#The trio were all well cast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erwinsvow · 9 days

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GOT WHAT YOU WANTED

summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.

now spinning: too many nights by metro & future

word count: 11.5k

warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)

truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry.

it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs.

those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.

to jj that is.

you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.

jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you.

“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this.

“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire.

jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.

“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.

“other.. boy?”

“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.

“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”

“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”

“no. it didn’t come up.”

“ah. got it.”

“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.

“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.

you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.

“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”

“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”

“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve.

and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.

but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it.

you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”

“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you.

“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.

“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.

“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it.

it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.

“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”

“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.

“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”

“guys-”

“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”

“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”

“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.

“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj.

whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.

“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”

“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?��

“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.

“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”

“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.

“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.”

“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.

“yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t.”

“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.

“no, she’s not.”

“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”

“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”

“no you fuckin’ don’t.”

“who are you to tell me-”

“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”

you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.

“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”

“what else do you want me to say, huh?”

“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”

“m’not ignoring anything-”

“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”

“shut up.”

“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”

“what? what do you want?”

“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”

“don’t talk like that.”

“rafe.”

exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you.

that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet.

you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with.

the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.

rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.

“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out.

you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.

“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.

“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.

“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”

“is that your way of apologizing?”

“it’s not an apology.”

“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“i didn’t.”

“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”

rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.

“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.

“thanks rafe.”

“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window.

“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.

“kid.”

“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.

“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.

“but you get to do it?”

“that’s different-”

“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.

“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”

“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”

“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”

“rafe. shut up.”

“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”

“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”

“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”

“rafe?” “yeah?”

“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.

“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”

“goodbye, rafe.”

you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.

sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality.

then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you.

key word: maybe.

the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement.

maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.

you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.

.☘︎ ݁˖

rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him.

“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”

“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.

“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.

“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”

“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.

“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.

“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”

“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”

“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”

“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”

“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”

“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.

“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”

“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.

“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.”

“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.

he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped.

when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning.

you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.

if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you.

kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.

“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.

“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.

“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water.

“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”

“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.

“then shut up ‘bout it.”

“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.

when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.

“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you.

the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.

“yeah. i guess i am.”

you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.

“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.

“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”

“you need a ride?”

“no, i drove here, remember?”

“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”

“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.

“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.

“talk about it? talk about what?”

“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”

“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.

“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.

“oh my god-”

“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.

“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”

“what? your mom let me in.”

“you didn’t even text-”

“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”

“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”

“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.

“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.

“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”

“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.

“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”

“oh.”

“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.

“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.

“what about that girl?”

“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”

“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”

“oh. okay. promise?”

“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.

“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.

“alright. get on the bed.”

“rafe-”

“what? i just said-”

“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”

“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”

“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”

“ha-ha. get on the bed.”

“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”

“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”

you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe.

you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head.

the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.

rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.

“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”

“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.

“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.

he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.

“you wearin’ anything under this?”

he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no.

“good girl.”

your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties.

you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.

“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”

before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.

“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!”

“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”

you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.

you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you.

rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers.

“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand.

limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.

“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?

“nothin’.”

“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”

“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.

“what?”

“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea.

he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to.

“god, you’re such a boy.”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.

“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.

“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.

“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.

“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”

“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away.

you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.

you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.

he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder.

your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.

with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours.

you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.

he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy.

rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.

“you didn’t last very long.”

“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”

“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”

“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.

“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay.

you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry.

“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest.

“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”

“your parents are downstairs, remember?”

“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.

“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”

“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”

“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.

“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes.

“why? got nowhere else to be.”

“oh. okay.”

“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”

“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.

“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.

and the part where you slept with your best friend.

a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.

top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere

kelce: maybe princess finally killed him

top: stop hanging out without us

kelce: top lets just pull up next time

you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.

“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.”

“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”

“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”

rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.

“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”

you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.

“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”

rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.

“you wanna say that again?”

“uhh-”

“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”

“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”

“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.

“get out!”

“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”

“okay! wait, stay.”

“s’what i thought.”

“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.

“you woke me up.”

“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”

“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.

“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.

“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone.

about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.

you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.

but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it.

with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not.

after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead.

the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.

“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.

“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”

“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.

“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”

“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”

“you too. tell them i say hi.”

the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.

you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you.

you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.

“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.

“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.

“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”

“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.

“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”

“thanks top.”

you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top.

walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.

it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on.

“hey.”

“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”

“yeah.”

“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”

“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.

“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”

“yeah, i did.”

“i just hope they’re sweet.”

“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”

“it’s a great day. good weather.”

“you already said that.”

“oh.”

“would you stop and look at me?”

“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.

“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.

“i’m fine.. are you okay?”

“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”

“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”

“you were on board-”

“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”

“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.

“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”

“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.

“why are you being so nice about it?”

“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”

“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”

“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”

“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”

“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”

“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.

