#usually a snippy girl

[arsenickool-aidforever]

Luna is getting a new tank, and snuggling while I disinfect everything. She’s never this snuggly with me, just with my husband (her Dad). So mama is loving the noddle snuggles today!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

chat

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe, established relationship, semi public sex, male receiving oral

part one / part two

“sup chat.” rafe says, barely glancing at the words on the screen as viewers pour in. “we are playing cod, what the fuck else would we be playing?”

you giggle quietly in the corner of the room. you're not surprised that when rafe decided to start streaming that he grew quickly in popularity. his good looks compared with dry sense of humor and ruthlessness made him get both girls and guys to become loyal viewers.

rafe loads up modern warfare, glancing at you as you watch him intensely, the one person he cares about.

“come here baby.” rafe beckons you over. you appear regularly on his streams, usually just sitting silently watching him play, or scrolling on your phone in the background.

you move quickly to rafes side, bending down to press a kiss to his lips when he lifts his head up.

“love you.” you whisper, kissing the smirk that stretches over his lips.

you turn to look at the screen as the comments about you roll in. “sorry ladies, but he's mine.” you rub your hand against rafes neck as you read a message out loud.

“how long have you been dating?”

“since mind your own business.” rafe fires back quickly, making you roll your eyes, watching as he joins a private party of his friends and other streamers. 

rafe may get snippy with chatters (half of which go crazy and start talking about being degraded by him) but he never acts that way with you as he lets out a whine when you walk away.

“another kiss for good luck.”

you press your mouths together again, increasing the intensity for all to see as you make out until you hear the game begin. you pull away to take your place just off screen.

“god, she's hot, isn't she?” rafe says with a smirk, glancing over to you as the boys in chat no doubt agree considering your ass was in the camera for part of the kiss. you roll your eyes dramatically, making rafe smile.

you pull your phone out as the game starts. you like to watch him play sometimes, but as rafe has streamed more and more, you've lost interest in the game and prefer to scroll through instagram or tiktok while listening to him responding to chatters or talking with fellow streamers.

you eventually grow bored as he plays game after game. you check his stream on your phone, curious the number of current viewers. he's not one of the most streamed, but he gets consistently good numbers as you lock your phone and place it down.

rafe glances over to you as he sees you move, but his eyes snap back to the game as shooting erupts from the speakers and he has to focus on not getting killed.

you move next to rafe, very aware that you are in perfect view of the camera as you sink to your knees and crawl under the desk.

“baby.” rafe warns, the other players letting out a laugh, but are quickly silenced with a growl from rafe.

“come on, just let me put it in my mouth.” you whine, not sure if the microphone is going to pick up your begging. “want it so bad.”

rafe usually wouldn't stop you, but he doesn't want to get banned and have to find someplace new to stream.

“alright, don't distract me from my game though.” he says, looking down between his legs as you work yourself in-between, pushing wires out of the way so you can kneel comfortably.

chat exploded as rafes view count rises, not hiding at all what you are doing between his legs as you tug at his basketball shorts, forcing them out from beneath him as his underwear is revealed, cock clearly outlined through the thin fabric.

you waste no time presses kisses up and down his length until it's straining against the fabric. rafe manages to keep his concentration on the game despite you pulling his cock out of his underwear.

“fuck.” he mutters softly as your bare mouth is now on him, eyes on the screen as he evades getting shot.

“yeah, she's under the fucking desk. stop talking about it.” rafe addresses his chat that must be going crazy. 

you hear some commotion from the people on call with them, but even they don't push it as rafe changes the conversation back to the game, telling the other players what they need to do next.

you sink your lips around his cock, staying true to your word and letting it sit heavy on your tongue, keeping still as you close your eyes. 

“alright, move baby.” rafe says after a few minutes, tapping you on the head.

you didn't hear him say goodbye to stream, but you assume he must have ended it as your head begins to bob up and down, cock pushing deep into your throat before you retract.

you swirl your tongue around his tip, loving the unique taste on your tongue as you lap up and down his shaft, making obscene slurping noises that you probably should be ashamed of, but you don't care if people do hear. you don't think anyone would blame you with how attractive rafe is.

“good girl.” he moans out as you hear his mouse furiously clicking.

you go back to sucking at his cock, hollowing out your cheeks as you move just how you know rafe likes it.

“goddamn it.” rafe groans, smashing his mouse against the desk as he gets killed in the game, his hand lowering as he waits to press against the back of your head, pushing you down until your nose is nuzzled against his skin.

you hold for as long as possible, even after rafes fingers return to his keyboard as a new game begins until you can't restrict your gag reflex any longer, pulling off with a cough.

“chat shut the fuck up.” rafe grunts out.

you lean forward, looking up at him through the space between his body and the desk. “you're still streaming?”

rafe glances down at you, your lips pink and shiny, face looking small next to his erect cock. 

“keep going, baby. don't worry about it.”

“mkay.” you shrug. you know rafe won't blame you even if he does get in trouble for streaming this. despite nothing actually being shown, he hasn't exactly been subtle about it.

you bring your focus back to rafes cock, suckling on the head before you begin to move up and down his shaft again, his long length being wrapped in the warmth of your mouth.

“close.” rafe warns with a moan.

“dude, are you actually getting head right now?” someone asks. you recognize their voice as a fellow streamer.

“shut up.” rafe says. “are you trying to get me banned?”

“sorry.” he quickly says. 

“just focus on the fucking game and cover for me for a minute.” rafe navigates his character into a corner as he looks down at you, both hands coming to the back of your head, pushing you down as his hips lift, burying his cock down your throat as he cums.

you swallow as quickly as you can, not wanting to lose a single drop as he coats your throat before letting go, pulling you off to see you sputter, a wicked grin on his face.

rafe pulls his underwear to cover his cock once again as you crawl out from under the desk, your knees weak as you wobble slightly as you stand, rafe reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

“thanks for that, baby.” rafe says, hand squeezing against your side.

you look at him, a glimmer in your eye as you whisper. “does this mean i can sit on your cock next time we do a couples stream?”

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[helen-with-an-a]

Can you do a Barca one where R is suffering with ED, but as one of the newest players, alexia and Jona are rough with her for a bit before she passes out on the field. Her bestfriend, and only friend at Barca, Ingrid, comes to her and feels how light she’s became and that’s when they find out about it?

Hiiiiii - thank you so much for the request and sorry it took so long to get through. Thank you to all the people who reached out offering advice about how to write this - I deeply appreciate it and I hope this helps someone out there. I know that it's scary and daunting but please, please talk to someone. Reaching out for help is the hardest thing, I am well aware of it, but I promise you it will get better. People love you. People want you in there lives. You are worth it and deserve every ounce of love in the world. I hope that my little corner of the internet can help you in some way. Lot of love to every single one of you. Forehead smooches for you all. I hope you enjoy this.

Different From Last Time

Barça Femeni x Reader

Description: R's eating disorder comes back when she moves to Barcelona

TW: Eating Disorder; Disordered Eating habits

Word Count: 3.1k

You hadn’t meant it. Not this time. It wasn’t like last time. Last time, there had been a snippy comment by a jealous girl. Last time, there had been a throw-away quip from a boy that you thought you had a crush on that you hadn’t thrown away. Last time, there had been a slow descent into your Bad Place. Last time, people around you had noticed. Last time, there were hospital visits and psychiatrists. Last time was not like this time. This time, there was no catalyst, no remark that sent you spiralling. This time, it happened without thinking about it. This time the Bad Place had appeared around you without you realising. This time was very different.

It had started when you moved to Barcelona. Your usual breakfast of porridge had made you feel ill one morning. The heaviness of the dense meal sat in your stomach for far longer than was comfortable and paired with the heat … it was not a fun time for you. The next day you had felt the same … and the next, and the next. So, you decided to cut the oats out, and pick at some of the fresh fruit sitting in the fridge instead. It never crossed your mind to replace the oats with something lighter but still filling, like a yoghurt or something. This was fine on your off-days, But by the time lunch arrived, you were starving – so you ate a lot. You plate was piled high of pasta and chicken and vegetables. All healthy, all nutritious. But because you’d ate so much at lunch, you weren’t hungry at dinner. So, you ended up skipping dinner, or picking at some more fruit.

Slowly, without you even realising it, all you were eating at home was fruit. Fruit and a milky coffee or black tea. Your breakfast was a delicious nectarine or a juicy vibrant orange and a mug of freshly brewed coffee with frothy, milky latte art on top or a warm, inviting cup of tea. You knew it might not have been the most nourishing of ways to start your day, but the thought of anything heavier had your stomach churning. The weather was warm, and you truly honestly weren’t hungry. Until you smelled the food in the lunchroom. Every day, you were the first one in and the last one out of the cafeteria. Pasta, rice, potatoes, chicken, beef, pork, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli, peppers. You name it, you probably ate it. It never really clicked in your mind that this could have been a sign. You never felt guilty after eating it, so you didn’t have a problem … right?

But then the off days rolled around. Without the structure of the training schedule, instructing you when and where to eat, you found yourself lost in the quiet of your little flat on the edge of town.  The fridge hummed softly, filled with vibrant colours of fruits you’d stocked up on. Baskets of peaches, plums, and pears lined your kitchen counter. They were beautiful to look at, reminding you of a still-life painting. That’s essentially all they were. A piece of decoration for you to look at.

It was an off day that you finally noticed the changes. You’d stepped out of the shower, steam still clinging to the small bathroom, and caught a glimpse of yourself. The skin stretched tight over your collarbones; your arms looked thinner, almost fragile.  The muscle you had worked so hard to gain was less noticeable. It was subtle, not something that would scream at anyone else, but you knew your body, and this wasn’t right. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself it was just the result of a new lifestyle. The Mediterranean diet, wasn’t that supposed to be healthier? People here were slim, fit, effortlessly beautiful. You were just blending in, adapting, right?

You refused to acknowledge it. You had been through this before. This was nothing like that. The words that lingered in your mind weren’t there this time. You didn’t fear things the way you did last time. You were fine. It wasn’t like last time.

You started to feel tired all the time. Not just sleepy, but exhausted, like your bones were weighed down with sand. It wasn’t the kind of tired that a good night’s sleep could fix. It was deeper, more persistent, as if it had seeped into your very being. You tried to ignore it, pushing through your days with a smile that felt more like a mask.

The coaches had started to pick up on your sluggishness. You were known for your speed – your nimble movements as you dodged round defenders like a dancer weaving through a crowded ballroom, your movements calm and calculated with perfect precision. But now, now your steps felt heavy – your timing off as you, once again, gave the ball away. It was preseason – surely you shouldn’t be this tired?

