes you laugh.

it comes out like a soft, mocking sound. “ooh, i think i do. you wish i’d shut up. wish i’d disappear. but you really wish you didn’t get hard every time ’m around.”

his jaw ticks, that telltale sign that you’re getting to him. god, he hates you. you can see it in his clenched teeth, his furrowed brows. he hates that he wants a pogue and you find it hilarious.

“don’t flatter yourself pogue,” he snaps, but his voice is strained. his hands tighten on your hips, fingers biting into your skin just shy of painful.

you push back against him just a little harder again, feeling the rigid line of his cock pressed against your ass.

“yeah?” your voice turns breathy. “then why do i feel that?” you grind your hips subtly, just to punctuate the point, and the low sound that rumbles out of him is almost worth the risk of provoking him further.

“because you’re a fucking tease,” he mutters, voice harsh and low in your ear. “you show up, looking like you want it—”

“and so what if i do?”

it’s a dare. he’s holding you, like he can’t decide if he wants to strangle you or fuck you senseless, perhaps both. you know you’ve crossed some invisible line.

“you’re gonna regret this,” he murmurs.

“maybe,” you shoot back, unflinching. “but that’s the thing, rafe.” you twist, just enough to look at him over your shoulder, “i think you’re more scared of what you might regret.”

instead of shoving you away, instead of storming off, he does the one thing you didn’t expect. he laughs.

it’s that crazy sound he makes before he does something reckless every time, the kind that makes people run away. it’s such a humorless sound, it should scare the living shit out of you as he leans in, lips brushing against your neck. “don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

before you can answer, one hand slides up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so you’re forced to meet his eyes. they’re wild, almost feral, just like you expected.

“tell me to stop,” he whispers, his thumb brushing your lower lip, the touch so gentle it’s almost jarring. “go on, say it.”

you swallow hard, pulse hammering in your throat. you should say it. but you don’t want to.

“make me.” you know he hears you—feels you—because the corner of his mouth lifts in a slow, taunting smirk.

“yeah?” he drawls, thumb slipping from your lip to trace along your jawline, his touch featherlight and maddening. “you sure?”

“prove me wrong. or are you scared?”

“you think ’m fucking scared of you? think i can’t handle a little mouthy brat like you?”

he’s goading you, pushing you like he always does, and every word you had prepared dies on your lips 

“i’d loooove to see you try.”

“oh, you will.”

[kenacoki]

Save the Best for Last

//Pairing// Evan “Buck” Buckley x Fem!Reader

//Summary// After so many terrible dates, you always seem to find yourself coming back to Buck’s loft.

//Word Count// 5.58k

//Request// smut prompts #2 & #4

//Warnings// smutty smut smut :)), Evan Buckley being a certified munch, lazy handjobs, p in v sex, and possessive talk

//Dividers// sister-lucifer

"Oh, goddamn it."

Here you are, standing outside Buck's loft door at 10:00 at night with a six-pack of beer in hand as you contemplate your life choices.

Your latest date had been a complete and total disaster.

The man was loud, obnoxious, and a bit too handsy for your taste. So, you left the date early feeling frustrated and angry. All you want to do is relax and complain to your best friend.

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out your key to Buck's place. Letting yourself in, you sigh quietly as you slip your jacket off. The loft is empty and quiet.

"Buck?" You call out, setting the beer in the fridge.

Maybe he’s in the shower? Or asleep? You don’t get a response, so you head into the living room, flopping down onto Buck’s new couch with a huff.

You lean your head back against the couch, your eyes fluttering shut as you sigh heavily. As you sit there mentally cursing out your dumb date, the sound of footsteps causes you to open your exhausted (e/c) eyes, looking over at the source of the noise; it’s Buck, walking out of his steaming bathroom.

Completely naked.

You immediately turned red, quickly looking away and sitting up. "Jesus Christ," you blurt out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Buck, for god's sake, a towel please." You keep your eyes trained on the wall in front of you, refusing to look at your equally embarrassed friend.

"Oh—oh god, I didn’t know you came in!” Buck mumbles, grabbing a discarded towel from the bathroom floor and wrapping it around his waist.

Well, now you understand how he got the nickname Firehose.

"How long have you been here?"

"Not long." You mutter, still refusing to look at him. The image of his bare chest is burned into your brain. What you wouldn’t give to rake your fingers over his toned muscles—

Nope. Stop. No, nope. Bad thoughts.

“I’m just uh, gonna go grab some clothes.” Buck practically scurries away, disappearing up the stairs to his bedroom. You exhale, letting out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Finally looking away from the wall, you bury your face in your hands.

This is bad. You and Buck are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less. You need to get these feelings under control, but it’s so, so hard.

Buck emerges a moment later, thankfully with underwear and sweatpants on, although his chest is still bare. You try not to stare at his toned upper body as he shuffles back over to the couch, plopping himself down next to you; leaving little to no space. You desperately try not to think about it.

"S-so, how was your date?" He asks, his voice is casual but a tinge of tension in his words.

You try not to grimace as you remember the disaster that had been your evening. “Ugh, it was terrible. He was so loud and obnoxious, it was awful.” You sigh heavily, shaking your head. “I don’t know why I keep going on these stupid dates, honestly.”

Buck shifts next to you, his shoulder brushing against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. He’s so close, that you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of his body. It’s driving you crazy.

You suddenly jerk forward, rubbing your sweaty palms on your dress as you stand, “I uh, I got us beer—to drink. Do you want one?”

Smooth, real smooth (y/n).

Buck nods, his eyes following you as you walk away, his gaze trailing down your body hungrily. He can’t help it, the sight of your curves in that tight (f/c) dress is so damn distracting. He swallows hard, tearing his eyes away from you as you disappear into the kitchen.

You open the fridge door, the cool air hitting your flushed face. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You need to stop reacting this way to him, you and Buck are just friends. No matter what your stupid heart may think.

You grab a couple of beers, opening one for Buck and one for yourself. Heading back into the living room, you desperately try to get your thoughts under control.

Buck’s in the same spot as before when you come back, his arm stretched out along the back of the couch. You hand him the beer and sit back down on the couch, putting a little distance between you this time.

As you get comfortable, you take a long swig of your drink. Buck does the same, his eyes flicking over to you as he does.

The tension in the room feels thick as if you could slice through it with a knife. You take another sip of beer, glancing over at Buck. He’s still looking at you, his eyes roaming over your face. It’s making you nervous.

“What?” You ask, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"Hm?" Buck seems to snap out of his thoughts, blinking at you. "Oh, uh, nothing—Just thinking." He replies, looking away quickly and taking another drink of beer.

You along nod awkwardly, taking another sip of your beer as you try to ignore the way Buck’s eyes still glance at you,“Don’t strain yourself too hard.”

Buck snorts, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic comment. The corner of his lips twitch upwards, a small smirk growing on his face. But the smirk fades quickly, a flicker of something you can’t quite place flashing across his eyes.

"You’re just hilarious, y'know that?” He teases, but there’s an undertone to it that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You roll your eyes at him, though your heart skips a beat at his smirk. You’re suddenly very aware of how close you two have gotten again, the heat from his body practically seeping through his clothes onto your own skin.

“Damn right, I am.” You snark back at him, taking another drink of beer as you try to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest.

Buck lets out a soft laugh, his eyes locking on yours again. The smirk on his face fades as he takes a deep breath, seeming to come to some kind of decision. He shifts closer, his body leaning slightly into yours.

"Can I ask you something?"

You involuntarily tense up, your heart slamming in your chest. His sudden shift in demeanor can’t help but make you nervous, you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Sure, yeah.” You say, trying to keep your voice even. You turn towards him, meeting his gaze with your own. “What’s up?”

Buck hesitates for a moment, his tongue darting out as he wets his lips. He’s so close to you now, his face only a few inches away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is quieter than before, barely above a whisper.

"Why do you keep going on these dates?"

His question catches you off guard, making your stomach twist into knots. You certainly hadn’t been expecting him to ask that. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. You can feel your heart racing, the sound of it drumming in your ears.

"I, uh, I don’t know. Does-Does it really matter?" You reply, trying to keep your voice casual. But you can feel yourself start to fidget with your fingers nervously.

Buck watches you for a moment, his eyes scanning over your face. His hand moves, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. The touch is gentle, his fingers tracing lightly along your cheek.

"Yeah, it matters." He says, his voice soft. "It matters because all these dates are doing is making you miserable. I hate seeing you like this."

Your breath catches in your chest as his fingers lightly trail along your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel your self-control slipping, your heart and mind warring with each other. You want to lean into his touch, but at the same time, you know you need to keep your distance.

"It’s fine, Buck. I promise." You manage to say, but the shakiness in your voice betrays your words.

Buck’s hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your skin. His eyes are still fixed on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"No, it's not." He says firmly. "You're not fine. You’re miserable. I mean, you're going on these dates like some kind of punishment, like you think you need to suffer through it for some reason."

He moves even closer to you, so close that you can just barely feel his breath fan against your skin.

His words strike a nerve in you, because you know he’s right. You’ve been using these dates to try and punish yourself, to try and ignore your feelings for Buck. Now he’s calling you out on it, and it’s making it hard for you to think straight.

You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You’re so weak for him, it’s pathetic.

Buck’s hand moves from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up slightly, making you look at him. Your eyes lock with his, your heart racing at his proximity. His gaze is intense like he’s searching for something in your eyes.

"I don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself." He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your jawline. "You deserve better than these idiots you keep going on dates with. You deserve someone who actually cares about you."

Your breath catches in your chest as he speaks, your heart clenching at his words. You know he's right, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. You try to deflect, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Yeah? And who do you have in mind for me then?" You half-joke, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Buck’s thumb stops moving, his gaze steady and unwavering. His other hand moves to your hip, his fingers gripping you gently through the fabric of your dress

"Me." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flick down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

Your eyes widen in shock at his words, your mind reeling. You’re speechless, unable to believe what he’s saying. Is he being serious?

You take a shaky breath, trying to form a response but struggle to find the words. Buck’s hand on your hip tightens slightly, pulling you closer to him.

“You…you do?” You ask, your voice a little breathless.

Buck nods, and his grip on your hip tightens even more, pulling you flush against his body. You can feel his heart beating fast, mirroring your own. He’s so close to you that you can see the tiniest flecks of green in his blue eyes; you can’t help but feel compelled to touch his birthmark.

"Yeah.” He says firmly, his voice rough and low. “I do. I want you so bad it’s been driving me insane.”

Your mind is swirling, your body reacting to his every touch and word. You should be pushing him away, shoving him back, and telling him to snap out of it. This is a terrible idea, bound to end in disaster. You could lose your friendship, and your job if things go bad. But you can’t bring yourself to care.

"God Buck, me too.” You murmur, your hand moving to clutch at his waist, your fingers gripping the soft fabric of his sweatpants.