“you’re starin’.”

“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”

“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”

turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.

from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.

“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.

“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”

you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear.

he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.

“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.

“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”

“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck.

“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away

“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.

“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.

your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.

you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.

“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.

“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.

“fun. what time?”

.☘︎ ݁˖

finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.

“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.

“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat.

you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.

topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now).

you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.

inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks.

the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.

“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.

“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.

“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.

he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands.

if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.

“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.

he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.

“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.

“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot.

he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.

“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.

“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”

“but i made the last one!”

“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”

“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.

for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.

“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.

“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”

“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you.

“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.

“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer.

“alright, you’re cut off.”

the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him.

you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.

“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”

“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.

“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.

“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.

“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch.

you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.

this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are.

rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.

“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”

“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.

“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”

“man, why am i always on top watch-”

in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.

“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.

kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now.

“enough. why?”

“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.

“you saw me?”

“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.

“what, you jealous, kid?”

“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.

“no, m’not.”

you bite your cheek and stare out the window.

“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.

tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.

you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.

you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?

grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.

“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.

“the couch.”

“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”

“i’m starting something new.”

“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.

you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.

“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.

rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.

“what the hell was that?”

“this whole thing was a mistake.”

“it’s been two days.”

“well i’m an emotional fuck!”

“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.

“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?”

“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”

“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”

“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”

“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?”

in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.

or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.

the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you.

you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.

and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.

“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”

“you should have just confessed.”

“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”

“it’s been two days,” you mock.

“yeah, well, we tried it.”

“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.

“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”

“so if we break up-”

“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”

“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”

“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”

“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”

#😭here it is #i am so nervous about this if you think it’s ass . i apologize in advance #kook trio reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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shiny-jr · 10 months

Text

we just got a letter, wonder who it’s from

Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

Summary: (Continuation, after this and short series which started here) Upon realizing their mistakes and the result of their cruel acts and rash decisions, the main cast are heartbroken and devastated.

Note: Here it is, the reactions people have been asking for over a year already. Well, kinda. The is the post to set up the story to it, and as the previous parts, I’ll be splitting them.

Next part.

Afterthought.

When the raging storm quelled, news got out quickly to clear your name. The information spread as fast as the declaration from a week ago claiming you were an imposter. Just as swiftly came the apologies.

Ramshackle became your safe haven. It was ironic that the resting place of your vessel became your sanctuary. As for your vessel, well, it was a bit unnerving to look at. It looked more like a realistic life-sized doll to you, like the type that should be contained in glass and admired in wacky museums. Not knowing what else to do with it, Grim had helped you move Yuu to a spare bedroom where the vessel would be kept under lock and key.

But, besides the vessel, you had more pressuring matters at hand. Throughout that whole ordeal, there were countless hunting you down and only few you might’ve considered an ally or a neutral party. So, those given permission to step foot in Ramshackle were far and few in between. Priority was given to Grim, of course. The loyal feline had helped you through it all and without him... well, you didn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened to you. Others allowed were the trio of ghosts who hadn’t assisted in the hunt for you. No matter how members of other dorms attempted to pry information such as where Grim might’ve gone when he first vanished, the ghosts never told a thing mostly because they didn’t know but also because they were not quick to assume a random person was some sort of imposter. Additionally, when time allowed, the staff came by to check on your condition as they realized this was a delicate situation and their students had traumatized you.

These were the only people you allowed yourself to interact with. For your own mental health, you avoided stepping outside. You never even opened the windows or balcony in fear of seeing the face of one of the characters you once adored but had tried to harm you. And it wasn’t just paranoia speaking. You knew they came by, as sometimes Grim looked out a window and sneered in disgust. However, it seemed that none of them had the confidence to knock on the door, or maybe they knew better than to expect a warm welcome after what they had done.

The letters came shortly after. Probably someone’s bright idea of penning a classy apologetic letter, which others copied and it soon became a trend. Some sent multiple messages, others sent gifts. With not much else to do in the dorm besides wait for your physical injuries to heal, you knew this would probably do you no good for your mental wounds, but you decided to read a few of them anyways. Not all of them, that would take all day. But, you’d let Grim claim whatever spoils he wanted from the heap of presents while you read one letter from each student you knew.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #I didn't ask to get isekaied #twst imposter au #we just got a letter wonder who it’s from

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 15 days

Text

w.count: 2k - wanderer finally got his name and he feels like he's gotta tell someone... (bet yall never saw this comin)

there was a humming in his head. and it felt heavy. like he had been dunked in a bin of well water and had only just resurfaced. regaining a whole past life of memories on top of immediately being thrown into combat with the past life god version of yourself... it certain had a kick to it. that kick being the biggest headache the nameless wanderer has ever experienced... past or present.

the wanderer had only just recovered all his past memories through simulations provided graciously by the dendro archon. trying to separate the dull, mindlessly kind life he had been living in this lifetime from the one he had just remembered where he was anything but? the whiplash was enough to make anyone second guess pretty much everything.