“Y/N, is everything ok?” Pere asked softly as he pulled you off to the side. You swallowed. Was everything ok?

“Yeh,” you sighed. “Sorry, I’m just tired. Still trying to get used to the heat,” you gestured around you. It was sweltering that’s for such. The temperature at the ground reaching an uncomfortable mid-thirties by mid-morning.

You knew you needed to step it up. You needed to be better. If not for you, then the team. The team needed you at your best. And you had to be the best. Maybe it was the Bad Thoughts talking, but you decided that being the best meant just training harder, not taking that step to talk to someone, to seek professional help. This wasn’t like last time. You could manage it.

And so, you pushed harder. You told yourself that this was the answer; that all you needed was to work through the fatigue, to out-train the tiredness that clung to you like a second skin. Early morning runs before the sun had fully risen, extra drills after everyone else had left the field, more laps, more weights, more sweat. You kept telling yourself that the ache in your muscles was proof that you were getting stronger, that the exhaustion in your bones was a sign that you were working toward something better.

You hadn’t really noticed it, but you were so focussed on training that you had stopped interacting with people. You were so tired all the time, your response became short and snippy. You were getting more and more irritable as the days went by. The little things that never used to bother you—the noise in the locker room, a teammate’s joke, even the way someone chewed their food—started to grate on your nerves. You could feel the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface, ready to spill over at any moment. But instead of addressing it, instead of acknowledging that something was wrong, you buried it under layers of denial and discipline. You told yourself it was just the stress, that everyone got like this sometimes. It was just part of being an athlete, right?

It was Alexia who first approached you, a few weeks after her return from the Olympics. She had been well aware of who you were before you signed for Barcelona – she had been on the receiving end of a few of your nutmegs and perfectly executed presses. This was not the Y/N she had played against.

She had found you outside, setting up for free kick practice. She found it strange – that you would choose to practice those of all things. You weren’t on the list to take set pieces, your name so far down the list the pigs would sooner fly then you participating in that part of football games.

“Hola,�� Alexia said, coming to stand next to you. You jumped, your body tensing at the intruder. “Lo siento,” she smiled at you.

“Alexia, um, hi?” You sounded genuinely shocked she was near you, voluntarily talking to you.

The Catalan captain scared you a little. It was something about her composure, her intensity that made you nervous to even breathe the same air as her, let alone talk to her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, honestly curious at your choice of activity.

“Practising,” you dismissed, looking across at the set up.

“Why?”

“Because I need to …” you trailed off, making it sound more like a question than anything else.

“We haven’t even had a game yet, I think you’re fine,” she consoled.

“No, I need to push myself. I need to be better. I want to do this for the team.” With those words, Alexia made up her mind. Something she would later regret massively, but something that, in the moment, seemed like a very smart idea.

Alexia observed you the following afternoon. You were right, you were moving more slowly than usual. You were slower, you were less agile, you were making mistakes that you never used to make. Alexia thought she was helping.

“No, de nuevo.” Alexia barked. You flinched at the tone, the harshness of Alexia's voice cutting through the afternoon air like a whip. It wasn’t just you who noticed – everyone on the pitch turned their heads, eyes widening in surprise. Alexia was known for her leadership, for guiding the team with a firm but fair hand. But this? This was different. It was almost like she was pushing you, testing your limits in a way that felt more personal than professional.

You forced yourself to focus, your heart pounding in your chest. Sweat dripped down your forehead, stinging your eyes as you tried to reset, to shake off the growing sense of unease that had taken root inside you. You couldn’t afford to mess this up, not in front of her, not in front of the team.

Again and again, you repeated the drill, your legs growing heavier with each attempt. You could feel your breath hitching, your lungs burning, but you pushed through, ignoring the screaming protests of your body. This was what you needed, right? To push harder, to be better. But with each failed attempt, each barked command from Alexia, doubt crept further into your mind.

Your teammates watched with a mix of concern and confusion. They could see something was off, that you were struggling more than usual, but no one dared to say anything. Alexia’s presence was too commanding, too intimidating to question. So they stayed silent, exchanging worried glances as you faltered once again.

“No, no, no,” Alexia snapped, stepping closer, her frustration palpable. “That’s not good enough. Again.”

You nodded, barely hearing her words over the pounding in your ears. The world was starting to tilt, the edges of your vision blurring as you bent over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath. But there was no time for that. You had to keep going. You had to prove yourself.

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice cut through your haze, sharp and unyielding. “Again.”

You straightened up, legs trembling, and moved to take your position. But the ground seemed to shift beneath your feet, and suddenly, you were stumbling, your vision narrowing to a pinpoint. Panic flared in your chest as the world spun, and before you could stop it, darkness began to close in around you.

Was it the heat? Was it the food? You really couldn’t tell. You felt horrific. But you had to keep going. You swayed gently as you began to sprint off. You needed out … you needed to breathe. Your body was on autopilot as you went through the motions.

Esmee was the first to notice. Your skin had a sallow, sickly paleness. Your eyes were sunken and your hair too thin. You looked awful. Her concern quickly turned to alarm as she watched you sway; your movements unsteady and uncoordinated. She could see the strain etched across your face, the way your muscles trembled with every step. Something was terribly wrong, and it was no longer just about your performance on the pitch.

She reached over to Ingrid, tapping her gently on the shoulder. The pair of them looked over to where you and Alexia were standing – you were barely conscious. How you were still on your feet was anyone’s guess. They exchanged glances, silently agreeing that something was terribly, terribly amiss and Alexia was taking things too far.

“Y/N, stop!” Mapí shouted, her voice breaking through the fog that had settled in your mind. But you barely registered it, your body still moving on instinct, trying to obey Alexia’s last command. The group didn’t hesitate. They were over to you in a flash. They sprinted across the field, reaching you just as your legs buckled underneath you. Ingrid’s gentle arms wrapped around you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said, her voice soft but urgent as she guided you to sit down on the grass. “You need to stop, Y/N. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Alexia’s frustration melted into concern as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn’t realised just how bad things had gotten until now. She had been so focused on pushing you to be your best that she hadn’t seen the toll it was taking on you, both physically and mentally. Guilt gnawed at her as she hurried over, her expression shifting from stern to worried.

“Y/N, why didn’t you say something?” Alexia asked, kneeling beside you, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Your vision was blurry, and the world felt like it was spinning out of control. You felt Ingrid’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles, but even that small comfort wasn’t enough to calm the panic rising in your chest.

“I… I thought I could handle it,” you finally managed to whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. “It isn’t like last time.”

“What’s not like last time?” Esmee’s gentle voice drifted over you.

“All of it. The Bad Thoughts aren’t like last time. I didn’t mean to do it. I …” If you had the energy, you would have been hysterical.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me,” Alexia’s tone posed no arguments. This was Captain Alexia talking. She brought a hand to your cheek, her palm gently guiding you to look at her. “Have you hurt yourself? Do you need an ambulance?”

“Not cuts. I … I don’t do that,” you whispered.

The sigh of relief was audible from all the girls around you.

“What didn’t you mean to do, Kjære?” Ingrid asked the question. She figured that since you were still in her arms, your back against her chest, that it might be easier voicing whatever it was that plagued your mind.

“I …” You remembered how hard it was to voice it all last time. At that had been to a total stranger. But then again … that had been to a total stranger. A stranger that had your best interests at heart, but they didn’t know you. Not like these girls did. “Food,” was what you settled on.

The moment the word left your lips, you felt the air around you shift. The weight of the confession hung heavily in the silence that followed, pressing down on everyone around you. The tension was palpable, each of your teammates processing what you had just said, the reality of the situation settling in.

Mapí's sharp intake of breath was the first sound that broke the silence, her shock evident. You could feel Ingrid's arms tighten around you slightly, as if she was trying to shield you from the world, from the consequences of your admission. Alexia’s hand remained on your cheek, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were truly going through.

"Food?" Ingrid repeated softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it any louder would make the situation even more real. "What do you mean, Y/N? Have you not been eating?"

You hesitated, your mind racing with the implications of what you were about to reveal. But there was no turning back now. The truth had already started to spill out, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to. "Not… not like I should," you finally admitted, your voice trembling. "It just… happened. I didn’t mean for it to, but I’ve been skipping meals, and when I do eat, it’s like I can’t stop. At home I can't eat. But in the cafeteria, it's all I can do …"

The guilt in Alexia’s eyes deepened, her mind replaying every drill, every push, every time she had demanded more from you without realizing the burden you were already carrying. "Y/N," she began, her voice laced with regret, "I had no idea. I should have seen the signs. I’m so sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from exhaustion or fear. They were from the overwhelming mix of emotions you felt—from relief that the truth was finally out, to shame for not being able to handle it on your own, to fear of what would come next.

Esmee knelt beside you, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours. "We’re going to help you," she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You don’t have to go through this alone, Y/N. We’re your team, and that means we’re here for you, no matter what."

The others nodded in agreement, their faces reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. You could see the resolve in their eyes, the silent promise that they wouldn’t let you face this battle alone.

Alexia took a deep breath, her hand still resting gently on your cheek. "The most important thing right now is your health," she said, her voice steady. "We’ll figure this out together. We’ll talk to the coach, to the doctors, and we’ll make sure you get the support you need."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. The support of your teammates was more than you could have hoped for, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe this time really was different. Maybe this time, you wouldn’t have to face the darkness alone.

Ingrid gently helped you to your feet, her arm still around your waist to steady you. The others formed a protective circle around you, their presence a silent but powerful reminder that you were part of something bigger, something stronger than any one of you alone.

As they guided you off the field, you knew that this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey. But you also knew that with them by your side, you could face whatever came next. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were going to be okay.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[moonstruckme]

Hi! A lil Sirius request or u could do it with one of the other boys (Remus James) but what about if his gf May be has an old injury that always flares up? (I hurt my knee years ago and even tho it's ok now every once a while if I over use it then it still hurts) and just fluff about her being upset her body won't cooperate and him just icing it and doting on her

Thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 623 words

“Try to get up one more time,” your boyfriend threatens, “and I swear to god I will sit on you.” 

“I just want the remote.” 

“And I’m getting it for you.” Sirius stretches towards the coffee table, keeping the ice pack held to your knee with his other hand. He grabs the remote that had been too far for you to get on your own, passing it to you with an exasperated look. “Relax, sweetness, you won’t miss your show.” 

“Thanks,” you huff, turning the TV on. Really, you just want the distraction. Your knee is still radiating a warm ache, your skin still prickling from the humiliation of having to admit it when Sirius had noticed your limp. 