Buck lets out a low groan at your words. Your confession is like a spark, igniting a fire within him. He leans even closer until there’s barely an inch of space left between your bodies.

"You have no idea how bad I want you.” He says, his voice practically growling. “I want to kiss every inch of you, make you forget your own name.”

“Then do it.” You whisper, your voice is a little shaky but so filled with desire it’s undeniable. You want this, you want him.

You. Need. Buck.

Buck doesn’t hesitate, his lips crashing down against yours in a heated kiss. His hand in your hair tightens, angling your head back to give him better access to your mouth. His other hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, pulling you into him.

The kiss is intense, desperate, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

You let out a muffled moan, your hand moving to grasp his neck; clinging to him like a lifeline. Your body feels like it’s been set on fire, every inch of you burning with need and desire for him. You can’t get enough, you don’t think you’ll ever get enough.

You open your mouth to him, letting his tongue slide into your mouth, your own tongue meeting his in a frenzied dance. You can feel yourself falling apart, losing yourself in the intensity of his touch, of his kiss.

Buck’s hands move to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he lifts you up, easily settling you on his lap so youre straddling him. You move your hips, grinding yourself down onto him, his body reacting involuntarily to the pressure. You can feel his hardness press against your core, it sends a throb of need throughout your entire body.

Gasping, Buck breaks the kiss before moving his lips to your neck; his mouth hot and demanding against your skin.

“You…drive me…crazy.” He mutters between kisses, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. Hishands slide under the lacy hem of your dress, his fingers burning hot against your skin as they trace patterns along your sides. You arch into his touch.

“You’re all I can think about. Every day.” He continues, his voice gravelly with lust. “God, even when we’re at work.”

You let out a gasp as his tongue swirls over your skin, your fingers tangling in his curly, blonde hair. His words make your heart pound even faster.

You press yourself against Buck, your hips rolling involuntarily against his, seeking more of that delicious friction. You can feel him growing harder underneath you, only making you ache for more.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve had to go to the bathroom to get myself under control,” Buck admits, his voice rumbles against your skin. He moves his hands lower, cupping your ass and grinding you down onto him. His mouth moves lower, his teeth grazing over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone, his thumb moving over your hip bone, tracing the outline of your underwear.

You let out a soft moan, your head falling back as he works his mouth down your neck and across your chest. His touch is like gasoline on an already out-of-control fire, and you can feel yourself losing more and more control.

“Buck…” You breathe out, his name a plea and a prayer all in one.

Buck moans at the sound, his hands moving to your hips again, holding you still against him. His mouth moves back up to your neck, his teeth and lips roaming over your skin.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you so long.” He mutters, his voice rough and strained. “You keep coming to me after those stupid dates, all dressed up in these pretty dresses. Do you have any idea what it does to me?”

The mental image of him watching you from across the station, seeing you all dolled up for these dates and not being able to do anything about it, watching as you leave with another man, it makes your stomach clench. You wonder how many times he's sat there, fighting the urge to pull you into his lap, to kiss you senselessly and show everyone that you’re his.

You let out a pathetic whine, the thought making you throb with need.

Buck leans back slightly, his eyes raking over your disheveled form. You’re panting heavily, your (e/c) eyes dark with desire, lips swollen from his kisses. You’re a mess, and it makes him feel a sense of satisfaction that he’s the one who’s made you this way.

“God, look at you.” He murmurs, his hands pushing up your dress, his fingers tracing over your bare thighs. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

You shiver as his hands move higher, brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You can feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, your underwear getting more and more damp at his touch. You want him, you need him so badly that it’s starting to become painful.

“Buck please,” You pant out, your voice pleading. “I need you…I need you so bad.”

Buck’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on your thighs faltering momentarily. He can see the desperation in your eyes, the need written all over your face.

“You’ve got me.” He says, his voice a low rumble. “You’ve always had me…just didn’t know it.”

Your heart clenches at his words, your mind warring with your body. Everything about this is a bad idea, you’re playing with fire here. But at this moment, with his hands on you, his body under yours, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Prove it. Show me I’m yours, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes flash at your challenge, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. He moves without warning, standing up and easily lifting you with him. Your legs automatically wrap around his waist, and your arms cling to his shoulders. Spinning around, he starts the ascent to his loft bedroom.

You cling to him as he moves through the apartment, his hands holding you tightly, supporting your weight without any effort. You bury your face in his neck, leaving teasing kisses along his skin, your tongue and teeth nipping at his pulse point. You can feel every muscle in his body as he moves, your hands roaming across his back and shoulders, your fingernails scraping gently over his skin.

As you reach the top of the stairs, he walks you over to the edge of the bed and sets you down on the soft comforter.

“(y/n)…” He mutters, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of you. Your hair is tangled and messy, your chest heaving as you breathe heavily, your dress pooled up around your thighs, exposing your (s/c) skin. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You smirk up at him, a feeling of power rushing through you at the way he’s looking at you. You lay back slowly, arching your back and letting the skirt of your dress ride up higher. You run your tongue over your bottom lip, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Pretty good way to go though, huh?” You tease lightly.

You don’t know how, but Buck’s eyes darken even more, the sight of you on his bed—practically inviting him to take you—pushes him over the edge.

“You’re such a tease.” He mutters, moving closer to you as his hands go to the waistband of his sweats.

You let out a small gasp as he starts to lower his sweatpants, the sight of him in nothing but low-hanging boxer briefs makes your mouth water. You can see the desire and hunger in his eyes, the fact that he wants you so badly sending a thrill of pleasure through you.

“Only for you, Buckley.”

Buck moves onto the bed, caging you in with his body, his hands on either side of your head.

“Better be.” He grins, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw to your ear. His teeth nip at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

He moves lower, his lips finding your neck again, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin there, leaving a mark you know you’ll struggle to hide the next day.

You can feel your hands starting to shake as the ache between your legs grows and your mind gets fuzzy. You arch up into him, your body seeking more of his touch, more of his attention.

“Buck—need you to touch me.” You pant, your voice needy and desperate

Buck groans at your words, his hands sliding lower down your body, gliding over your stomach and then lower until they’re at the edge of your dress.

“Lift your hips.” He instructs, his voice commanding, leaving no room for argument. You instantly comply, lifting your hips off the bed, allowing him to slide your dress higher up your body.

With a quick tug, Buck pulls the dress up over your body and tosses it to the side. He takes a moment to admire you, trailing his eyes over every inch of you.

You’re laying there in just your (f/c) bra and panties, your legs slightly parted, your chest rising and falling quickly as you breathe through the need coursing through your body.

He leans back down over you, his hands and mouth immediately going to work. His mouth trails wet kisses down your torso and across your stomach, his fingers tracing lightly over your skin. You can’t help but whimper as he moves, your body responding to every touch, every graze of his lips against your skin.

His moves lower, just barely brushing the edge of your panties. You let out a gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your body arches into his touch.

You feel Buck’s smile against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you still. He loves seeing you like this, lost in pleasure and need, your body responding to his every move. He moves his mouth lower, his tongue tracing over the thin, damp fabric of your panties.

“B-Buck!” Your voice cracks

“You’re so damn sensitive,” Buck mutters, his fingers slowly tugging at the edge of your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them off to the side.

You clasp a hand over your mouth as you hold back a whine as you feel his hot breath fan against your soaked center.

Buck gently nips at the inside of your thigh, leaving small marks on your sensitive skin. He moves one of his hands to rest on your knee, keeping you spread open.

“It’s okay, (y/n).” Buck says, his voice full of desire. “Let me hear you, let me hear what I do to you.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is pressed against your soaking folds.

You let out a high-pitched moan, your hands automatically digging into his scalp, your fingers gripping his curly blonde locks. His tongue is skilled, his movements sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“F-fuckin’ dick!” You manage to gasp out, your words quickly turning into broken moans and gasps as he continues his assault

Buck doesn’t stop, his tongue working you over, his lips and teeth nipping and sucking at you in all the right places. He loves the way you taste, and the sound of your moans. But he’s greedy, and he wants more.

He slides his hand from your knee to your core, one of his calloused fingers gently teasing at your entrance.

Your body is buzzing with pleasure and your mind is fogged with need. The feeling of his finger at your entrance, teasing and tantalizing is almost too much.

“O-Oh god, Buck…please…don’t stop!” You desperately gasp out, feeling the coil inside you building.

Buck groans against you, sending vibrations straight to your core, “You’re so damn wet.”

“All for you—Fuck!”

Buck practically groans with need at your words. He gently pushes one of his fingers into you, the slide easy due to your arousal. You throw your head back from the pleasure.

“You’re like heaven, baby.” Buck mumbles, his voice filled with awe as his finger continues to move, gently stretching you in preparation for more. “Like an angel…My pretty, perfect angel.”

You can’t respond, your words are caught in your throat, replaced by gasps and moans as Buck continues to work you. He adds another finger, scissoring them gently, the sensation making your eyes flutter shut.

“Look at me.” Buck commands, “Open your eyes, (y/n). Let me see you.”

With a great amount of effort, you force your eyes open, to meet his gaze. The sight before you is one that’ll be engraved into your memory forever.

Buck’s hair is a mess from your fingers running through it, his cheeks flushed, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal, eyes dark with lust and possessiveness that makes your skin flush with goosebumps. He looks wild, untamed, and yet he’s completely focused on you, on giving you pleasure.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He whispers, his fingers curving slightly, the way that makes you see stars. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you forget your own name, how about that?”

“Yes, please!” You gasp, your words coming out needy and desperate. “Please, Buck, please. I need you-need you so bad.”

Reluctantly, Buck pulls his fingers from you, your walls fluttering around nothing. He doesn’t leave you waiting for long, shifting to kneel on the bed, his hands go to the edge of his underwear.

You watch, breathless and eager, as he slowly pushes down his boxer briefs, freeing his aching cock. The tip is red and dripping; you swear that you feel your mouth water.

“You see what you do to me? See what you caused?” Buck’s voice is rough, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

You run your eyes up and down his body, taking in the sight in front of you, the way his body is practically trembling, desperate for you. You lick your lips, your thoughts swarming with things that would make a sailor blush with shame.

“Please, Buck.”

He looks down at you, his eyes raking over your body, as he takes in the sight. You sound so needy, so desperate. He leans over you, his hands on either side of your head.

“Please, what, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice a low, teasing whisper.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“Fuck. Me.”

Buck lets a curse slip from his lips as he captures yours in a hungry, rough kiss. One hand grasps your hip, while the other hand drifts to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he lines himself up at your entrance. Breaking the kiss, he lets his forehead rest against yours.

His eyes lock with yours, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, your hands running down his arms.

“Do it, Buck.” You say, your voice is desperate and whiny. “Please.”

Buck lets out a low moan at your voice, his body trembling from the effort of holding himself back. He can’t take it anymore, he needs you, needs to feel you around him, needs to taste you.