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, voice quieter than usual. His touch is gentle as he adjusts the ice pack, careful not to press down too hard. You feel shitty for being snippy with him, and resolve not to speak until you can be trusted to do it nicely, in the way he deserves. 

It doesn’t work. Sirius is watching you, gaze shrewd and contemplative, fingers tapping a distracted rhythm on your ice pack. You keep your eyes obstinately on the TV, but it’s only a matter of time before he speaks up. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” 

You sigh, closing your eyes ashamedly. “I’m sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “For acting pissy when you’re pissed? Don’t worry about it.” 

“I don’t have to be mean to you just because I’m pissed,” you say, tilting your head back on the couch cushions. “I just feel like I should be able to run a couple of blocks without crippling myself. It’s got nothing to do with you.” 

Sirius’ mouth pulls sympathetically. He brings his free hand to your hurting leg, rubbing up and down the back of your calf. “We did a lot of walking before, too,” he points out. “It was a big day.” 

“That’s just it.” Your mouth tastes bitter. “I’m not eighty years old, walking around shouldn’t be a big day for me.” 

“I know, baby,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, it’s shit. But when it’s cool out like this, and you’re putting a lot of pressure on your knee, you’ve just—you need to treat yourself a bit more gently.” You make a sour face, and Sirius squeezes your calf, lips slanting upward. “I know, you’re very rugged. You’re the picture of youthfulness and good health. But try looking after yourself the way I look after you, yeah? For my peace of mind.” 

He speaks with blasé lightness, but his words melt you like butter in the sun. You sigh heavily, feigning reluctance. “But you’re so good at it,” you complain. 

“It’s hard work, yeah.” Sirius’ canines peek out as he grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll train you up. You’d really be helping me out, taking a load off. And it’d free me up to do more things like this.” 

He keeps his eyes on yours as he leans down, dark lashes fluttering prettily close to his brow. Your cheeks heat. Sirius moves the ice pack momentarily, pressing a featherlight kiss to the skin just below your knee. 

“There,” he says decisively, putting the ice pack back in place. “It’ll be better by tomorrow now, guaranteed.” 

You bite down on your lip to keep a smile at bay. “I didn’t realize how much you’d be able to accomplish if we shared the responsibilities.” 

“Yes, well, I know I make it look easy, but it is a lot,” Sirius tells you with faux solemnity. “Is there anywhere else I should see to?” He makes a show of looking you over. “Tsk, that lip looks to be hurting, too. C’mere, gorgeous, let me take care of that.”

[seikkoi]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 | dom!wanda maximoff x f!reader

18+ minors dni | dark-ish content warning

content/warnings: explicit sexual content, female domination themes, spanking, overstimulation, choking if you squint,

genre: pure smut, minimal braincells

word count: 1,554

Your typically patient wife has had enough of your attitude.

Your eyes squeezed shut, body tensing as Wanda’s palm meets your  skin again. You’re draped over her lap, nails digging into the soft suit pants at her thighs when another strike meets your ass. With every delicious sting, her other hand alternates between stroking your clothed back or fondling your hair. You writhe at the pain, legs restricted by your pants pulled down to your ankles. Normally, Wanda had the patience to undress you fully before punishing you. Normally, she would have stopped five minutes ago. But then again, you normally acted like less of a brat.

ᗢ

It was late when Wanda returned home, much later than usual. The busyness of the day affairs kept her from giving you a heads-up. You had a good two hours to build up your attitude about her tardiness. The ticking hands of the clock served as taunting background music while you watched dinner grow cold. 

You couldn’t fathom a reason she at least didn’t call to tell you, angrily putting away dinner and showering. The front door knob turned just as you re-entered the living room. Wanda, your ever-beautiful wife, wore tiredness in her face, but still greeted you with a smile. Seeing the dark, curve-hugging suit she wore to work made it difficult to be upset anymore, but not impossible. Before she could explain anything, you were on her case. Endless rhetoric about the importance of punctuality and communication spouted from your mouth. You gave no credence to the perfectly reasonable explanation she gave- only responding with more attitude. 

Wanda merely stood, unable to get much of a word in. You, too deep into your rant, don’t notice when she goes silent, removing her suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of her crisp white button-up. You didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at her mouth, or when she took slow, heavy steps towards you.

“You done, darling?” she cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The house was dim, with enough light for you to see the familiar glint in her green eyes. There was a firmness to her touch, fingertips dragging against your cheek. Only then did you realize how unfair you were being, and how much you just fucked up. 

“I just-You didn’t call, you always call.” Your body relaxed at her touch, anticipation swirling in your stomach. You'd been with Wanda long enough to know what your behavior would earn you.

“And I apologized for that, my love.” Her palm wraps around your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. “But you were too busy mouthing off to hear it.”

ᗢ

That’s how you earned your current position, a whimpering, soaked, half-dressed mess in Wanda’s lap. You had eagerly submitted to this punishment, albeit still stubbornly. You hadn’t held back a snippy remark when Wanda sat and gestured to her lap, which was probably why your punishment was much, much longer than usual. 

You are lucky though, because the sight of you like this, suddenly very apologetic and needy, starts to drive Wanda insane, filling her head with more ideas.

“On the bed.” It’s a short and breathy command that you follow all too quickly, pulling your pants off completely before lying on the cool sheets. Wanda kneels next to you, staring down at your flushed body like a meal waiting to be devoured.

A moment passes as you shift your weight off your tender skin and meet Wanda’s eyes, praying that she’d forgiven your earlier behavior. 

Almost like she’s read your mind, Wanda’s crooked smile returns as her hand dances behind your underwear. 

“You can be such a good girl, but only when you want to be, hm?” Her other hand strokes your thigh, fingers sliding along your folds in the same slow place as her taunt.

Your body was far too worked up and sensitive for her teasing, groaning from the lack of attention she knew you needed. You tried to move your sore hips, anything to increase her speed, but a firm push on your thigh stopped that. 

“You’re being a little harsh here,” you whined, still trying to gain even an inch of friction.

“You think you deserve any better right now?” Wanda prevented you from responding with more protest by quickly inserting the teasing digit into you, making you arch against the mattress.

Her goal now seemed to be just shutting you up, adding a second digit and relentlessly fucking you.  It borders on being too much too quickly. You can feel the warmth spreading across your skin as Wanda presses a thumb to your clit. You were now an even bigger mess than before, moaning and jerking against her. Wanda still kept you in place, replacing the hand at your thigh with her knee on your hip. With the way your body still reacts, trying to move against her, you’re certain you'll have a fresh set of bruises there now.

Wanda soaks in every twitch however, drunk on your moans. When your mouth hangs in an open gasp, eyes fluttering, she gives you no reprise, curving the slender digits inside you.

“Shit, Wanda, that’s too much-”, your own sounds of pleasure cut you off, feeling your peak rip through you with little warning. The dampness of the sheets reaches your thighs as you swear and cry out Wanda’s name.

You learned that you were still paying for your outburst, with Wanda’s pace going unchanged. The pleasure transitioned from bliss to overwhelming as she fucked you through your orgasm and long after. The knee holding you down could barely be felt, mind too absorbed in the feeling between your legs. 

You feel like a puddle of water beneath her. Your excitement coated her fingers, making every thrust into you glide with ease. You can hardly process the digits against your walls, crying out each time she reaches your hilt or adds more pressure to your clit. When you feel your second orgasm building, the overstimulating pleasure pricks fresh tears from your tightly shut eyes. 

“W-wanda, please, I can’t.” you cry, gripping aimlessly at the damp sheets beneath you. 

You try a bit harder to sit up, moving your hips away from hold. Wanda isn’t having it, though- her free hand makes its way to your throat, pushing you back down. The smile on her face is infectious, gleaming at your pleas. 

“So polite all of a sudden, tsk,” Wanda scoffs, stretching you further with a third finger. You groan at the sensation, eyes rolling when she finds her pace again.

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget your manners next time, draga.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?

pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader

summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.

Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.

Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.

Let me know what you think!

"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.

It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.

You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.

Would you be good as you were when you come back?

Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.

Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.

It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.

Could you blame your dad for that though?

Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.

The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.

You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.

The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.

"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.

Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"

"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.

"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.

You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.

"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.

"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.

You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.

So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.

"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.

"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.

The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.

"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.

"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.

After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.

"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.

"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.

"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.

"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.

At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.

As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.

At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.

Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.

They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.

Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.

You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.

You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?

"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.

Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.

"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.

"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"

Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.

Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.

You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!

If only it was that simlpe, right?

Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.

It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.

You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.

In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.

Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.

Damn stupid knee injuries.

It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.

"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.

You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.

"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"

"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.

Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.

"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.

"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.

"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.

"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"

You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.

How could you be so careless, though?

You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.

Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.

"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.

"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.

"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.

You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.

You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.

"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.

"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.

"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.

Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.

"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.

The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."

"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.

"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.

"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.

Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.

"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.

Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.

"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.

"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you." 

© scribblesofagoonerr

[servingrobin]

Hi Boa! I read your favorite position with monster trio and Law if i am correct. So i was wondering what if reader would be fucking Law stand up, pinned against the wall. Male reader, female reader, go ahead. Maybe Law tease them all day or just pent up. And it was worsen with Law bratty behaviour, so they ended up having sex. Suit yourself about the punishment and etc. Be wild and take good care of yourself.

Ahhh super fun I like this 😝

Trafalgar D Law/ set on the polar tang

Warnings: brat!reader, fem reader, rough handling, semi-public, slight humiliation, dirty talk, spitting

✨requests open✨

It had been a long day. You had several ship duties to attend to, you were running out of clean clothes, every member of the crew seemed to be trying to personally annoy you, and worst of all - Law was making it his mission to tease you to death.

It started in the early morning, his soft lingering touches brushing against your sleepy thigh as you curled into him, sleep still crusted in your eyes. Law skated around your whole body with whispered touches, circling your most sensitive points and sending your every downy hair on your body on edge. Once Law saw your eyelashes fluttering to electrified awakening he stopped his ministrations, planting a soft kiss on your lips and scooting out of bed to get started with the day.

His morning teasing had left you on edge in all ways, and you were snippy with the rest of the crew because of it. It didn’t help that it was fully one of those days where everything was going wrong. The washing rota had been messed up so you had no clean clothes, someone had broken your favourite mug without a word, and then worst of all was every time Law saw you. He’d knock you into the halls, grabbing and pinching at you as you passed by. He did this several times before you were truly pissed - any of these things would usually roll off your back but your pent up frustration was starting to come out.