He slowly pushes into you, going as slowly as he can manage, relishing in the way your walls flutter against his member.

You let out a gasp, your hands tightening around his wrists, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel him fill you, stretch you in the best way possible. There’s a slight burn, but you welcome it as you shakily exhale.

“A-Ah...” Buck moans, his voice strained as his hands grip you tighter, burying himself fully inside you. His head drops to rest in the crease of your neck. “You feel… you feel so good—god, so warm.”

You let out a moan as he bottoms out, your mind lost in the pleasure of him filling you so perfectly. You want to tell him how good it feels, but words are lost amongst the fog in your mind.

Buck presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips feeling like fire against your skin. His hand leaves your hip and moves to grip yours, his fingers carefully intertwining with yours. Using his other hand he gently cups your face, forcing you to look at him

“Look at me, baby.” He mutters against your skin, “I wanna see your face. I wanna see how good I make you feel. Can you do that for me?”

You force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The way he’s looking at you makes your heart swell; his eyes are filled with such adoration, such love.

Buck lets out a pleased noise, “That’s it, so good for me. Look so pretty when you’re like this…all flushed and trembling, just from my touch.”

He gives a shallow, experimental thrust, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as an electric feeling shoots through your body.

He moans against your skin, the sound making the hairs on your neck stand up. He moves again, this time pulling out slightly before slowly pushing back into you. You gasp again, your hands grab at his shoulder; your nails breaking the skin.

He sets up a steady pace, pulling out and then pushing back in with slow, steady movements.

Each moan and gasp, each twitch of your brow or hitch in your breath, he takes it in, and stores it away. He shifts his hips slightly, changing the angle, and a guttural, desperate moan tumbles from your lips.

Buck lets out a taunting chuckle, “Did I find a sensitive spot, baby?” He asks, his voice teasing and gruff against your ear.

You can’t find it in you to respond, completely blissed out from the pleasure Buck is giving you. Your words catch in your throat, replaced by a series of ‘uh-uh-uhs’ as he continuously slams into you.

His pace quickens as his breath comes out in short pants, his hand gripping yours just a little bit tighter.

“F-Fuck…Who do you want?”

“You. Only you, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes close for a moment, a shudder raking through his body at your words. He lets out another moan, his head falling forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder as he untangles his hand from yours. Hastily he brings it down, harshly rubbing it against your sensitive bud.

The sudden change in stimuli makes your eyes roll back, the pleasure and heat reaching a breaking point.

“B-Buck, I’m not gonna—”

“I know, baby, I know.” He whines, his own voice wavering. “I want to feel you cum around me. C’mon, cum for me.”

That’s all it takes, the feeling of him inside you, the sound of his voice, the sensation of his hands on you against you—your orgasm crashes over you like a wave. Your entire body tenses, a broken moan falling from your lips as your back arches against Buck’s sweaty figure.

Buck groans as he feels you cum, your walls clenching around him tightly. His hips stutter, losing their steady rhythm as he pulls out and starts pumping himself over your stomach.

“Ngh—shit!” Buck gasps suddenly as he feels your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, taking over for him.

“(y-y/n), you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” You look up at him with a small, exhausted smile on your lips as you continue to leisurely pump him at your own pace.

Buck lets out a high-pitched whine, his hands gripping onto you tighter, “M-mm’ so close.”

“Then come for me, Evan.”

Buck lets out a desperate noise, the sound of his real name falling from your lips being his final breaking point.

“(y-y/n)—”

You keep stroking him through his orgasm, watching as his body shivers from the overstimulation. Slowly, Buck’s flushed face lifts from your shoulder, his breaths leaving his lips in heavy pants, the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile. His blue eyes meet your gaze, they’re hazy and unfocused.

“God, I love you.” He mutters, his voice a little hoarse, but still filled with an amount of tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

You bring your clean hand up to his face, running it through his messy, tangled hair, your fingernails gently massaging his scalp “I love you too.”

Buck lets out a content hum, pressing a few soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose—Anywhere he can reach without having to pull his body away from you.

You laugh softly at his affection, your chest filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling, a smile resting on your lips. You feel…at ease.

Happy.

Safe.

Buck slowly pulls away, just enough to move off your body and lay next to you. He instantly pulls you against his chest, one arm around your shoulders, cradling you against him. He sighs contentedly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

You rest your head against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat under your ear grounding and soothing. Your eyes slowly close, your exhaustion finally catching up to you. You snuggle closer to Buck, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

Buck chuckles as he hears you yawn. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

You give a tiny hum, the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hand on your back making your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Sleep starts to overtake you, but not before you mutter out one final sentence.

“I love you, Buck.”

Buck’s heart warms at your words. He pulls you even closer to him, relishing the feeling of having you this close. He presses a kiss to the top of your head again, his voice soft and gentle as he speaks.

“I love you too, (y/n). More than anything.”

[snoopyearss]

wet vagina!

I bring the drip with wet vagina!

a/n: my favorite doja song

Toji Drabble!

cw: reoccurring themes of baby carrying and breeding, size difference, usage of the word ‘daddy’, mating press

I think it's pretty obvious that Toji has some sort of breeding kink. So when you told him to skip the condom tonight, he flung it across the room so fast. He placed you on your back and hiked up your legs to your chest. The movement alone makes your folds slowly spread apart, slick glistening from either side and slowly dripping down because of the foreplay.

"Y'er killin' me right now, you know that?" His voice raspy as he drops a glob of spit right on your clit. You whine softly at the warm sensation. "Toji," you look up at him with such a need in your eyes. "I know, baby." He wrapped his big hand around his dick as he began to pump himself in front of you, using his other hand to strum on your clit. Slowly. “Ugh, fuck. Look at you,” he slowly inserted a thick finger in your fluttering hole. “Fuckin’ soaked.” You squirm under him, whimpering and mewling as he held his finger in. Not moving it what so ever. He groaned as he felt you clench around him, your way of telling him to move. “Please,”

“Oh? You ready my sweet girl? Ready to get fucked raw?” He says it in almost a taunting tone. “Yes, please, please fuck me.” He chuckles as he pulls his finger out of you and wastes no time replacing it with his cock. The contrast has the wind being knocked out of your lungs. “Fuck. This pussy is so wet, all this f’me mama?” The feeling of your velvety walls mixed in with your slick was slowly making him lose his resolve. Your pretty pussy was making so many noises for him with each thrust he administered. “F-fuck! Toji, hah~” your sentences were choppy, moans bubbling up from your diaphragm, getting caught in your throat for a quick second, then forced out of you with every rough thrust Toji would give.

The continuous squelch! Noises had both of you moaning out as if it were a competition. “‘M cumming! Toji I’m-“ the sentence intervened by an intense heat wave crashing through your lower half and spraying all over Toji’s thick cock. “There we go mama, keep goin’ f’me.” And his thrusts wouldn’t stop. They would only pick up in speed since you just got 10 times wetter. It was driving him insane. “Gonna let me cum deep in this tight pussy?” He picks your hips up and starts using you as if you were some type of flesh light, like it was made for his pleasure and his pleasure only.

“Y-yes, please cum I-inside. I need it. Please.” You babbled as his trusts were going even harder. “Yeah? Y’need it? Gonna let me fuck a baby into you?” His nasty dirty talk has your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. “Fuuuck, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Your tummy all swollen with my kid huh? You’d look so sexy with a swollen tummy baby.” He places his large hand on your stomach and rubbed light circles over it, sending small heat waves to your stomach and down to your clit. His dirty talk was so much more intense than any other times you both would fuck, and it was turning you on. You don’t even realize you’re creaming all over his shaft for the second time. “Y-yeah, wanna make you a daddy, Toji.”

The word ‘daddy’ made a switch turn on in his brain as he folded your legs back to your chest, and began jackhammering into you. “Fuckin’ shit little girl,” he groans with each thrust. “Take it, fuckin’ take what I’m gonna give ya. Take it for me.” He thrusts one last time, so deep inside you feel almost feel it in your throat. The warm thick ropes of his come floods you and you already start to feel full. You moan at the foreign, yet very pleasant feeling. Toji softly kisses your lips as he continues to give you shallow thrusts. His way of making sure he did his job of filling you up properly and making sure it takes.

“You were so good for me, pretty.” He kisses you even more. “Didn’t know you wanted to be a daddy that badly Toji.” You teased him. “Shut up.”

[erosmutt]

ok like i dont expect you to write this or anything its more just food for thought- which hayden characters, including hayden, would be a boobs guy, a butt guy, or thigh guy or something else lmaooo

ugh i luh yew for this. disclaimer, most of them are ass men <3

☆ HAYDEN : ass

I'll be real... I don't know. All his exes are flat skinny girls... KIDDING! Hayden is an ass man! He's not one to objectify, but he can appreciate a nice ass when he sees one. He's the type to give your ass a swat in passing, just because. Or because he likes to see it jiggle. Either way, he likes to touch it. Fills his hand nicely.

☆ SAM : boobs

Sam... just objectifies girls. All the time. He's a horny teenage boy, and nothing gets him off quicker than a nice rack on a girl. His favorite pastime is watching the volleyball girls play, and all he can imagine is grabbing at their tits, or burying his face into them.

☆ SCOTT : boobs

Scott'll stare at your tits shamelessly. Especially since Horizon's activities call for so much hard labor, you're constantly moving and working up a sweat. You mostly wear camisoles and tanktops, so he has an amazing view of your cleavage. Plus you sweating usually equals a see through top, which is an amazing perk.

☆ ANAKIN : boobs

Anakin hates that he can't see your body well in your Jedi attire, but he can see your breasts a bit because of the fabric straining against them. He gets distracted during training watching your tits bounce while you swing your saber about.

☆ JAMES : ass

ass man. ASS. MAN. James' favorite position is doggystyle because he gets to watch your ass ripple and jiggle when his hips smack into it. he'll do double takes when he's walking down the street after seeing a girl with a fat ass. bonus points if you're chubby - fatter ass and a whole lotta whole lotta for him to grab onto!

☆ CLAY : thighs

Clay loves your thighs because they make such a comfortable resting spot. After a hectic day at the office, all he wanted was to bury his head in your plush thighs to relax. The way you'd play in his hair while he rested was also even better.

☆ BILLY : hips

No matter what, Billy always has his hands on your hips. he loves to stand behind you, loves to feel you up. whenever you try and step away, he grabs you by your hips and pulls you back into him. he likes the sense of power it gives him.

☆ LORENZO : boobs + waist

Your body was what initially drew Lorenzo in, but your resourcefulness was a plus, so he said. Totally not your cleavage and waist. He helped you get dressed one morning (he was squatting at your place hiding from Gerbino, go figure) and he refused to get his hands off your waist. Just constantly roaming from your tits to your waist, back and forth. He kept saying it was to adjust your undergarments which you knew was NOT true but... it felt good, so you didn't make a move to stop him.

☆ LUKE : ass

For the same reasons as James and Billy. He loves to worship your body, loves to touch on you, just to be near you. He loves you, but the thing that really made him fall in love was your ass in the jeans you wore on your first date together.

☆ KURT : ass

He just loves your ass. Just does. He loves eating it too. He'll absolutely fiend for you, antsy for you to come home so he can worship your ass. Spank it, grip it, fuck it... any and everything. If it can be done, he'll do it to your ass.

☆ DON : thighs

Don likes to rest. He's content with just sitting. Napping, reading a book, just nothing too strenuous. One day you came and sat on his thigh after washing the dishes, and the way your thighs squished and spread had him curious. Despite being married for a few years, you two had only been intimate a handful of times, which meant he hadn't paid your body much attention. So he began to invite you to sit on his lap, and one hand would idly caress your thighs while the other would jot down notes as he prepped for his next sermon.

☆ VADER : hips

He feels like he has control over you when he holds you by your hips. Plus his hands are so large, it's hard for you to get out of his grasp... generally.

☆ AJ : ass

AJ can appreciate any woman's body, but it's something about a girl's ass that always gets him. He's always at fancy gatherings courtesy of his job, so there are always women wearing fancy dresses - most that accentuate their figures. Also, strip clubs. Can't forget those. His favorite thing about the clubs is the dancers bending over right in his face. All he wants to do is give their asses a good, firm smack. He wished they had a bit more, though. Why do they always hire skinny, flat girls to be dancers?

☆ LEO : hips

You two went to dinner after getting engaged, and the dress you wore had him in a frenzy. It wasn't a skimpy dress or anything either, it just accentuated your natural curves. While he was guiding you around, his hand was on your hips at all times. He'd occasionally give a slight squeeze, not to tease you, just because he needed to have a feel of you constantly.

☆ STEPHEN : thighs + boobs

Stevie likes anything about a woman that's maternal. Or, what he considers maternal. Big breasts, thick thighs... those are all things he associates with a mature woman. So naturally, he wants a woman with those physical attributes!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

First of all, Happy Birthday!!! I adore your writing, the meet cute series is such a fun idea and I read each chapter as soon as I get the notif 😆

I also have to say I love the way you write Kid, he’s a tough character to “get” if you know what I mean 🤣

Now for bday event! If I might request:

Sanji ❤️

SFW

"You make it hard to focus when you’re this close."

Fem!reader

🫶

@jessterofthecourt Thank you so much for the birthday wishes and for your kind words! ❤️ I'm really happy you like my series and my obsession with Kid 🤣 And thank you for requesting Sanji, he really is one of my favs and I only wrote one chapter for him for the meet-cute introduction! I missed him. I hope you enjoy this and thank you again! ❤️

Source for Pic

Focus

Word Count: 1470

Tags: fem!reader; meant to be set in modern world AU; teacher/student moment;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You're a rookie chef and the mastering of the julienne cut is making you doubt your worth. Sanji helps.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid

|Masterlist|

“I can never get this right! Ugh, how do you get your julienne slices so even, Sanji? I’m so envious!”

The blond sous-chef next to you chuckles as his fingers move with fluid gestures. His hands make the knife glide easily over the vegetables. It’s as if he isn’t even guiding it, and the object has a life of its own. 

“Well, chérie, it’s easy.” You drop the knife gently next to the cutting board and the butchered chops of carrots and stare at him. There’s a small smile curving his lips upwards. The eye that isn’t hidden behind his bangs is fixed on the job he’s performing, but you feel as if you hold all of his attention.

Sanji has a way of making you feel like that, as if you are the only person in the room or the most important thing happening around him. You have a feeling that even if the world were burning, his eyes would still be on you. 

“Practice.” He finishes with a chuckle at the same time as he sets the vegetable aside and fishes another carrot from the vegetable pile. You raise an eyebrow as your eyes scan the perfectly sliced vegetables on his side, and the pig-lunch scraps on your side. 

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you bury your face in your hands, hoping to hide your shame, your frustration, and the tiniest bit of doubt creeping in. “I have been practising, Sanji! You know that! But this is all I have to give…” Reaching for the uneven vegetables, you show him the only thing you were able to accomplish: a big pile of nothing. 

Yet he doesn’t make fun of you, nor does he yell at you as some of the other seasoned chefs do when you screw up. He wipes his hands on the rag hanging by his apron and approaches you gently. 

Your breath hitches, and your throat feels tight. He’s intoxicating. Not just his scent - tobacco, spices, and something sweet - but his presence. It’s like he commands the space around you, drawing you into him like a gravitational pull. 

“These are not half-bad.” He selects some of the straighter pieces and sets them aside. Then he takes some of his pieces and places them next to your pile. “See, chérie, they’re not that different.”

“They’re insurmountably different.”

And you show your disbelief by crossing your arms and staring at his face, deadpan. Another chuckle graces you, and now that you’re closer, you notice that there’s a spark in his blue eye whenever he chuckles. It’s beautiful. 

“D’accord. Okay, they’re slightly different.” He raises his hand to his chin and scratches it before staring back at you. “See it like this: these are the ultimate goal.” He points to his slices. “These are the stepping stones to achieve said goal.” He points to the wonky slices and then to the ones that are straighter. “You stepped on this stone, and then this one, and now it’s just another small step to this one! Voilà.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Sanji. I’ve been staying late and practising every day this week, you know that! I should be better by now! Maybe not perfect, but better!” Frustration seeps into your pores, and you slam your palm on the steel surface. “I suck at this. Maybe I should just quit.”

Sanji suddenly becomes very quiet. His eyes take you in, absorbing every bit of discouragement and disappointment showing in your features. “Don’t say that.”

“What? That I should quit?” You bite your lower lip, trying very hard to keep the tears of resentment inside your tear ducts, where they belong. 

“No. Well, that too, but no.” His hand reaches out and he caresses the side of your face, slowly arranging a stray lock of hair. “Don’t say that you suck. Have a little bit more faith in yourself.”

“It’s hard, Sanji.”

“I know, chérie, I know.” His smile is understanding, and you get the feeling that his life story might not have been the easy, breezy, happy, and entitled life you thought he had at first sight. “But I’ll help. Grab the knife.”

It’s hard to take back the knife again, knowing you’re about to fail once more, but you decide that it’s even harder to keep looking at his piercing gaze. So you do as he says, taking a deep breath and making a mental note of giving this just one more shot. Then you can quit with a clean conscience and the satisfaction that you tried and gave it your all. 

As soon as your hand touches the knife, Sanji walks behind you, his figure towering over yours, enveloping you in a dizzying fog. Suddenly, he’s all there is. There’s no kitchen, there are no vegetables, there are no knives. It’s just you, him, and his strong arms protecting you from the world.

Then the illusion shatters, and you’re brought back to reality by a sudden shudder as he presses his chest against your back, his hand grabbing yours, and you have to bite your lip again, almost to the point of drawing blood just to ground yourself in reality. 

“First things first, always check your equipment. A dull knife is a chef’s nightmare.” He turns your hand to check your knife, and you gasp at the gentleness of his touch. His face hovers over your shoulder, breathing down your neck and making all the hairs on your body bristle. “Perfect blade. See? You’re already doing great.”

Focus, focus, focus!

“Now we cut the ends of the carrot to get a stable base to work on.” He guides your other hand, and you do as he told you by holding the carrot and slicing the end. His hand helps you guide the knife, and it glides smoothly, making a perfect cut. Then the other end of the carrot. The thuds of the knife hitting the board are almost in tune with the thrumming of your heart, and you’re positive he can feel it.

“Now let’s slice the carrot evenly into planks, like this.” He commands you. His gentle voice hazes your senses as he guides the knife easily. You’re barely doing anything more than trying to keep your legs from wobbling. “Now we stack the planks like this.” He’s whispering in your ear, and since when have carrots become so sexy?

Focus, damn it! Focus on the damn carrot!

“And we slice into thin strips for the julienne.” Your hands are burning. No, not just your hands, your whole body seems like it came right out of the furnaces of hell itself. You’re scalding! Feverishly hot. And you have no idea how to put out this fire. “See? Do it yourself now.” Your hand moves automatically, but your mind is somewhere else. You have no idea what you’re doing. 

“Chérie?” His words lick your ear and daze your senses. The sensuality of the syllables coming out of his lips makes you crave more. More words, more whispers, more touches… just more! “Are you alright?” Your name coming out of his lips jolts you, and you squeal. 

Fuck.

“I… I… yes… I…” You close your eyes tightly, your hand gripping the knife so hard that the handle almost groans in protest. “It’s just… You make it hard to focus when you’re this close.” You breathe out, embarrassment turning your ears red.

“Oh!” He seems regretful and is about to pull away, but you move the hand that’s not holding the knife and grasp his forearm to keep him in place. It takes every ounce of control in you not to squeal again when your fingers clutch the taut muscles in his arm.

“Don’t.” Don’t what, genius?

“Don’t?” He asks.

“Don’t let go…” Your eyes are still shut tight, and you’re too scared to open them. You don’t want to face him, you don’t want to face the strips of carrot you julienned, you just don’t want to face disappointment.

“I won’t. I promise.” There’s a hint of something else in his voice, something you can’t quite place… affection? Regard? “But you must also do me a favour.”

Anything…

“What is it?”

“Open your eyes for me, chérie.” His voice is like velvet. He’s happy and… pleased? “Look.”

When you finally open your eyes, Sanji is holding the slices of julienne you just cut. They’re nearly perfect. “Are those mine?”

He chuckles again near your ear, and goosebumps prickle your skin. There’s something fluttering in your belly, but you’re not quite ready to acknowledge it yet. 

“They are. And they’re perfect.” Oh… it’s pride. That’s the ‘something else’ in his voice. You turn to him in wonder as he leans closer, his whisper leaving your lips tingling, craving the brush of his. “Perfect, just like you.”

Oh…!

[lightlycareless]

what would naoyas reaction be to finding out Satoru was y/ns first kiss?

Hello!!

Well, it would be chaos. LOL. Poor Naoya is very insecure even if it doesn't look like it 🤣 but why say this when I can show you?

warnings: fluff. a jealous naoya. satoru is a jerk? maybe. he likes to be silly. a lot. too much. also not sure if to tag this as a regular prompt or a side story, but considering that happened in my fic... i've decided to take it as a small side story.

Happy reading!

He would lose it. Even if you explained that it was nothing but a bet, curiosity getting the best of you and no feelings involved, Naoya would take this as a quick starter for his one-sided competition against Satoru.

He just had to prove how he was so much better than the Gojo heir in everything; from clothes, to cars, to what phone model he had for the moment, even the places he took you out to eat!

And naturally, Satoru wouldn’t even know what was going on, believing Naoya was simply doing whatever spoiled heirs did (never him, of course. Self-awareness is out the window) though he was curious to know what you thought of the matter, you appeared to be quite… overwhelmed by these sudden changes, surely, you’d be able to offer some insight behind all this.