You huffed around the underwater vessel, stomping from room to room as you went about your duties. Law found your attitude more than amusing, his snickers every time you passed and he made a grab sending you frothing at the mouth.

Finally you’d had enough. You were about ready to murder someone, storming back to your room and slamming the door. You threw yourself down on the bed with a cry and sulked for a good few minutes before rage overtook your senses. There was no way you were going to sit upset when the demon who did this to you say pretty upstairs.

You caught each other in the hallway. Law reached over for yet another grab at your plush ass cheek and you slapped his hand away, shoving him against the wall.

“It’s not fair! You can’t keep doing this to me!” You whined, painfully aware of how immature you sounded but too angry to care. You held Law against the wall by the shoulders.

Law smirked at you with devious eyes, glaring at you with enough force to make you shrink back. You recognised your demeanour changing and squared your shoulders back to reinforce your rage. Law simply laughed at you and in the blink of an eye had you flipped over, your back hard against the cold wall and your core clenching like a bitch in heat.

Law nuzzled into the side of your neck, his breath hot and heavy running down your chest. He traced his way up to the shell of your ear with his tongue and breathed deeply into your skull.

“Brats don’t deserve treats baby, you couldn’t take a little teasing so you have a tantrum? Boohoo.”

He was taunting you, body rock solid against you as you shuffled to free yourself. You were a strong fighter but no match for your Captain, especially when he concentrated all his force on holding you in place.

“I think you need to learn a lesson here baby, now be a good girl and take off your clothes.”

You floundered, eyes darting from door to door down the hall, but Law was dead set and you could see on his face nothing but resolution. You trembled as you shucked off your top and trousers, leaving you stood in nothing but your underwear.

Law tutted at your pause and reached over, tearing the underwear clean off your body in one strong pull. He snorted when you tried to hold your hands up to cover yourself, extremely aware of the rest of the crew in the rooms around you.

Law didn’t say anything else, simply stared at you with growing heat. He pulled your hands away from your chest and watched your tits bounce, huffing as they jiggled so nicely for him. In a smooth motion he spat down on your chest, covering your breasts in glistening moisture.

Law pressed his hard-on into your hip, grinding against you for friction whilst he played with you. He pulled and twisted and smacked at your tits until they were sore, glowing red from his torture. You moaned feebly as the slick grew between your legs.

Law finally pulled his own trousers down to rest just below his cock, his tip poppy red and weeping fluid already. He wasted no time in hiking your leg up around his waist and plowing straight into you.

You let out a shaky moan and Law spat into your open mouth, bringing his hand up to shut it after. He kept his hand there as he began thrusting up into you, knocking you back into the wall with every push.

“Atta girl, keep your dirty mouth shut or everyone will hear you taking this dick like a good little whore.”

His words ignited a fire within you that was stoked with every thrust. A burst of flame that erupted when Law closed his mouth around a nipple and started nibbling. You let out a muffled squeak as you came for the first time, hips bucking wildly into your Captain.

Law laughed right in your face as he sped up, thrusts bruising as he slammed into you again and again. He reached his other hand down to your clit and started stroking, bringing you quickly to the edge once more.

With a squeak you squirted all over the man’s hips, tears forming as you rode out your pleasure. You felt over sensitive,fully electric, and still Law kept going.

His thrusts were growing sloppy and he rutted closer to his own end. You could only hold on and try to stay standing as he used your cunt for his pleasure. The sensation was completely overwhelming and you shook with the exertion of staying stood, but Law simply grabbed you by the waist while he fucked into you.

With a low growl he came, full pumping thrusts that filled you to the brim. He rested his forehead against your bare shoulder as he dropped down from his high.

“Let’s get you dressed sweetheart, don’t need anyone seeing what’s mine.”

[thebiggestlovergirlever]

Hey lovely, would you a do a jealous!Muzan x female!reader.. He doesn’t realise that he’s in love with her until he tasked her with getting something off someone (you chose who) and the way she does that is by seducing said person. Muzan gets super pissed off with her and starts ignoring her, reader decides to flirt with the upper moons just to piss off Muzan for ignoring her and all hell breaks loose. You decide what ends up happening, but they do end up getting together 😊

Ahhh Omg I love this idea!! Thank you sooo much for requesting (ur my first request ever!!) sorry if it’s not very fluent but I was so excited to write this :D!!

The town was bustling even though it was night, Muzan had sent you out to retrieve a few ingredients for his most recent attempt at being able to walk in the sun. You duck and weave through countless people till you finally reach the shop you were looking for “hello sir I need three nightshade flowers.” You state politely, the man looks you up and down before gathering them into a little bag “That will be 300¥” you sigh“oh I don’t have any money on me, could I pay you in another way?” You ask with a sly smirk resting on your face. His cheeks are dusted with a rosy color as you begin to move towards him. He smiles and grabs your hip firmly “oh yeah? And how so would you be paying me?” As you begin to undo his belt the door slams open and money is thrown on the counter. Muzan snatched the flowers, grabs your wrist, and drags you out to the woods, “What on earth where you doing?” He questioned, a sneer resting on his face. Confusion grows in your head “I was doing as you said and getting the nightshade,” you mutter, it ended up sounding more like a question making your confusion evident “What I walked in on was a mockery of the twelve kizuki, and demons in general.” Before you could respond he was gone and you were left to your thoughts.

As you headed to your home in the woods you kept going over the events from that night in your head, “Why was he so mad? I’ve seen him encourage many demons to do anything and everything to get less important things than that, so what makes it different when I do it?” You finally realized right before the sun rose, Lord Muzan was jealous. You and Muzan had always had a complicated past, for the last few centuries you had grown feelings for him wishing he would reciprocate those feelings, you would try to create conversation and pay him all your attention lovingly. Sadly he hardly even responded and when he did it was short and snippy. Unknown to you Muzan adored the attention you gave him, he enjoyed your stories of fighting demon slayers and finding trinkets on the ground to keep and decorate your home with, would he ever admit to you or himself that he felt the exact same way no not for now.

Realizing he was jealous you decided to take advantage of this and see if you could finally win his heart over. The next upper moon meeting you started with Douma, “Hello Douma, your hair looks lovely today have you done something to it?” You ask in a sweet tone trying your best to make your eyes look as attentive as possible “Ah Y/N thank you! I have recently eaten a much younger woman than usual she was 19 years old and I’ve noticed my hair and skin has been much smoother ever since,” he responded with his usual fake smile. You sent a quick glance towards Muzan and felt your heart begin to race as you saw him glaring down at Douma, you thought to yourself “it’s working!” As a grin grew on your face. “So has the younger girl helped with your muscle definition too? Because your pecs and arms look more muscle-ey than they did last meeting, can I feel?” You ask with a flirtatious giggle he responded in the same tone “of course my dear!” You grabbed his pecs and arms and made sure to giggle as you glanced up at Muzan. Anger was evident on his face, if looks could kill Douma would be six feet under, deciding to spare Douma any more issues with Muzan you moved to Akaza.

“Akaza you’re so strong, we should train together tomorrow,” you giggle giving him a glance up and down, unlike Douma, Akaza doesn’t care for small talk as much responding with a sneer “No thank you. I have better things to do.” As you continue to try and talk to him Muzan glares at a distance. His whole body is hot almost erupting with rage, He begins the meeting with an aggressive yell. The entire meeting you tried to focus but all you could take note of was Muzan’s angry demeanor. His eyebrows twitched as he snapped out orders at the rest of the upper moons, while you were left neglected.

At the sound of Nikime’s Biwa you were transported to a dark office, as far as the eye can see was books and documents. You walked over to a big desk covered in test tubes and equipment to make anything that would help concur the sun. The light snapped on and you quickly turn around, you stared at Muzan with a light smile, he stared back but with a cold glare. He saunters over to you, eyes drinking in your figure, “What were you doing before the meeting? Ignoring me is not a good decision Y/N.” You snicker quickly and respond “What are you talking about my lord? I wasn’t ignoring you, I just took the hint you didn’t want me wasting your time with my stupid stories and questions so I left you alone.” His features soften quickly as he moves closer, he gently grabs you face as he says quietly “I love your stories and your questions, what ever made you feel that way?” Placing your hands of his hard chest you whisper “You never responded, or seemed to care so I gave up,” you finally meet his eyes as he says “I care, I care about everything you do and say. I care so much that I would burn the world if you wished, I love you.” And with that You kiss, both silently acknowledging your shared love.

[katsu28]

"send ☕ along with a prompt from any one of the lists below and a character of your choosing, and i'll write you a one shot to satisfy your craving!"

☕: prompt 23 from list e for rafe!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

it pains me to paint my pogues in a not so great light but i will forever love protective rafe <3 thank you for requesting!

rafe cameron x reader, minimal swearing, 1.9k

“Look who it is! The Princess Kook, slummin’ it on our side of the island for once.” 

Your grip tightened around the pack of beer you were holding at the voice coming from behind you, because you already knew who it was. There was only one person ballsy enough to speak so critically of you, and you were pretty damn sure he was standing right behind you.

Lo and behold there he was, flanked by a more bored looking John B. 

JJ Maybank was and always had been on your case, though you suspected it had more to do with your family name than with you yourself—always spouting off about money and wealth and eating the rich. You understood where he was coming from, of course, but that didn’t mean it stopped being irritating.

It just seemed like he was always riding you about being some little rich girl with daddy’s money, not an actual person, with actual feelings. But after a while, you’d grown used to it. JJ was all bark and no bite. 

“Hi, JJ.” You sighed, shifting your weight to one leg. You nodded at John B, who did the same back to you. “How’s it going?” 

“Didn’t know our booze was good enough for Her Majesty’s taste.” JJ sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. You rolled your eyes at his dig. “Rafe know you’re over here?” 

“He’s not my keeper.” 

“What’re you even doing here, Y/N? They don’t got beer on Figure Eight?” John B sounded a little bit nicer, more tired than bitchy like his blond friend. 

“Cheaper here.” 

“Like you don’t have enough fuckin’ money.” JJ scoffed. John B jabbed a sharp elbow into his side, a sign for him to shut up. 

“Look guys, I’m not looking for any trouble. I just wanna get some beer and go home, that’s it.” 

“How ‘bout you leave the beer here and run back to your little princess castle instead?” 

“You’re a real prick tonight, JJ. Something got your panties all up in a bunch?” You shouldn’t have snarked back, that you knew, but he was really getting on your nerves tonight. You weren’t sure why. His words usually just slid right off you. 

JJ’s expression darkened and he scowled, brows furrowing. “Maybe ‘cause I just got fired from the Club this morning.” 