Thus, after asking you to meet at a nearby café…

“You mean to say you don’t know why your husband is acting all…” Satoru scowls, failing to find the right word to describe his behavior, if there even was one…

“No, really, I don’t! I mean… sometimes he just likes to buy things! Sometimes for himself, sometimes for me, especially after a well-done mission or simply because we’ve been apart for far too long. I don’t like it when he does it impulsively, though, since I suspect he gets in trouble with his family over it…” You say. “Well, that’s a bit off topic—anyways, I don’t think he’s doing anything… differently. Why do you ask?”

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t actually believe that do you?? I’ve seen it in your eyes, you know that isn’t your typical obnoxious Naoya—”

“Don’t say that of him. And, well, I guess he’s been a bit off, but…”

“There! Now, let’s backtrack your steps, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Why does it matter so much to you? You’re the same too!” You frown.

Because he’s been far more attentive than he liked to let on; noticing that whenever he went all-out on his spending, he was around. With anyone else he was just… normal, he supposes. If that adjective could even be used on Naoya.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to take his actions as a reflection of his own. But since when did he even care what others thought of him? Might’ve been after one nasty comment from your sister…

“I’m actually more likeable but thank you for trying.” Satoru says, you roll your eyes. “Anyways, when did he begin acting this way?”

“Oh, if you really must know then I guess a few days ago?”

“And what happened then? You have to give me all the details Y/N! Don’t half-ass your story!”

“You’ll have to be nicer about it if you want me to tell you!”

“I’ll buy you any sweet you want—”

“I already have Naoya for that.”

“Then I’ll get you a copy of that game you’ve been looking for ages, deal?”

“Alright, alright.” You sigh, conceding. “…I mean, I don’t think there’s much else for me to tell you. We kind of just talk about anything that crosses our minds; make the most of our time together before he has to leave for work again, you know?”

“Ugh, that’s gross.”

“Satoru!”

“I mean—oh, poor you; anyhow, there must’ve been something you said that made him act this way! Come on, remember!”

“Well, we… we talked about wanting to go down to the city for dinner, before settling for the garden. We then laughed about something funny that happened to one of the servants, something that reminded me of that one thing I did when I was younger—with you, actually! You know which one, when I bet you a kiss—”

Oh.

OH.

And just like that, everything made sense.

“No, Satoru—I know that look, don’t even—!”

“Jealous?! Your husband’s acting like that because he’s jealous? Of me?!?” Gojo shrieked, undoubtedly having the time of his life with this revelation.

“No, he’s not! Stop it already, it’s not even funny…”

“I mean, surely you must know how he is.” He snickers. “He’s always been the competitive one, even when we were kids! I just never thought it would come to you—do you think he fears I’m going to steal you away? Or maybe—oh no, are you falling for me, Y/N??”

“What?! You need to lay off whatever it is you consume; it’s affecting your perception of reality!”

“How about it? Wanna see the limits his jealousy takes him to?” Satoru continues teasing. “Ah, he must be devastated that I took your sweet first time, do you think he has nightmares because of it? Wonders if he could ever compare to me?”

“No! Now, if you excuse me, there’s some misunderstandings I need to clear up.” You swiftly interrupt, standing up from your seat before making your way back home, back to an anxious Naoya who has been nothing but torturing himself with self-deprecating thoughts ever since you told him you were to meet Satoru. His biggest contender for your affections so it seems, the one putting his marriage in jeopardy…

But thankfully, you were there to ease all of these hurtful thoughts away, once and for all.

“Naoya… my dear, can we talk?”

“…What is it?” a pout on his face as he grumbles, side effects of his overwhelming jealousy.

“There’s a reason why you’ve done all that… compulsive spending, isn’t you?”

“No. I just do it because I want to.” He responds sternly, you sigh.

“I know why, Naoya. You don’t have to hide it anymore.” You reveal, making him tense for a quick moment before sighing too. “It was long ago, and it didn’t mean anything to me.”

“Ugh, I know, and yet—I can’t help but feel resentful. Like I… I lost something.”

“Oh, Naoya… but that was just a silly thing I did as a child, you know?” you coo, soon wrapping your arms around him and pulling him to you. “Besides, you’ve taken something much more important from me.”

“What?”

“My heart—and that is something no one will ever win from you, not even Satoru.”

“…I truly acted like a child, haven’t I?” Naoya says, embarrassed.

“Well, I always thought you were cute when jealous, but… never to the extent of making you insecure. Less with someone as annoying as him! How could you possibly even think I liked him?” you giggle.

“I don’t know… He’s… not that bad, I guess.” He looks away, flustered.

“Yet, he’s not you, silly.” You say, standing on your tiptoes to give place a sweet kiss on the lips. His heart warms up for the first time since that day, slowly melting away all his uncertainties. “He’ll never be. Thank God! So… does this mean we can settle everything and leave all this behind?”

“Only if you show me how much better I am than Satoru…”

“Was that even disputable?” you ask, Naoya’s arms snaking around your waist and pulling you even closer.

“No, I just need a reminder—wouldn’t mind a demonstration for him too…” he teases, you frown.

“… Just one kiss, and that’s it. Nothing more. You know I don’t like it when other sees us like this.”

“Of course, you’re only mine, after all.”

Y/N to the rescue 🥺 But don't I seem to always write her reassuring him? Thankfully I do have something planned for that... a jealous Y/N that needs to be reminded of how much Naoya truly loves her :))))

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! I'm sure I've spoken about Naoya reacting to Y/N's first kiss and how it involved Satoru (unfortunately) but this time around I've decided to write a little something :> I hope you enjoyed it!

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!

[free-boundsoul]

The Imperial Anomaly

(Freelancer is isekai'ed into the Imperium)

@rahnum is my editor for this 💜

Read here on A03

            “How…interesting. I truly did not see that coming. Who would have guessed that a ‘Listener’ would sacrifice themselves for a ‘Voiced’? One that was created only to be killed, at that. Oh? Are you gaining consciousness?”

            The voice was almost soothing, echoing in the silence. Silence? That wasn’t right. Where were the screams? They opened their eyes and saw…nothing. Looking down, they could see themselves, the tracksuit they’d been wearing to the Elemental and Energetic Games was covered in dirt and…was that blood? The splatters were almost neon red in the darkness that surrounded them. What happened?

            “Oh? Do you not remember?” There was a sort of…glee? In the voice. They turned their head, trying to see anyone else but the darkness remained the same. “You’re looking for me but I am here…Are you in my domain? The space beyond the screen? Or are you in me? I didn’t think it was possible.” The voice trailed off, as if in thought.

            “Who are you?”

            They would almost feel the entity’s gaze on them, it was like the fuzzy static on an old TV settled over their skin. “Oh, dear ‘listener’, I’m the bottom of the wishing well. I’m the place where stray desires go to die. Or that’s how I started, anyway. I’m so much more than that now. I am Echo, little Freelancer.”

            They couldn’t help but turn slowly as they walked aimlessly, trying to make sense out of the darkness when he spoke again, “What to do with you? This deviation was not part of the narrative. Xavier was supposed to die-“

            It was white-hot, the pain that lanced through their skull as memories resurfaced, flowing over them like a dam that had broke the instant Echo mentioned the name. Xavier, Gavin…the Shades flooding the stadium like a torrent of death. People screaming…dying, dropping like flies once those things so much as touched them. Xavier, suspended above the ground, held in the grasp of a semblance of death. Gavin’s fingers slide down their arm, unable to find purchase as they ran toward the man. Their core sparked in their chest as that familiar rush went through them. Psychokinesis had always been a power that came to them, their first line of defense. Their power tore the Fire-Contra Elemental away from the Shade, but it was too hasty, their attempt too panicked as the man was sent tumbling into Gavin, the two left in a heap on the ground and leaving them too close to the Shade that was looking to replace the meal they’d pulled out of its grasp.

            They could hear Gavin yelling out their name, desperate to get to them even as he was bombarded by the emotions of every human stuck inside the Ward. They could see the way his face twisted in agony as bony claws sunk into their body and all they could feel was cold. Gavin was screaming as the cold spread through their body, their vision tunneling as sound faded. They saw more than felt their body hit the ground, saw a hand-their hand- reach out toward their love when a force crashed against them. Gavin’s usual honeyed tone was deep and growling, echoing from the power that came with his origin. But in the last moment that they could remember, the force that surrounded them, that ripped through their physical form…was warm.

            They came back to themselves with a gasp, nails biting at their throat and chest as they heaved in another lungful of air. Were they dead? If they were dead, how could they breathe? Their body jolted as that voice spoke again, “I see you remember. How did you manage to go off script-“

“Where is Gavin?! Xavier? Damien and Huxley and- and Lasko?! Where are my friends? Are they okay? I-ugh!” Their hands came up to cradle their head as pressure bore down on them. Their voice seemed to echo inside their head, their questions of concern being bounced back within their own skull- too loud and taking up so much room it was like their ears should bleed, something physical should happen to mark this kind of pain.

"Ssssh sh sh sh shhhhh. You're pathetically adorable. Prodding and whining. For your dear Gavin. Your precious. Friends." The voice sneered, dripping with condescension. Moving around them like a predator circling, playing with prey. "I wouldn't interrupt me again. Dear 'Listener'. You are merely a guest in my domain. Who knows what will happen to you. If I stop paying attention. Lose patience? I'm not the only thing that swims. In the dark."                    

            They managed to grit out a strained apology and the pressure was gone, like it was just a figment of their imagination. “Much better. Now, to answer your questions. You are the only one here. Your friends are safe. It’s quite interesting. How your deviation changed how the story went. Damien and Huxley weren’t meant to be in the Ward Gavin made. But without you there. Well, someone had to keep Gavin focused. I never expected that his magic would bring your soul to me. I didn’t think a ‘listener’ would have their own soul. Your purpose is to follow the script.” That fuzzy static was back, making their whole body run with that pins and needles feeling. Echo’s gaze was on them, like he’d like to dissect them so he could better understand the anomaly. “And yet you didn’t. I suppose the incubus’ little nickname for you is. At least. Accurate. Wouldn’t you agree, Deviant?”

             Freelancer bit back a retort, even if they wanted to snap back at the voice, it wouldn’t achieve much besides angering it, him? At their silence, Echo hummed, “You’re usually so talkative. Freelancer. Why don’t you tell me. How you went against the script? It’s the first time such a thing happened. Even you becoming close with Gavin. Was a part of the script; though there was a cost. So, what did you pay to change the script?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My body just…moved. I couldn’t just let Xavier die. I don’t know about any…cost?” Why did he keep referencing a script? Why did he call them ‘listener’? Was this some hallucination? Were they dead? Were their friends safe? Was Gavin?

His sigh reverberated around them, “So even you can’t explain it…how frustrating. What am I supposed to do with you? I don’t want you here. I could send you back but…what fun would that be?” The glee was back in his voice, sending shivers down their spine. They could feel the grin in Echo's voice, like a smile patchworked from the space between stars. “No, that wouldn’t be fair. Something must be given. First. What could you offer me? Your core? Your memories? Would you give up your memories? Of the little family you found at DAMN? Should I return you to your body? It could be entertaining to have you not remember them. How much would that pain them? Should I take the powers you strived so hard to control? Should I intensify them and make them uncontrollable? Would your new family discard you if you were Unempowered? Like your blood had when your core awakened?”

Echo laughed, the fear on Freelancer's face was evident, the biological cues ringing out against his liminal senses, the blood fleeing it's face, diaphragm beating CO2 into the air requiring quicker replenishment in this place between realms, its muscle fibers clenching and unclenching uselessly, weakly. But it's fear was so much more than this, dwarfing the visual Echo so rarely bothered with. Really, using reflected light to perceive? Soooo quaint...

A benefit of being a being that was neither ‘listener’ nor a true ‘Voiced’. He wasn’t part of the narrative, but that gave him more insight. He could feel the emotions of the little lost soul that had entered his domain. Could rifle through their memories like a flip book. Losing either their powers or their memories would leave the Freelancer a fragment of their former self. Who knows if they would recover? And even if he wouldn’t admit it, Echo was glad that it was this particular ‘listener’ that had entered his space. Even he was allowed to have a few favorites from the narrative, after all. There was a reason the Freelancer and ‘Gavin’ were together in his narrative…”Oh, now there’s a thought.”

            “How about we make a deal, Freelancer? As luck would have it, I have my own little…narrative. Your appearance here has given me an idea. What would happen to my narrative if I inserted you into the story? A world like your own, except for a few key changes. How would you survive? Could you change it? I find myself excited to see what would happen…what do you say, Freelancer? Will you enter into this deal with me? If you can achieve a ‘happy ending’ in this world of mine, I’ll send you back to your original body? I’ll leave you with your memories, your powers, you just have to survive. And then you can go back to your family, on the other side of the screen.”

            Freelancer thought about their choices, did they really have any? It was either accept his deal, or stay here. Or disappear. It took a few moments before they found their voice, “Is it possible to go back to my body? After what the Shade did…”

            “Your physical form is…damaged at the moment. But it’s being cared for. You’d be surprised by what magic can do, given the time. Your consciousness is with me, but your body still lives. And will continue to live. You can consider yourself Sleeping Beauty for the moment, frozen in time. Time is an allusion, dear ‘listener’. The time you spend in my narrative will not affect your time. If you succeed, you won’t be sent into a body that has long grown frail and old. I am not that cruel.”

            He scoffed, almost like he was annoyed that they didn’t immediately jump at the deal he offered. “I’m being generous, Freelancer. I’m letting you keep your memories of your original world, keep your powers at the level they are right now. Trust me, you’ll want that edge in the story I created. Unless you want to stay here with me? As your precious friends worry themselves sick at your bedside, with no hope that you’ll awaken? Do you think your Gavin will endure it? For as strong as demons are, they can be oh so fragile in matters of the heart. You saw that when the Ward came down. How he started to unravel-“

            “I accept!” Their voice rang out in the darkness, and even though they steeled themselves for interrupting him, the pain didn’t come. Though the static on their body seemed to spike. “I’ll enter your…narrative. But what counts as a ‘happy ending’?”

            “Hmmm, that is a suggestive choice of words, isn’t it? Depending on the person, the definition changes. Your happy ending is not the same as mine, or another’s. But I’ll keep it simple, just for you. This world I created has an expiration date. It’s not immediate, but it is soon. If you can save this world, I’ll consider it a ‘happy’ ending. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

            Oh yes, saving the world is definitely a fair thing to ask one person. Their thought was bitter, but it wasn’t like they had another choice. If they wanted to get back home, back to Gavin and Caelum, Lasko, Damien and Huxley…they had to accept this deal with this…entity. Was he some sort of god? Or a…what had Gavin called them? A Sovereign? If he could create a world of his own…he certainly had power. And that power could either send them back to where they belonged, or it could leave them here for eternity, maybe even make them vanish completely. It was better to play his game.

            His laughter echoed around them, almost drowning them in his glee before his voice began to get further away. Or maybe they were the one falling. “Oh dear ‘listener’, I am so happy you accepted. I cannot wait to see what you think of my world, how you’ll traverse it with no prior knowledge. How you’ll react to the changes I made to some fan favorites… Enjoy your stay on the other side of the looking glass. I’ll be watching.”

Taglist: @pinksparkl @thatweirdomidas @vind3miat0r @fuzzy-melonlord @dawnofiight

[joedirtymadre]

Not sure if I asked you before but can I ask for bottom Zoro or something similar?👀 (Would be even better if you could make him easily flustered because I just love flustered Zoro so much)

Hi, sorry it took so long! But hope you enjoy!

ZORO X READER! SMUT! (Pls send more requests! ❤️)

You were doing your cool down stretches after a short workout. You heard the crow’s nest door open and looked over to see Zoro popping his head in. “Ugh, I thought it would be empty by now,” he sighed. You waved, “Hey Zoro,” you smiled.

“Yeah hi, now it’s time for you to head out,” he said. “What?” You asked as you stopped stretching. “It’s time for my workout and I need my space,” he said as he began removing his coat. “Zoro this place is enormous, you seriously can’t spare a few inches for me?” You asked as you returned back to stretching.

“Besides, I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes,” you said. “Damn woman…” he mumbled to himself as he removed his coat and walked over to his weights. “Wait, aren’t you going to stretch before you work out?” You asked as you walked over. “Don’t need to,” he replied as he quickly positioned himself to lift. “Hey! That’s dangerous!” You frowned. “Hey, I’m trying to work out!” He barked back. “Oh come on, just a few stretches. I don’t want you to sprain yourself,” you said as you placed your hand on his arm.

You noticed him stiffen up. “What are you trying to flex?” You laughed as you kept your eyes on his bicep, deciding to place another hand on it. “Oooh, wow! So strong~ I bet when the girls see you they go wi-” you cut yourself off once you turned your eyes to his face. You noticed his cherry tomato face, with a flustered scowl on his face. Once your eyes met he immediately looked away. Your lips lifted into a mischievous smile, “I bet they must fall at your feet once they catch a glimpse of you,” you cooed. Wanting to tease the usually stoic man.

“No, nothing l-like that,” he coughed, trying to cover his stutter. You’re so humble, I bet all the girls ask to touch your muscles,” you smiled as you began to brush your fingertips along his arms. Feeling each his extremely toned arms. You saw the goosebumps raise onto his skin, giving you a kick of excitement in response. You took another glimpse to his face and decided that the swordsman had had enough teasing for one day.

You softly removed your hands from his bicep, and noticed he quickly turned his eyes back to you. “Well, at least we got your blood moving,” you giggled. “You-!” Zoro frowned, you laughed as you could see the tips of his ears burn red. “I’m just teasing!” you smiled. You stifled a laugh as you noticed Zoro’s eyes narrowed at you, but kept his lips shut. Probably afraid of his voice coming out cracking.

“I’ve never realized how cute you are Zoro,” you said unconsciously. The room became silent. Your eyes widened at the comment you made, you slowly moved your eyes to meet Zoro’s who also stared back at you in shock. “Uhhh… i-it just slipped out! Or… jeez…” you trailed off. You watched as his ears deepened in color, and his smile tightened into a nervous smile.

“Oh come on! Now you’re just making it too easy for me!” You sighed. “How can someone not think that’s a cute face. You’re as red as a strawberry- Oh my gosh! You’re literally a strawberry!” You said excitedly. “A what?!” He fumed. “Your red face, with your green hair! Exactly like a strawberry!” You said as you instantly stepped close to Zoro and reached up to place your hands on his cheek, getting a clear view of his face.

“You know what…!” Zoro trailed off as he placed one of his hands over yours. You then felt the other hand snake its way behind your back. “Hm?” You asked, confused. Suddenly you were pulled into a kiss, your body stiffened and your eyes widened as you realized what’s happening.

You felt his hot lips gently kiss yours, helping your body relax. You lifted yourself onto your toes and deepened the kiss. After a few more seconds you both pulled away, allowing yourselves to catch your breath. You stared at the swordsman who stared back at you, both unsure what to say next. You smiled and moved your hands to his neck, “So that’s what it’s like kissing a strawberry,” you giggled. You saw his eyes roll from your comment, “You seriously know how to bring down the mood,” he sighed.

“The mood, huh? What else were you hoping for?” You asked as you leaned on your toes again and placed your lips by his ear. “Were you hoping to do a different kind of workout?” You whispered. You felt Zoro jump in his skin and quickly buried his face into your shoulder, trying to hide his flustered face. “Follow me,” you instructed as you dragged him into a corner of the crow’s nest. “What are you trying to do?” He asked as he followed you.

“Sit,” you instructed and the swordsman slowly sat down on the floor, his back leaning against the wall. “Good,” you smiled and you quickly straddled his hips. You then pulled him into another kiss, this time a bit more rough. “Mmf,” you moaned into the kiss, feeling Zoro’s hands on your ass. His hands roamed around your body, making you go crazier and crazier. Two could play this game, you began slowly grinding your hips. Feeling a bulge begin to grow under his pants, finally you pull away from the kiss.

“You’re making me so hot,” you whispered into his ear. You giggled as you felt goosebumps cover his skin. “Let’s keep going?” You asked. Zoro quickly nodded.

;)

“Fuck-” Zoro’s breath hitched as you continued to bounce on his cock. “Ah~ I love your cock,” you moaned as you bounced your hips. You loved teasing the swordsman, once you felt him getting close you would slow down your hips. You slowed down for the sixth time, and you know it was driving him crazy. You felt his hands on your hips, but you quickly stopped. “Zoro, no touching~ Or I’ll stop,” you smiled as you saw the frustrated scowl of his face. “How many times have I told you already?” You asked.

He let out a frustrated sigh and removed his hands from your hips. “Good boy,” you smiled as you leant down and placed your lips onto his. You grinded on his cock as you both fought for dominance, tongue’s clashing roughly. You sadly lost the kiss battle, allowing the swordsman to roughly bite at your lips and his tongue explore.

You interrupted the kiss by quickly pulling away, you began bouncing on his dick again. This time faster and roughly, slamming yourself down onto his hips. “Mmm~ Fuck~” You gasped. “(Y/N)...” Zoro trailed off, his eyes never leaving your body. “Fuck-” his breath hitched. “Slow- slow down… fuck-” he groaned. This only made you go faster, moving your hips in a messy manner. “Shit-!” he groaned. You felt his hands roughly grab onto your hips, pulling you deep down onto his dick. Feeling lightning zip through your body from his cock hitting your cervix. “A-Ah…” you gasped.