“What, why?” You asked, surprised. It was a genuine question. JJ was a definite pain in your ass, maybe with an attitude problem but still a good employee. 

“Oh, drop the clueless act. Pretty sure it was one of your stuck up friends who complained.” 

“I’m sorry you got fired, JJ, I am, but I had nothing to do with it. And there’s nothing I can do about it either. I don’t have that kind of pull with anyone at the Club, neither does my family.” 

You figured it would be better if you left now before JJ came up with another retort, or you'd likely be here trading snippy insults with each other all night, and you had better things to do with your time. There was some sympathy in you for him, but your statement was still true. There was nothing you could do for him, even if you wanted to. And besides, Rafe was waiting on you for a movie night. 

Leaving the conversation and the beer you were supposed to get behind, you hurried back to your car. The quicker you got to Rafe’s place, the quicker you could forget about it. 

Only a couple minutes into the drive, headlights flashed in your mirror. No big deal, probably just someone heading the same way as you. You were on the main road to the other side of the island, after all. 

Then the car sped up a bit, coming dangerously close to your back bumper before retreating a sizable distance behind—once, twice. By the third time, you were starting to get a little pissed. 

“What the fuck?” You muttered, squinting to get a better look at it. A big camper van, old from what you make out in the darkness, faded orange—oh fuck. You knew that van, John B’s old clunker of a car. And if you squinted a little harder, you could almost make out the same blond head of hair that was antagonizing you back at the store. 

So JJ did have a little bite in him. You sure as hell weren’t going to stick around to find out. 

Stepping on the gas a little harder, you took the long way back to the Figure 8, weaving through the backroads you’d known like the back of your hand since before you were able to drive. Back then, you’d done it on your bike, peals of laughter echoing through the overgrown fields of the Cut turned clean lines of pristinely cut lawns the closer you got to home, as Rafe chased after you on his own. 

Still, the van followed you on your way. With every glance at it in the rearview mirror, you grew a little more worried.

JJ’s driving was erratic, like he was playing a game of cat and mouse with you. If he really wanted to hurt you, this would be the ideal place to do it. There was nothing but grass and weeds around here. Nobody would find you for hours, even days if he were to run you into a ditch or something. 

That thought alone spurred you to drive even faster, driving and driving until you took one more look in the mirror to see that the van had stopped. You watched the headlights grow smaller in the distance, forcing yourself to keep driving until you got to safety—to Rafe. 

You screeched to a stop in front of Rafe’s townhouse, barely giving a backwards glance to see if they were really gone before hurrying the rest of the way to the front door. Hands trembling, you balled them both into fists, raising one to knock as loudly as you could. You could barely hear the thud of your fist on the wood over your thundering heart. 

The door opened in an instant, Rafe’s smiling face greeting you. It quickly faded when he took in your wide eyes, your hard breathing. He pulled you inside immediately, sliding the locks home behind you before gathering you into his arms. “What happened?”

You explained as quick as you could, but the adrenaline from the whole thing was starting to die down. Your previous thoughts were starting to seem silly at this point. JJ was a hothead, but you didn't think he’d go so far as to take out his anger on you. He was probably just trying to scare you, nothing more, nothing less. 

Rafe, on the other hand, was livid. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, voice dangerously low. His eyes searched you for any visible injuries, hands sliding over your body with the utmost care, a stark contrast to the storm creeping into his beautiful blue eyes. “I swear to god if those punks even laid a finger on you—” 

“No, no, they didn’t hurt me, Rafe. I’m okay now, I promise. Just a little shaken up is all.” You assured him, stopping his search by lacing your fingers through his. He still looked unsure. “I’m fine, baby. Honest.” 

Rafe’s brows furrowed long and hard, and you reached up, attempting to smooth out the deep wrinkle between them with your thumb. 

You traced above one of them, trailing down over the skin under it before letting your palm settle against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut for a split second as he leaned more into your touch. The wrinkle disappeared. 

“Okay. But you’re not going home tonight. You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna have a talk with my sister in the morning, okay?” He was calmer now, you could tell. The sharp edge to his voice was gone, his shoulders relaxed the more you stroked along his skin. You nodded, satisfied. “Can I make you something? Tea? A snack? I’ve got those cheese puffs you’re so obsessed with, though I don’t really see how good—” 

“Rafe,” You chided, smiling warmly, “You don’t have to dote on me. I’m fine.” 

“I know. My girl’s strong.” He murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of your palm. “Just had me worried for a bit, that’s all.” 

You kissed him, short and sweet, before tugging him towards the living room. Your gaze landed on the snacks he’d laid out on the coffee table first, drifting to the heaps of blankets and pillows on the couch right after.

Everything was already set up perfectly, and with all that had happened in just the past hour, sent a warmth flooding through your body, a sense of safe and love and home that you only ever felt when you were with Rafe. 

Rafe suddenly looked bashful, scratching the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin at the way you were looking at him. “What? I was excited to see you.” 

“You saw me yesterday, Rafe.” You chided lightly, completely failing at a stern look in favor of something much fonder. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you.” 

“Rafe Cameron, are you going soft on me?” You hummed, settling onto the couch. Rafe threw himself down next to you with a nonchalant shrug, resting an idle hand on your knee when you threw your legs across his thighs, but the answer was a resounding yes.

Yes, he was soft for you. Yes, he loved you more than he loved anything and anyone in this world. 

He knew it, you knew it, and that was what prompted him to speak his next words. 

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking.” 

“Uh oh.” You snickered, drawing a roll of his eyes with a lopsided smile. 

“Hilarious. Anyways, um, what would—I mean, what’re your thoughts about maybe…moving in with me?” 

“Here?” Maybe you sounded a bit more skeptical than you meant to, because Rafe quickly backtracked, sitting up straight. 

“Doesn’t have to be here. We could get a new place, if you want.” He replied, shaking his head. “Top’s uncle works in real estate, I could probably get him to show us some places within the next couple of days—”

“No.” 

Rafe’s expression crumpled. “No? No, as in no, you don’t want to live together?” 

You amended your rather blunt statement with a hand placed over his. “No, as in no, I don’t want to get a new place. I wanna live here. With you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t look so surprised, Cameron, your place is way nicer than mine.” You teased. Clearly amused, he scoffed, giving your calf a playful pinch. 

“That the only reason?” 

“‘Course not. I’m also looking forward to that fancy shower head in your bathroom.” 

Rafe snorted, pulling you close against him, pressing his forehead against yours. He looked a bit funny like this, nearly bug-eyed because of your close proximity, but you thought he’d never looked cuter. “And me?” 

You peppered kisses to his cheeks, chin, nose, the corners of his mouth in lieu of an answer, loud and over dramatic and definitely obnoxious, but it made him laugh. Then you kissed him right where he wanted, firm and loving against his lips to say yes, always you, and he smiled. 

Moving in with Rafe meant getting to hear your favorite laugh, see your favorite smile, every single day waking up next to him. You hoped you’d get to experience it for the rest of your life, starting now. 

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[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Odette and Clare with bodyguard reader hired by Carmilla to protect them only ending As something more.

Twin Tempations

Carmilla accepted nothing but the best.

Especially when it came to her daughters.

You went through several 'trails' and tribulations before Carmilla gave you the job, the woman instilling the deepest sense of duty and dedication into you before you even met the girls.

Clara was... unimpressed.

She worked besides her mother for decades, and put simply, her standards were exceptionally high so, well, she wasn't impressed.

She understood why you were hired.

Her mother hoped plenty of individuals for similar roles.

She just didn't agree with the decision.

Odette... didn't really care.

Yes, it was slightly demeaning that their mother felt the need to hire another bodyguard, but honestly, so long as you didn't get to big for your boots and get in the way, she wasn't all that bothered.

And so, after the greeting and usual back and forth, Clara being sure to let you know she doesn't think all that highly of you, you just acknowledging it, the girl unsure how to respond to your neutral exchange.

Your major duty was to follow the pair around as they handled various jobs for Carmilla.

From weapons shipments, to collecting stray angelic steel. Your duty being to stay by their side as they carried their duties out.

You of course, just followed them around, doing as you were told, usually resulting in you carrying around the bulk of materials for them.

Loose weapons, crates, baggage and just anything they couldn't be bothered to carry.

You would of course, do your duty as a bodyguard.

Or at least you'd try.

As while your presence alone would deter many creeps and sleeze bags that may have wished to prey on the pair of attractive young ladies, well, put bluntly, Clara wouldn't pass up on any chance to mark you 'redundant'.

And while her comments were almost constant, you'd just shrug it off, ignoring her snide comments while keeping up your professionalism, doing as you were told so long as they didn't do anything to actively endanger themselves.

You'd often find yourself helping in business, whether it be pulling a cart of munitions or simply holding the clipboard. Though even then, Clara was always adamant on checking it herself, determined to not let you 'screw it up'.

And well, despite her hostility, you fell into a routine.

You'd follow them around, helping with whatever job they'd been given.

And when not on the clock you'd train, working yourself hard, or oddly enough, find yourself hanging around Carmilla herself.

Now granted, Odette and Clara would both spend much of their time around her too, unless they were on a job, but when in Carmilla's 'Sanctuary', you'd often find yourself shadowing the woman, waiting for the girls to be sent out on a task.

Now your relationship with the girls would be... rocky... at best.

At least in the beginning.

Clara, as mentioned, was fairly bull headed, the woman a capable fighter in her own right, the demoness always sure to let you know she didn't need you.

She'd challenge you to countless duels, you always refusing to raise your hand to her.

You could take her snide and snippy comments. They were literally nothing compared to what Carmilla would do to you if she discovered you accidentally hurt her daughter while sparing.

And well, she really didn't respect you, seeing you as just another mindless goon sent to watch them work.

Odette on the other hand, was more hospitable.

Now she wasn't exactly your best friend, but she certainly wasn't hostile, the two of you able to hold a conversation without it turning into a one sided snide comment competition.

She didn't really see the need for you, especially with Clara at her side, but she honestly wasn't apposed to more security on their runs.

You'd actually discuss the business on many occasions, the young lady impressed with how much you knew on weapons design and angelic steel. Your mind far more of a steel blade as a posed to the dull hammer Clara propagated.

You'd of course wield those very weapons, so your knowledge was quite intimate in many regards.

Still, having the discipline and drive to use such weapons was nothing to scoff at, the weapons as much a danger to the weilder then it's potential target.

Your little tuff with Clara would come to ahead just after an extermination.

You'd be out collecting angelic steel.

Why would the daughters of one of the most powerful overlords in Hell personally be out collecting handfuls of steel, especially considering she'd have hundreds of souls under her control?