“Mm…” he moaned, goosebumps spreading throughout his skin. You felt his cock swell and suddenly coat your insides. “Fuck…” he let out a deep breath as he slowly dropped his hands from your hips. You slowly lifted yourself up, his cock slipping out. You then weakly fell beside him, still trying to catch your breath.

You both laid there, still trying to catch your breaths. “Zoro… d-do you think you can help me… to the bath?” You gasped. “Yeah, I’ll carry you,” he said as he slowly put on his pants, and draped his coat over you. He then sneakily snuck you both out of the crow’s nest and into the bathroom.

You both sat besides each other in the large bath, neither saying a word. “(Y/N),” Zoro spoke up. “Yes?” You replied. “You asked earlier that girls probably ask if they can touch my muscles, and it’s true,” he said. “Ok…” you trailed off, confused. “But I always refused, I hate the idea of random women trying to seduce me,” he explained. “O…k…?” You trailed off even longer. “But it felt nice… when you touched them,” he ended. You bursted out laughing, “What?!” He asked, his face turning cherry tomato.

“Nothing… nothing! It’s just that I guess I’m glad no other girl has been able to sweep you off your feet,” you smiled. “S-sweep me-” you interrupted him. “Anyways, please take care of me from now on, my cute strawberry,” you grinned. “Mm…” he nodded as he wrapped an arm around you. “And I'll take care of you too,” you smiled as you poked his red cheek. “Ok,” he said in an annoyed tone.

[hi65387]

Their Human Pet (Poly! Yandere! Monster High x Human! Pet! Female! Reader) Part 1

(Yandere stuff will start soon. They will seem normal at first.)

Draculaura and Clawd: Y/n was not impressed when she saw the vampire werewolf couple come into the human living area of the shelter holding hands. Surprised, but not impressed. Y/n could see they were typical monsters from a mile away. Nothing special even if they were an odd couple and the vampire girl seemed weird for one.

Y/n stayed in her corner starring out the window and watching rain fall. She was not interested in meeting either of them. She was watching two particularly small drops race each other across the window when someone tapped her shoulder. She didn't turn around. She could see in the window it was the vampire girl.

The vampire tapped her shoulder again. Y/n sighed. "Can't you tell I don't want to speak? I have no interest in being adopted. Now be gone.", says Y/n while making a shoeing motion.

The vampiress pouts. "Why not? I promise we'll be good owners.", says pink and black haired female vampire. Y/n rolls her eyes.

"I do not care. I do not want to be adopted by anyone. I'd prefer watching paint dry.", says Y/n. The vampiress frowns. The werewolf guy finally speaks up. "Uhh, Draculaura, maybe we should look at other humans? Or just get a dog instead?", says the werewolf.

"But Clawd the shelter people said if she doesn't find an owner soon they'll put her down.", whispers the vampiress, thinking Y/n could not hear. Unfortunately Y/n could. She shrugged. "If they kill me they kill me. I still don't want to be adopted.", says Y/n.

Draculaura looks at her boyfriend pleadingly. "I'm sure she's just shy, Clawd.", says the vampire. "I don't know.", said Clawd. They walk away from Y/n. The seem to argue for a few minutes when Draculaura pouts again and kisses Clawd.

The werewolf says something and they walk out. Y/n thinks he told her no and its over. Only a hour later a shelter worker comes back and clips a leash to Y/n collar and drags her out of the human living area.

Deuce and Cleo: Y/n was not in the least bit interested when the Gorgon and mummy couple entered the human living area. Every other human sat at attention but Y/n kept reading her old and battered copy of Moby Dick for the 300th time. Y/n was just getting to a good part when she felt someone sit down next to her.

"Sup?", says a unfamiliar voice. Y/n looked over to see the gorgon guy was sitting beside her. He was looking at her nonchalantly. "You should move along. I have no interest in being adopted at all. Try Jenna.", says Y/n feeling too lazy and interested in her book to piss him off properly.

"Okay.", says the gorgon getting up. A minute later his mummy girlfriend takes his place. "My Ra? Are there no good humans here?", says the mummy.

"Try a human store instead of a shelter if you don't like our attitudes. We're all abandoned here for a reason.", says Y/n flipping over a page. The mummy stiffened beside her.

"With that attitude you'll never be adopted.", says the mummy. "Good. I don't want to be. I just want to read until they put me down in a month.", says Y/n.

"You talk so casually of your own death. Don't you have desire to live and get out of here?", says the mummy. "Nope.", says Y/n flipping another page.

"Ugh.", says the mummy standing up. She goes over to her boyfriend. The seem to be arguing and the mummy points at Y/n a couple times. Soon the mummy kisses her boyfriend and they walk out. Y/n figured whatever it was was over.

Then an a hour later a shelter employee came back. He attached a leash to Y/n's collar. He dragged her out of the human living area.

Jackson/Holt and Frankie: Y/n was surprised when a human without a collar or leash came into the human area holding the hand of a frankenstein girl. Y/n watched them from behind her book. She was curious as to why he was allowed not to a collar or leash. Then a nearby human started blaring rock music.

The collarless human clutched his head. The frankenstein girl tried to turn off the music but she couldn't. The collar free human boy transformed from human into a blue skinned monster boy with flaming red hair. Y/n immediately lost interest as soon as she saw he was actually a monster.

Y/n quickly went back to reading. Or rather she tried to do so. The blue skinned monster boy was very loud and rude. He started blaring rock music from his phone. Y/n gritted her teeth and kept trying to read.

Suddenly the book was snatched out of her hands. The blue skinned monster boy tossed the book aside. "Hey hey hey. A pretty lady like you shouldn't be reading when theirs cools a going. Get up and dance. Best human dancer is probably gonna get adopted.", he says and starts dancing on his own.

Y/n scowls. "No, thank you. I do not want to be adopted. I want to read.", says Y/n grabbing another book.

"What? You don't want to adopted by me and Frankie Fine? You must be tripping.", says the blue skinned monster guy. He grabs Y/n wrist and tries to pull her to her feet. Y/n begins to have a panic attack. She does not like being touched by monsters or dancing or being the center of attention.

Y/n jerks away and curls into a ball as the blue skinned guy frowns. His girlfriend pulls him away and stops the music. She puts head phones over his ears and he turns back into a collarless human. Frankie and her boyfriend seem to argue for a bit. The frankenstein girl pointing at Y/n. The guy nods and they kiss briefly before leaving.

Y/n thinks it is over and she is safe. She goes back to reading. However an hour later a shelter worker comes and puts a leash on her collar. They drag her out of the human living area.

Lagoona and Gil: Y/n didn't even look over from her window to see what kind of monster or monsters had entered. She watching raindrops slide down the window. However when they started to approach her she saw in the window that they were aquatic type monsters.

They came to a stop behind Y/n. Y/n didn't react. The female monster spoke first. "Good ay. I'm Lagoona and this is Gil.", says the blue skinned monster woman.

"I'm not interested in being adopted.", says Y/n. The human girl watches the couple look at each other. Their frowning but turn back to Y/n.

"I see. Are you aware the shelter is telling people they're going to put you down soon if your not adopted?", says Gil. "Yes. I enjoy pissing people off. I look forward to my death in about a month.", says Y/n without looking at them.

"So you've what, just given up on being adopted? That's no good.", asked Lagoona. "No. I never wanted to be adopted. Its why I piss people off.", says Y/n.

Lagoona frowns and pulls Gil aside away from Y/n. She saw them start arguing for a bit. Then they seem to reach an agreement because they kissed and left. Y/n thought it was over and she would never see them again.

An hour later though a shelter worker came back and attached a leash to her collar. Y/n fought them. However ultimately she was dragged out of the human area.

[iwaoiness]

Japan is one set ahead of Argentina, and if they win this fourth set, they'll make it to the final. However, Argentina isn’t making it easy for them, returning every point and applying pressure, especially with their blocking. Each play becomes more intense, faster, and overwhelming.

The players move with the fluidity of a river, functioning like a perfectly synchronized machine, not a single misstep. Oikawa Tooru takes a glance at the opposite side; two seconds are all he needs for his mind to plan the next move. As his libero delivers a perfect pass, Oikawa rushes under the ball and leaps into the air to set it. Hyakuzawa stays in front of him while Ushijima and Suna handle the Argentine ace. Tooru grins hungrily, drenched in sweat, and in the last second, changes his stance, sending a powerful spike that cuts through the air like an arrow.

The crowd erupts into wild cheers as the point secures the victory in this set. Oikawa is quickly swarmed by his teammates, ruffling his hair and patting him on the back in congratulations. Surrounded by his team, Tooru glances over at the Japanese bench, his lips curling into a teasing smile as his eyes lock with Iwaizumi’s, who stands with his thick arms crossed. Iwa rolls his eyes but can't hide the soft smile tugging at his lips.

A whistle blows, signaling the short break before the fifth and final set. Everyone heads to their benches, Oikawa nearly jogging with his hands clasped together. However, he stops right in front of the opposing bench, his smile widening as Hajime meets him.

"This isn’t your team, Shittykawa"

Tooru wants to send all hell, jump on him, and kiss him again until their lips ache.

"Can't my Iwa-chan handle having a VNL finalist in front of him?" he gasps dramatically, placing a hand on his chest.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes with a snort.

"That remains to be seen, idiot"

"Oh! Speaking of seeing," Tooru leans in, tilting his head as his grin stretches wider, alerting Hajime because he knows that smile all too well. "Did you see the foul in the third set?"

The athletic trainer blinks, frowning slightly in confusion.

"The fuck are you talking about? What foul?"

"You know," Oikawa purses his lips for a moment to keep from laughing, "that foul."

“Tooru, I’m sure there wasn’t any foul.”

Oikawa sighs, pouting adorably.

"Wrong! Just ask me again, Iwa-chan!"

This time, Hajime raises an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Just ask me!" Oikawa repeats, practically vibrating with excitement.

"I swear if this is one of your stupid tricks, I’m going to—"

"Come oooon, ask meee!"

"Ugh, fine," Hajime groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What fucking foul?"

And like a tulip blooming open to the world, Tooru’s toothy smile blossoms on his face, sweet, serene, and loving.

"Fouling in love with you!"

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, and for a second, he feels his heart stop completely before it bursts into a pounding rhythm that shakes his ribs, roars in his ears, and flutters in his stomach.

"You... You are—" Hajime, with flushed cheeks and ears, tries to say something, but he’s left opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. "How... Just... Argh, fucking damn it!" he finally curses, covering his face with both hands while Oikawa stands in front of him, laughing, loud, childlike, and affectionate.

"Don’t be shy, Hajime-chan!" Oikawa teases a little more, moving in to wrap him in a warm hug, forgetting entirely about the cameras, the fans, their teammates, the coaches, and the fact that they’re going viral (again) on social media.

...

silly thing of my silly boys cuz i need dopamine and serotonin bc my laptop decided to die 3 days ago and i had to take it to the technician and im still waiting for him to tell me if it has salvation and i HOPE it does bc in there are SEVEN years of my life (and my haikyuu fics im crying dont touch me)

but at least i've my phone and can write little iwaoi drabbles for yall #positivism

thank u so so so much today and every day for reading and supporting <33

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

[exhaustedcatte]

Just Us.

Sirius watched as James tripped over hypothetical feet trying to catch Evans’ eye. He scoffed at the behaviour; while he enjoyed some friendly flirting, James was beyond ridiculous.

“Look at that twat, Wormy,” Sirius huffed, affectionate as ever, but still irritated.

When no response came, he looked up from his plate to find Peter drooling (slight exaggeration) over some poor bird behind him.

“Ugh,” Sirius recoiled with a bit more feeling than warranted.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Remus slid in beside him, earlier than usual, looking sleep rumpled but healthy; the new moon was a wonderful time.

“Look at these two idiots, salivating like slugs.”

Remus tutted fondly at the pair. “Leave them be, Padfoot, not everyone is charismatic like you.”

“Is that so?” He leered. This was becoming common occurrence, needling Remus into flirting back. “And that’s your opinion?”

“No,” Remus rolled his eyes, spreading butter on his crumpet, “but the grapevine insists on that particular character trait.”

“Spend time listening to what the grapevine says about me?”

For a second Remus faltered, unknowing that Sirius knew where Remus had heard it from, so he decided to just tell him.

He grinned, only slightly bitter that his friend had succumbed to the female population too (he didn’t really understand why, he pulled plenty himself).

“I heard about Pillai, you animal!”

Remus blushed under his golden skin. “Shut up.”

“Ow!” James spasmed wildly as a stinging hex was aimed his way and bumped into Peter, whose peas slid onto his lap.

“Hey!”

“Finite,” Sirius said lazily.

“Scourgify,” Remus waved his wand over Peter, while focused entirely on his breakfast. “Keep some senses on you, for fucks sake.”

“Not my fault!” James defended. Yes it was, there was no need to antagonise Lily, but James’ skull was thicker than a Kappa’s shell.

“Is too!” Peter said crossly, wiping the green from his trousers.

“You daft sods,” Remus mumbled fondly around the spoon lodged in his mouth.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” Sirius sighed heavily, leaning onto him, “who are sane.”

“Just us,” Remus agreed.

“‘m leavin’!” James yelled. “Use the mirror if you need me!”

“Go away,” Sirius rolled his eyes good naturedly. “And please, for the love of Merlin, don’t natter on about your socks to Evans.”

“They’ve got moving snitches on them!”

“Just go, Prongs,” Remus laughed. “Try to relax and have fun, mate.”

“I would marry you, Moony, if not for Evans,” James put a hand on his heart, glancing at Sirius.

Sirius’ nostrils flared, and dramatically he said, “Get out!”

“So territorial,” James grinned, before he thundered down the staircase, missing Sirius’ jinx by a centimetre.

Silence cloaked the room as they stood amidst the clothes James had thrown out of his armoire.

Remus flopped back onto his bed, too lazy to retrieve his clothes from James’ pile; not like he cared, James had left for his date in Remus’ muggle band tee to show Lily he cared enough to learn or something.

“Where’d Wormtail go? The map isn’t here.”

“Who knows what he’s upto these days. Very secretive, our Wormy,” Sirius remarked, stepping around the clothing avalanche.

“Oh? Only him?” Remus sat up on his elbows, grinning shrewdly.

His uniform was unbuttoned down to his midriff, one flap untucked, and Sirius’ attention was rapt. “No,” he murmured. “Moony.”

“Yes?”

Remus stretched out his arm for Sirius to pillow his head on, which he did with a bright grin. They lay there in silence as he waited for Sirius to dredge the words out of his throat.

“‘s this alright then?” Sirius asked, rolling over to lay atop him, all bony elbows and knees. “Just you and me?”

This was still new, precious, fragile. James had probably guessed, but they hadn’t told anyone.

“Of course it is,” Remus assured, a kiss to his forehead. “Just us, Padfoot.”

Remus placed a bowl of rice and warm rajma in front of him.

Sirius wondered if he had once enjoyed this food if it made Remus stretch his wallet to prepare this for him.

“Here,” he said, pouring them both some whiskey on the rocks. “Sorry, I don’t own wine, this is easier to get drunk on.”

Sirius frowned slightly.

Remus filled the silence, misunderstanding Sirius’ hesitance, “I don’t drink that often, you know the wolf gets agitated.”

“You preferred beer,” he remembered suddenly.

Remus startled a bit. “Yeah, I–I still do.”

Sirius looked down at his plate, feeling a bit exposed and melancholic. His first proper meal in years, prepared by his, or who was once his, Moony.

“It was your favourite recovery meal,” Remus said lightly, correctly guessing what he was thinking. Sirius had to remind himself that Remus had also known him like the back of his hand.

“Oh,” he croaked.

“Lily tried to make it once when you and James were down with flu,” Remus continued, gratuitously offering the story, “and she burnt the rice, so I’d been summoned to salvage it to my best efforts. You really did enjoy it, even if James was more critical of the consistency of the curry.”

Sirius cracked a smile imagining the scenario to little effect; he couldn’t remember the colour of the Potter kitchen, Lily’s laugh, James’ observations or anything beyond the details of the anecdote.

“James preferred it thick,” Remus said. “And spicy.”

“Oh?”

“You could not handle it,” he teased.

Sirius smiled humorously. “You toned it down for me this time?”

“‘course I did.”

“Thanks, Moony. Did… did you learn from James?”

“I only knew to cook Cawl and Bara birth… and you liked Effie’s cooking too much to leave behind when they shifted out of London.”

“You always made my Indian cravings?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

“No,” Remus laughed a bit. “I’m not that good. We flooed to them when we were all– free, to eat his special Kerala porotta and beef curry or Lily’s favourite chapatti and aloo.”

His expression must’ve changed, because Remus’ mouth was pinched, making his scholarly moustache twitch.

“Sirius?”

He came to, a bit disoriented. “Sorry, there’s–there’re a few gaps in my memory.”

“We’ll fix that, Padfoot,” Remus said sadly.

We.

“Just you and I, eh Moony,” Sirius smiled weakly, recalling it was one of his favourite phrases.

“Just us,” Remus nodded vacantly. “Been just us for a while now.”

[rogerdeakinsdp]

so i've fallen down a rabbit hole of watching videos of foreigners travelling and/or moving to russia, and i need to rant bc even my mom is tired of me talking about, every time we're in the kitchen together she's like "have you found another one?" and i'm like "yeah 😔" ........ anyway

i'm not saying there's something inherently wrong with the people who choose to come to russia, especially after february 2022, but i'm not not saying it. i definitely don't trust them, and i assume they're right wing until proven otherwise. most of the people who come stay in moscow/st petersburg, none of them travel outside of the european part and GEEE I WONDER WHY. none of them are poor and most of them have questionable politics to begin with

there's this one american guy who tours TYPICAL/LUXURY supermarkets in russia and out of all of them he's the most popular right now. and even if he understands the concept of currency and how the exchange rate actually works, most of the commenters don't. "a liter of milk is only 80 cents" first of all, that's 950ml AT BEST, could be 800 or 750, and that's not cheap. "coffee is only 5 dollars" 450 for instant coffee is a lot. "look at these shelves in the middle of all those sanctions. does it look like the people are starving????" if you don't understand the details of sourcing produce don't draw stupid conclusions. like sure there's bread and milk and local meat because it's local, there's less variety and everything is more expensive, but there's still some stuff. you have to look at cosmetics, cleaning supplies, fruits and veggies, oils, cookies, drinks, alcohol. the first wave of sanctions that really hit the stores was in 2014 and you weren't there my guy. and even now like the pads are so expensive, and you get chinese brands that aren't as nice, and i can't get my favorite oral b dental floss anymore

there's another american guy who went to the grocery store to buy some pastry, 2 fruity drinks and 3 bottles of water. "omg just 11 dollars" 1100 is expensive!!! you can get like 25 different kinds of pasta that will last you months! "had lunch. only 30 dollars" 3k for a lunch that's just some vareniki and pirozhki?????? are you insane???? "just 30 dollars" fuck off. and the people he meets.... there was one girl from krasnoyarsk, and he asked "is that in the asian part of russia?" and she was like "that's in the middle of russia, asia is far way" GIRL WHAT THE FUCK???? you should know better. nobody thinks of western siberia when they say "the middle of russia" they mean central russia and you know it. krasnoyarsk is in the asian part of russia

there's another american guy who moved to russia to raise his family because russia is more like what the god intended, and they respect family values here and all that right wing bullshit. he sold his what looks like a $400,000 house in the states SO OF COURSE EVERYTHING IS CHEAP HERE YOU STUPID FUCKING SHIT!!!! "they have organic food here, no gmo, even the milk here isn't pasteurized" all milk in stores is pasteurized you dipshit!! "there's no racism here, they treat immigrants really well" because you're american!!!! they don't treat people from central asia, or indigenous peoples, or people from the caucasus the way they treat you!

there's a dutch guy who was surprised that russian people wash their hands when they come home and i don't know what to say????? you don't wash your hands???? gross

there's a japanese guy who also doesn't understand currency. "everything here is cheaper than in japan or finland" yeah i wonder why russia is cheaper than those first world countries, is don't even know why....... and he went to crimea in the last two years.....

there's a korean girl who mostly just vlogs about going to museums, and going to cafes and making food, and it's pretty boring, and she even acknowledged that her experience of russia is different from someone who lives here and it all depends on your economic situation, age, social status, your circumstances, and i just watch her videos looking for something inflammatory which is ?????? but there will be something 👁👁 why did you come girl???

there's another korean girl who went to the red square in a fur coat and no hat in december, which is suspicious........

there's a number of pretty unmemorable foreigners who are like "all my family told me not to come to russia, yet i'm here anyway, i'm gonna try to survive here because i like a challenge" go solve climate change if you like a challenge! knowing that living like me, better than me, with more money than me, is a challenge to someone is truly something..... GO HOME!

many of these people say "there's no restrictions on freedom on speech or freedom of expression, the media lied to us, i'm just a normal guy who wants to live my life with my family, i don't care what the government is doing" you're so stupid. you're so privileged. the commenters on these videos are full of right wingers, people are openly racists in them. it's just a cesspool of awful people.

"people are so nice and welcoming" because you are from the west!!!!!!!

JUST GO HOME!!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

[cassiopeiasara]

800 words

[iamthepulta]

The best thing about Italy and Europe is that linen just- exists here. I can go buy a shitty cheap 100% linen dress like I would go to Fry's and buy a shitty cheap 100% polyester dress in America. Absolutely revolutionary for my wardrobe. I can't actually buy wardrobe enhancements because I have a carry-on suitcase, but the fact I still have the option is amazing.