Clara mostly.

She loved field work. And Odette was always happy to get some work done, especially with her sister.

And well, you were kind of stuck with them.

But It'd be as you grabbed some steel, trying to lighten Clara's load, ya know, doing your job and caring for them that Clara would snap at you, telling you off that she could do it herself.

She'd go on, telling you she could more than protect herself and her sister, she didn't need some chump off the street to do what she'd been doing for years.

Odette would attempt to step in and defend you, but Clara wouldn't have it, screaming at you before storming off, breathing hard as she ignored her sisters calls.

With a sigh, you simply told Odette to finish up while you went after her.

Clara would be be marching away angrily, steps heavy as she marched down a decrepit street, the girl muttering and snarling to herself, about you, why do they even need you?! Why would mother give some random such a job?! Doesn't her mother know she's more then enough?!

She hated you. Hated how orderly. How polite. How disciplined you were. How Odette and even her MOTHER seemed to like you!

She hated you!

It was as she finally calmed down that she realised she was lost.

And with a sigh, she'd start walking around, trying to centre herself.

She'd quickly find herself in a decrepit alleyway, the girl freezing as a group of Sinners waltzed up to her.

Clara would tell them to fuck off as they cat called her, and despite her attempts to walk away, she'd find herself surrounded.

She didn't panic of course after all, she had... she... had... her weapons...

It was then that she realised that in her anger she'd thrown her weapon to the floor, leaving her defenceless.

And suddenly she understood why having a dedicated body guard may be a good thing.

She was no such pushovwr even without her weapons, but there were a Lot of them, the girl not sure how many of them she could take before they overwhelmed her.

And it was just as a man was about to reach her, a sinister smirk smeered across his face that his head would explode.

And before she could quite process it, you were suddenly before the girl, and you... you were magnificent.

You, quite literally, cut your way through the Sinners.

You putting those skills, and weapons, to good use as you cut and shot your way through the crowd, their numbers rapidly shrinking.

Rip and Tear!

It'd be as you went one on one with an especially large demon made a go at Clara that you'd be forced to jump in, defending the girl, but having your hand cut off for your effort.

Even with one hand missing, you still cut down the rest of the fucks before turning to her, checking on her

Clara would snap at you for asking if she was alright as your bloody stump dripped to the floor.

You'd tell her that didn't matter, you were her bodyguard. She was your priority. You didn't matter so long as she was alright.

She could see how genuine you were. How dedicated you were to her and your job.

And she felt... awful.

After a few moments, she'd apologise. Telling you how sorry she was for treating you so poorly, promising it would never happen again.

And much to her surprise, you just smiled, laughing actually before you reached out, gently brushing her hair back.

You telling her you appreciate it.

It wasn't necessary, but you really did appreciate it.

Clara would blush at that before laughing it off, punching your shoulder, telling you you should get back, you agreeing as you gripped your stump.

After that you and Clara were on much better terms, you two getting very close over the following days.

In fact Carmilla herself would notice how close you and Clara got over the next few months, even dualling on many occasions, the young lady learning more then a few tricks from you.

Of course you and Carmilla still spent time together, you often shadowing her in her day to day whenever you weren't out working with the girls or spending time with Clara.

But as you grew closer to Clara, you'd also strengthen your relationship with Odette. You'd accompany her on expeditions, works and research works.

And while you were always friendly, it never really breached a professional arrangement.

That was until one particular resource shipment.

You were supposed to pick up some very important materials from a new supplier.

Unfortunately this supplier was a stupid piece for shit, and tried to just gun you down and take the money.

Of course, you wouldn't allow her to fall to any harm.

Though unfortunately for you, the bastards who betrayed you happened to have one of Carmillas very own carbines, attempting to take out Carmillas daughter.

Of course you didn't let that happen, acting as a human shield, taking the bullet as you protected the girl, recieving a ruthless gut wound, and since it was an angellic bullet it did serious damage, you struggling to protect the girl as you git her the fuck out of there.

You sluggishly picking off several goons before you managed to get her out, the two of you stranded for several hours, Odette doing her best to dress your wound, the two of you sharing a surprisingly light hearted moment before you managed to contact Carmilla and get a pick up.

Now Carmilla would be slightly erked at the turn of events, she would understand that the situation was out of your control.

And given your harsh wound protecting her daughter the woman would spend a small fortune tending to you.

Clara especially defending you, not that she really needed too, but it was nice to see the girl warm to you.

Carmilla caught off guard by Odettes rather harsh defence of you, the girls almost zelous defence of you clearly inspired by your selfless act, the girl actually hostile towards her mother for the very first time.

A first for both women.

So after backing off, you and Odette would enter a new balance in your relationship.

A balance that would rapidly become lopsided as Odette and Clara would begin vying for your attention.

Clara through sparing, the two of you dueling or debating your choice in weapons.

While Odette would talk shop, the two of you discussing weapons development, or just having a casual chat on Carmillas business empire.

It really didn't matter what you were talking about, so long as the two of you were close and chatting they were happy.

The three of you getting closer and closer, you and Clara bonding over your mutual combat experience, while your wit and intellect rapidly sharpened with Clara.

Funnily enough, despite the clashes in personality and Claras usually blunt personality, it would be Odette who confessed first.

The studios girl admitting that she was infatuated with you, the girl asking to perhaps become more.

You'd of course take a day to think.

Though having time to think wasnt a luxury you were granted as the second Clara found out about her sisters confession, the girl would confess herself, the headstrong young lady confessing as she pretty much pinned you down mid duel.

Of course she only pinned you down because you let her, the girl rather blunt as she told you you meant a great deal to her and... and she wanted you.

And that's how you found yourself pinned between two headstrong daughters of one of the most prominent Overlords on Pride.

You were of course split between the two, you not wanting to hurt either, but knowing that choosing one would devastate the other.

But funnily enough, the decision would also be yanked from your hands.

The two would discover the others confession, tearing at each other.

Funnily enough, having to step in to divide the two would result in them demanding you choose.

And so, you snapped, scolding the two, stopping the sisters from fighting, demanding they settle down or else you won't choose either of them.

And funnily enough, they did settle down, the power shifting drastically into your favour in a shocking display of power.

The girl's would take up a new stance, both doing their best to seduce you, though in rapidly different manners.

Odette doing so by leaning heavily into the simple yet affectionate way you interacted, relishing the time you spent together, Odette far more playful, not missing a chance to seduce you. Though even then, she couldn't help but be the adorable dork you held so fondly.

Clara on the other hand was faaaaar more physical.

It actually being during a rather rough sparing session that she'd sweep you off your feet, pinning you down, the girl all smiles as she rather seductively demanded you choose her or her sister.

It'd be after a week of the two fighting for you, constantly arguing and snapping at the other that you'd finally snap, telling them you'd date them both, and that's how it'd be.

And much to your surprise, they agreed.

And that's... well, that's how you ended up as both the bodyguard and the S/O of the two daughters of Carmilla Carmine.

It actually worked out surprisingly well.

You spending time with each of them in their own element.

You and Clara duelling, sparing and enjoying each other physically.

While enjoying Odettes intellect in person, the two of you having many a 'stimulating' conversation, the girl not at all hesitant to tell you she wanted you.

You'd do your best to keep this new dynamic under wraps, not wanting Carmilla to discover your new relationship with not just one, but both of her daughters.

As even if you and Carmilla held a level of mutual respect, that was not a fun prospect on your part.

And keeping up your usual relationship with the woman, the two of you speaking after a job, or even duelling, the Matriarch of her slice of Hell going out of her way to see your consistency, as well as testing your skills.

Your dynamic with the girls would, oddly enough, develope smoothly.

You and Clara bonding and developing in the field, you and the young lady often competing in a playful manner, playing off each other strengths, more then happy to compete with each other's strengths, even if you openly placed her safety over your own.

While you would happily go toe to toe with the feisty Clara, you and Odette happily played off each other, the young woman easily, almost scarily, able to set the scene to dominate you, easily getting you beneath her as she showed off that cunning intelligence.

Your relationships would steadily grow more and more intimate, Clara and Odette having their own, and yet powerful hold over you, both women happy to tease and draw you in, and always dominating you, yet never taking the power from you, happy to make it so you were in control, yet never more then when you were a simple bodyguard.

You'd find yourself in more and more intimate situations with the pair, both Clara and Odette demanding a certain style of... smooching~

You'd end up in a very compromising situation after a particularly stressful mission, you single-handedly defending Odette from a gang of hoodlums.

And dragging you back home, the girl giving Carmilla a hasty debrief on what happened before she'd drag you to her room for a quick 'discussion', the girl instead tying your arms behind you, rather aggressively smooching you as you lay back in one of her chairs, the girl sat on your lap as she unleashed her less then subtlely pent up arousal upon you.

And it'd be as she shoved her tongue down your throat, hands gliding over your form, that Carmilla would knock on the door, asking to speak with Odette.

Of course the girl would freak, hurriedly shoving your clothes into your hands before all but forcing you out through a hidden exit.

You'd stumble from her room, stumbling into the hallway just around the corner from her room as you desperately slid your pants on.

Just managing to get dressed, you stumble along, hopping as you furiously buttoned up your shirt. And reaching further down the Hall, intent on putting space between you and Odettes room.

Only to stumble upon a monolith of a demon.

Zestial.

The tall, slender, green and black demon overlord staring down at your for several moments before a wicked, almost wicked, smirk crossed his face.

He'd release a sinister chuckle, the man sighing softly as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Oh... young love. Sweet as wine, bitter as... well, a wine."

The ancient overlord giggled, the man gently combing your hair back before simply turning, waltzing away, leaving you a shocked, terrified lil demon, you hurriedly scurrying off the second Zestial was out of frame.

Of course, running off to the other daughter, Clara was just as bad. And finding you in only your tight, form fitting, crotch hugging pants.

Clara finding that very interesting~

The two of you hanging in her room.

And by 'haning' I mean she also strapped you to a chair, though this time the young lady had cuffs for it.

Why did she just have a chair and cuffs prepared for you?

That's not important.

But you would grow closer and closer to the pair, though Carmilla seemed intent on breaking up any chance you had to go past a uh, certain barrier.

But it wouldn't be until one sparring match, Carmilla wanting to do a 'live practice', i.e. the two of you using actual angelic weapons in a serious duel, the two of you going at it.

You'd hold nothing back, the woman leaving several nicks and shallow cuts on your body.

While that would be a major fuck up for most, considering Carmillas skills and your own extensive training, you considered yourself more then capable.

It'd be as you fought her off yet again, that the Matriarch would pi you to the wall, her angelic steel heels dangerously close to your throat as she stared you down.

And with a stern gaze the woman would tell you bluntly, she knew.

You'd freeze, able to use the moment to throw her off.

She'd stare you down, telling you bluntly that she knows your having relations with her daughters.

You'd stay there for a long moment before sighing.

You knew if she wanted to kill you she would have already, so, you went clean.

You told her that you didn't know how, or why, but the woman's daughters took an intimate interest in you.

You didn't know how you were blessed to earn their affection but you were, and while you completely understood the woman's trepidation towards you, you swore you'd never do anything to harm them.

Those girls were your very life.

Your reasons to exist.

And while they liked to act like it were a game, you took it seriously.

You loved them, as strange of a dynamic as it was, the two girls meant the world to you, and while you'd gladly give your life for them you'd ask the Matriarch to spare you.

Not for your sake, but for the girls.

Knowing full well if the woman simply killed you it'd not only break their heart but destroy her relationship with the girls.

Carmilla showed no expression, staring you down for several moments before humming.

She'd let you off with a cold stare, telling you while she wasn't fond of her daughters competing for the same person, let alone that person being their supposed bodyguard, she respected your grit, admiring your willingness to hold true to your duty and serve her daughters equally, despite the emotional ties.

She'd tell you she'd respect herr daughter choice in partner, but put bluntly, if you hurt either of them, she'd neuter you like a dog.

And with that terrifying note, you begun an oddly intimate relationship dynamic with the girls.

While initially the dynamic consisted of the two girls competing over you, it quickly morphed into an oddly intimate threeway dynamic, both girls acknowledging you as their natural partner, the two reaching a truce as they both pursued you.

And with Carmillas unspoken blessing, your dynamic bloomed into a surprisingly soft and intimate relationship, the three of you becoming an adoring, intimate trio, finding ahealthy balance and loving each other warmly.

You, Odette and Clara all bound into a loving, warm and deeply intimate relationship, the three of you holding a deeply loving bond as the sisters mutually agreed to pursue you.

An odd dynamic to be sure, but no doubt an equally loving and intimate one.

[silkval]

♟】 the mahogany series- part Ⅱ

thinkin about how your pretty little genshin boys act under your desk...

★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★

♢》 whether they were quickly hurried under your desk to hide them from the person who was knocking at your door, oh-so-rudely interrupting the two of you, or the pretty thing crawled under in desperate want of your attention...

scaramouche, would be the damn definition of a brat at best, an absolute menace at worst- but what could you expect, from your fellow harbingers, so snippy and crude yet always trailing around you like a leech.

and just as per usual, the pouting boy had been lounging around your lavish office, decorated in deep crimsons and gilded silks to reflect your powerful position as the 5th harbinger- how your little... 'dynamic' started with scara in the first place, and why he was here now- that bored, whiny tone of his droning on over your shoulder from his position standing behind you. as you had both grown accustomed to, he had his arms crossed and resting atop the back of the chair, near leaning over you, as he grumbled on about how much he disliked the other harbingers- only to be interrupted by a knock at your door, huffing as he rolled his eyes with a small groan- yet nonetheless complying, and crawling under your desk.

squirming and grumbling as you ushered him under your desk, shooting you a sharp glare as he stumbled to his knees, nearly hitting his head, yet lucking saved as he shot out a hand just in time-

-only for his lissome fingers to land directly on your clothed cock.

quickly retracting his hand as he felt you lurch with a husky groan- only just muffled, yet causing a violent fluster to overtake his porcelain features as his only response was to cross his arms tightly over his chest with his head slightly bowed, knees curled up as he sent a halfhearted kick to your leg- a poor deflect to his growing embarrassment. oh, and he swears he tried to stop his hand twitching, desperately attempting to ignore the flood of vulgar thoughts invading his pretty little head- oh, this was all your fault, he thought. he was the balladeer- the 6th of the fatui harbingers, for archons sake-!

...yet here he was; mind swimming with the feeling of his hand on his superiors dick, how big it'd look compared to his tiny hands- my god.

wonderful. Now you were both stuck in a rather... interesting predicament, all because of the harbingers little mess up.

yet nonetheless, being the responsible person you were... you kept your cool, continuing the meeting with the unsuspecting visitor- as if nothing happened.

scaramouche, on the other hand, was sweating up a storm. the poor boy tried oh-so-hard to divert his gaze from the slight tent in your pants- not understanding why he was so embarrassed about such, but it felt... intimate. personal.

despite all his attempts to keep up his tough façade, a pretty pink flush dusted his features as they twisted into a grumpy, embarrassed pout- failing absolutely miserably. archons, he was one of the most powerful people in teyvat-! he shouldn't be acting like this, all red-faced like a blushing teenage girl, pinked lips wobbling at the unfamiliar feeling of something in his lower belly. yet all he could do was shift uncomfortably and scrunch up his nose as he stretched out his legs, crossing them as quickly as possible in a poor attempt to ignore the incessant throb between his pretty thighs. your voice and the visitors were long ago drowned out as he inwardly cursed furiously at the predicament. yet, he stayed quiet- whether it was out of pure embarrassment and the flurry of emotions he felt, or that deep down need to please you, he did not know.

'fucking hell...' he mumbled, that same embarrassed snarl nearly permanent on his lips as he refused to meet your gaze, a new ripple of heat rushing over his smaller frame as he tried not to give you the satisfaction of seeing him in such a state. just quietly staring up at you dumbly, with that near permanent grumpy pout as you leaned back into the dark leather of your chair- the visitor long gone as an amused smirk curled at your lips, staring down at the pretty thing curled at your feet with a low snicker. "aww, is my tough little harbinger a little overwhelmed, huh?" you drawled, raising a brow with a sly, pointed look. before leaning down, and scooping the smaller man right into your arms- placing him neatly onto your lap.

and archons, scaramouche thought he'd explode any moment by now. your larger, virile hands firmly on his waist, his ass pressing against your not-so-secret bulge-

...he was red. violently so.

"hey-! put me down, you asshole-"

he scrambled, shifting and squirming in your lap- but to absolutely no use as he found himself gazing directly at you, your fingers grazing his jaw as you tilted his head up to face you- your touch only scant, but oh, scaramouche could feel everything. and as much as he tried to deny it, a pretty little whine escaped his reddened lips, already glossy with a line of drool.

' tsk, no need to be ashamed, puppet- I'll teach you how to enjoy yourself, yeah?'

[writtensweethearts]

Sweet Nothings

Read part two here: Unspoken Confessions Pairing: Eddie munson x GN!reader Enemies to lovers ? word count: +1k CW: mentions of blood, death, lmk if i missed something A/N: this is my first time posting a blurb or a piece in general for the public, please be kind and i hope you enjoy!

“God, I swear if you die on me I’ll kill you.” he chokes out angrily, but it lacks any heat. You grin up at him, watching his chocolate eyes fill with tears. 

You suddenly wonder why you hadn’t seen him. 

The barely there freckles, mud splattered cheeks and wild curly hair, the different shades of brown in his glassy eyes. 

His harsh words a complete opposite of his gentle hold, you watch as his fingers push against the angry open wounds of your stomach, trying to keep the blood at bay. The crazed look of his eyes as he darts his head around, waiting for Henderson, another bat, anything. 

“Calm down pretty boy, least you can do is say some sweet nothings to a dying girl.” 

You watch in slight awe as his eyes find yours, tears finally spilling from his lash line, wondering if maybe this time you’ve pushed him too far.

“Don’t say that shit,” he hisses, “you’re not dying. Not on my watch sweetheart.”

You smile at that, the nickname lacking it’s usual mocking tone. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep Munson. You know better than that.”

If he responded you can’t recall, eyes drooping, sleep evading you, the noise of the Upside Down drowning out.

You rouse from the gentle shake of your head, Eddie’s ringed fingers grasping your chin

“Come on, you’ve got to keep your eyes open.” Voice pleading.

“What do I get in return?” He scoffed at that but it comes out more like a breathy sigh of relief, taking your snarky response as a sign of hope. He realizes his response comes a second too late.

You stare at him, eyes a bit dazed and mouth pulled taut, a strange air lingers filling the empty space from a missed witty remark. He can’t help what he says next.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Now you’re the stunned one.

“What?” “I don’t need you saving me princess, look at where that got you.”

You frowned at that. Shit, Eddie thinks he’s struck a nerve. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say, even if you were the girl he’s bickered with for over a year now, constantly exchanging snippy remarks. Maybe he would’ve been able to give you those sweet nothings you’d asked for earlier, had he felt confident enough to say them. But the humid air of the Upside down and the feel of your sticky, warm blood coating his hands has made him angry. Angry at Hawkins for dragging him into shit like this, angry at the Upside Down for existing and upturning his life, angry at himself for allowing you to be at the center of it all. 

It should’ve been him. He’d jumped off the boat, diving into a world unknown, fighting away demonic bats, and risking his life for the good of the world. He’d been ready to let it all go, but you’d come in, chest heaving, Steve’s bat swinging. The two of you on the same team, for once. And it wasn’t until the last bat was down, when he’d turn around yelling and celebrating victory, that he’d noticed. You were holding your stomach, arm dropping the bat you’d held so tightly seconds before. He watched, dumbfounded as you lightly pulled your shirt, revealing large, gaping gashes all across your abdomen. Eddie would never forget the haunted look in your eyes as you dragged your gaze up to his, your body wobbling as you forced yourself to stand still, as if you didn’t want him to see you weak. 

In that moment the world was a blur, he’d called your name hoarsley, afraid, afraid you’d respond with a small pain-filled voice rather the boisterous, mocking tone you used whenever you spoke to him. Afraid to see you, larger than life you, growing weaker and smaller and so unfamiliar.

And yet here you were, his knees digging into your back as he tried to hold your limp body up, looking at him with the same fire in your eyes. This, this is what he’d been wishing for, hadn’t he? But there was something unusual about your gaze, if he hadn’t known any better he’d have said you were hurt by his words.

You blinked, head turning to the side and Eddie cursed. He didn’t know how to act with you, behind all the mean words and heated arguments, he wasn’t sure how to move forward. So here you were, blood soaking through your clothes, onto his, and he was spewing ungrateful words to the girl who’s losing her life from saving his. A girl he’s never been able to properly behave around, a girl who, behind her back, he’d watched fondly with honey coated eyes. 

“I.. I’m sorry.” He mumbled out, your eyes snapping back to his, “God I’m so so sorry.”

His voice wobbling as reality began to settle in, “It should’ve been me. It should’ve. I’m repeating senior year and not for the first time, I’m being hunted for murder, and you. You’ve got such a big life to live, a great one, and I just-” His rambling comes to an end as you’re fingers gingerly swipe a stray curl behind his ears.

“Hey.” You smile up at him, and God, if it didn’t make Eddie’s heart want to burst at the sight of it. “It’s okay.” You watch him, his eyes doubtful, his hands never leaving you as he keeps pressure on your wounds, “I mean come on, I had to, you’ve got to get back and show them you can make it through highschool. Thought you said this was ‘your year.’” 

He laughs but it’s all watery and choked, and it makes your chest hurt in an unfamiliar way. It’s getting harder and harder to fight the sleep taking over, the lofty sound of Eddie’s voice whispering the sweet nothings you’d playfully asked for, dreams of a better life, swearing on his heart that he’ll get you out of this hell hole, safe, alive. You send him a sleepy smile, knowing he’s making more promises he can’t keep, but his eyes are shining with tears so you return the gesture and whisper another, “It’s okay, Eds.” before you let his voice lull you to bed.

[masterkeynobi]

usually i loathe when a protagonist gets turned into a "bad" parent in a sequel series but tortall does it so well and so realistically that i can't help but think it'd be ooc any other way. of course alanna is gruff and sometimes unkind and not always present. of course jonathan must do what is best for realm and reputation; of course he's king first, father second. jon's parenting style is visible from the start in how roald acts during his page years — jon as a page sees ralon held down and beaten for the crime of bothering little alan; roald, much as he wants to, can't so much as join kel on her nighttime patrols for fear of how it'd look. jon takes alanna on as a squire because they're good friends & lovers; roald has had his knight-master picked out for him for years before he's even made a squire.

alanna gets along well enough with alan and thom, her knightling and her scholar, but she can't for the life of her understand how aly works. in my opinion this has something to do both with the fact that aly is a lot more like george in the most dangerous ways and with the fact that aly is rather significantly more of a Girl than alanna ever was. alanna had no (0) female friends growing up and only one older female mentor figure. she grew up and still lives the vast majority of her life surrounded by men of similar status. is it any surprise she finds her sons easier to talk to?

there's a passing sentence in trickster's choice that alludes to aly having once been jealous of how effusive her mother was about keladry of mindelan. i can't help but think also about kalasin ii of conté, kally whose mother's people are matrilineal, kally who should by rights have been her mother's heir. kally who calls the lioness aunt and wanted as a child nothing more than to be a knight, who will spend the rest of her life in carthak and likely never see a lady knight again. i think she was jealous of kel too, but in the opposite direction. aly couldn't and wouldn't be who kel was, too protective of her own freedom and too much like her father to ever want a shield. aly envied the easy understanding alanna had of kel's ambitions and grit. kalasin had those same ambitions but never got the chance to show that same grit. kalasin spent the four years of kel's page training at king's reach learning to be an empress.

it's the. not wanting and choosing not to do vs the wanting and not having the choice. it's the jealousy someone so distant from alanna got so much of her attention when her interactions with her own daughter were constantly snippy vs the thought that kally should've been there first, should've gotten to prove the conservatives wrong, should've been able to show kel around and shield (ha) her from the worst of their ire. no little girls will grasp wide-eyed for tales of aly cooper or empress kalasin the same way they do for the lioness and lady kel. i don't think aly minds, but i think kalasin very, very quietly does.

[b3nnyrafe]

thinking about rafe with a mean!reader 😩

ੈ✩‧₊˚ rafe met you at one of his parties. he watched you cuss out a girl for bumping into your friend and he swore he fell in love.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ he spent weeks trying to get your attention, and usually that wasn’t hard for rafe when it came to girls. but you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when he did, he was weak in the knees.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you were a bitch but that made you so much more interesting. and watching you own a room— it was a turn on for him.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ but, dating you wasn’t for the weak. boys on your tail every time you breath, he was in for a ride.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ it wasn’t long before everyone realized who you belonged to after rafe went psycho on a boy at a party. you fucked him that night.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ don’t be fooled, rafe takes no bullshit. yes, he loves your personality but he was in charge. one day, you got to snippy, calling him names, rolling your eyes— it was to much.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ he remembered that night like it was yesterday. “yeah? teach you not to be a disrespectful slut, hm?” he said, choking you from behind while fucking you with everything he had. he moved your hair out your face, cooing to you. “nah, you take what I give you.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ he loved being the only one that could put you in your place. one look from him and you knew.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ when rafe argued with his dad for the first time, he wasn’t surprised when you defended him. he gave you the best head after that.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ you were the perfect match. maybe?

more of this? yay or nay???? yalll I need requests!! 😩😩 smut or sfw!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the Asshole for tipping?

My (21M) girlfriend (22F) and I like to go to restaurants every now and again to spend time with each other between classes. I love it! I love her a lot and I really love getting to treat her like a princess when we go, but there's been a recent issue as of late. My girlfriend deeply hates it when we get a girl waiter and usually tries and gets the host to switch out if possible, which usually is. I was a waiter myself and I know it's a pain, but she gets pissed if I say in anyway I'm fine or would like a waitress. But from our last trip, the host was unable to do so and we had to have her. I don't care what the gender of the waiter is, but my girlfriend does because "she doesn't even want to think about the idea of them flirting with me." I would never cheat on my girlfriend, I genuinely love her, but she has a deep insecurity she won't tell me why for and gets upset about any women I'm not related to near me. It was annoying in the beginning of our relationship and she's gotten slightly better since, but she still doesn't like waitresses.

But back to the point, she was very snippy with the waitress and was acting like a bit of a karen which was embarrassing. By the time we were done eating, I just wanted to go home but she asked the waitress to go and box our food for us (typically they just had us the to go boxes and customers do it themselves at this restaurant) and it just felt terrible to watch. I always pay when we eat out, and I wanted to leave a big tip as a way of apologizing for my girlfriend's behavior but I knew she'd be pissed at me if I left one (even though I try and tip 15-20% when I can always). After my girlfriend got up, I quickly left $5 under my cup. I knew it was an incredibly crappy tip but it was all the cash I had on me so the day after, I called the restaurant and asked them to charge a 25% tip to my card if they could and to make sure it went to the waitress who dealt with us. They said they would which is great, but I'm very worried that what I did was wrong. I want to make clear, I love my girlfriend! And I would never cheat on her, in any way and I always try to make that clear to her and try not to act friendly with other girls, but I'm also an ex-waiter and I know just how my day has been countlessly ruined by customers that treat me like a crap and leave insulting tips (or no tip at all) and I didn't want that waitress to feel that way (not insinuating that I like her or am into her, I just know how it is to work with customers , waiter to waiter). I know to my girlfriend she would think this is cheating, and I don't want her to feel bad at all or insecure but I also don't want the waitress to feel bad. I've been talking about it with some friends, but I thought I might ask here, was I the asshole for tipping? Should I have just forgotten about it? Thank you

What are these acronyms?

[bobosbillionsknives]

(not shipping content)

It's one of my biggest headcanons ever that Vash does NOOOT like his birthday dude I just can't believe it...Knives however. Biggest birthday enjoyer ever. He is the special birthday boy. 🤗🤗🤗

Knives usually leaves Vash alone but Vash KNOWS Knives is going to make an effort to show up on their birthday and it stresses him out so bad. Especially if the July incident was on their birthday...that would leave horrible memories for him. 😭 Not to mention how painful remembering his first birthday with Rem would be. Plus Knives would act so bitchy about it like wooow dont even want to see your own brother on your birthday wow. I get it I'm just the worst ever ..🥀 Vash would be so over it.

I feel so strongly that Vash is the introvert while Knives is the extrovert. Knives self isolates out of fear and disgust of humans but he secretly thrives while talking to others. Especially if they have strong opinions he can argue against (definitely a debate bro). If Knives had a normal childhood he would've loved big crowds, he has absolutely no social awareness or shame . Or filter. He'd talk to anyone who'd listen. Knives drives himself absolutely insane with his own isolation. All he really wants is social connection, something he's convinced himself is impossible with humans. That's why he's so fixated on getting Vash to stay, he feels Vash is the only person he can actually talk to. Vash on the other hand, would do anything for 5 minutes alone. He is constantly pushing away Milly, Meryl, and even Wolfwood. He cannot let anyone know him beyond his silly guy persona. He especially doesn't like being celebrated (doesn't think he deserves it. 😂😂😂) He is constantly trying to skip out on the parties towns people throw for him, leaving without saying goodbye. (He does like getting drunk tho...makes talking easier) He'd never EVER share his birthday with anyone. Especially not Wolfwood or the girls. Knives however, would tell EVERYONE !!! (like how the entire Gung Ho Gun knew Knives had a brother, but Meryl had no idea Vash did. I think Knives loves talking about himself and his tragic past, painting himself as the forever victim to absolutely anyone who'd listen. To Vashes absolute horror 😭.) Vash is constantly drained from forcing himself to perform socially. He loves people and talking to them but he just needs like. 8 hours of alone time to properly function. That's why he gets so bitchy with everyone sometimes lol. She just needs a naaaaap omg 🤦‍♂️. But he feels guilty for being snippy and tired so he'll force himself to be social anyway. Which makes it worse. Love hiiim !!!! 😍 Either way they're both hurting themselves when they behave like this.

Knives is definitely the yapper while Vash just listens. I feel like Vash would appreciate not having that pressure to constantly respond. Even if Knives can be overbearing, I do think they enjoy each other's company. When they aren't... trying to murder each other. Nobody knows him like Knives does, it would almost be relieving not having to pretend to be happy all the time. He can perfectly morally justify being as mean to Knives as he wants to be !! And he wouldn't admit it, but he does enjoy listening to Knives complain about nothing. He thinks it's funny. Knives is just happy to be with someone he's deemed worthy of his time. He views Vash as his equal, someone he actually trusts to confide in. They are the opposite and also the same in every way life is so beautiful I love these guys.

It would also just be such a cute subversion of audience expectation if Knives, the self proclaimed people hater, was a people person. I think that's sooo interesting and makes so much sense with the context of his desperation for the approval of humans when he was a child. I think kid Knives would've tried to argue that celebrating something everyone goes through is pointless, but would love all the attention anyway. Even be a bit resentful that it was Vashes birthday too if he didn't seem to appreciate the attention as much. As he got older hed mellow out and warm up to the idea of having a birthday and sharing it. Mostly as an excuse to talk to Vash and make everything about himself again. Lol. Plus I think he likes organizing parties. His dream is to have that sweet 16 fantasy the humans in the old world used to have. He actually wants to be normal is the thing. They both do.