in the background of his emotional recollection the nameless mechanical puppet could hear the traveler and paimon talk back and forth with the small buer herself. just because he could hear them though, didn't mean he was listening.

wanderer's back turned away from them for a moment and his hand lifts up to pinch between his eyes, palm resting on the tip of his nose as he swallows back a sigh. they were talking about him following nahida's guidance, and he had no qualms with it, really. he just felt overwhelmed... not that he could say so aloud.

the trio continued talking and soon decided to grant him a new name. if it didn't have any connection to that insufferable man who was the root cause of all his suffering to begin with he didn't have a preference anyway-

"are you sure?" the nameless doll asked the blond traveler who had just spoken the new name he would eventually be using. "...ah, alright, if you say so."

-at least... he thought he had no preference.

wanderer had no issue with the name itself. it was given to him by someone who- foolishly- help him regain his memories and set him straighter. a debt he would have to eventually repay somehow since even he was capable of being grateful to someone. but, the way it sounded coming out of the traveler's mouth felt... wrong. like they weren't the right person to say it first; which made absolutely no sense as they're the one who came up with it in the first place. paimon had also not yet come up with an 'ugly nickname', but that wasn't his problem to begin with.

there was this digging in the back of his mind, like he had some other place to be. his legs were itching to move, feet ready to take him out of the sanctuary of surasthana. so, without much resistance, he listened to the silent cries of his mechanical body.

"goodbye, wise deity, and you two."

even if his jumbled up mind didn't process where his body was taking him, he trusted it to take him where he thought he ought to be. besides, with his new vision in hand even if he walked into some place dangerous to the common person- he could handle it.

its crazy that just this morning he was walking through these same streets of sumeru city as virtually a whole different person. the mild-mannered boy who would return the smallest favors just to keep himself occupied. now he was different, but not the same as the 'him' who's memories he had regained. a combination of the two, just messy and unbalanced right now.

the sun was setting and casting the city in shadows and orange hues. mindlessly, wanderer had meandered down and out of the city gates. walking and casting glances to and fro before a small hut had entered his peripherals. his auto-piloted body stopped just short of a full step before kicking up speed. his easy gait turned rushed and before he knew it, he was jogging to the hut.

it was a tea hut. just a small one. a couple bench tables out front, a small chimey in the roof and what seemed like hardly enough room inside for five people and a stove to fit comfortably. still, the smell of boiled tea leaves hung in the air like invisible ribbons. just standing in front of the closed-up shop filled him with familiarity.

the memories that had been muddled started to separate into clearer views the longer he stood in the dirt just looking around at the lackluster area.

wanderer's shoulders jumped when the door that had been closed to the tea hut creaked open. a body carrying a small wicker basket with a cloth over it had pushed it open with their back, rolling it onto their shoulder before stepping out and letting it swing shut at their back.

"ah!" they- you- jolt. the sun was setting and normally people don't fancy a cup of tea at late hours where your little humble hut stood, so seeing the feet of someone in front of the building spooked you. the wicker basket had dropped to the dirt, causing small plumes of dust to breathe over your ankles. "you scared me- oh!" the stranger in which had scared you, was no stranger to you at all. "i didn't think i'd be seeing you again so soon."

"yeah..." the wanderer's voice was practically a whisper only carried by the wind. he knew you- the previous mild-mannered boy did anyway.

among his wandering, he had happened upon your hut and with nothing better to do had ordered tea from you. you were a chatter box. easily conversing and holding all sort of topics of discussion with your customers- as few as they may be.

he couldn't remember if it was because of your tea that was somehow exactly to his liking or if it was because, back then, he enjoyed the company, but he did remember frequently returning to this tea hut.

he had come several times and as embarrassing as it was to admit, he had built a sort of bond with you. to the point where he had explained to you that he had no name and always felt like he was missing something in his life. of course he didn't disclose everything there is to him, but just enough to ease the weight in his chest just ever so slightly.

'maybe you lost your memory or something? i've heard lesser lord kusanali can do all sorts of things, so maybe she could help!'

you had pitched that to him one time. probably just to try and cheer him up or something. who knew that you'd end up being right on the mark.

"is something the matter?" you had disregarded the basket at your feet- it was empty anyway- and came a bit closer to the nameless boy.

"no, it's nothing." he told you. something in his tone immediately gave him away. it wasn't the soft tone you had grown used to. it sounded choked, like he was trying to act. you think for a moment before twisting halfway around back towards the hut's door.

"you stay put here," you tell him. his gaze moves to finally look you in the eyes and his own twitch and burn when they connect. he's always hated eye contact, but yours felt so comfortable. "i'll go and make a cup of tea for you. since you like it black, it won't take long."

the feeling that drops into his gut when your eyes break away from his and you back stares to his gaze instead was akin to a type of panic.

"hold on-!" his voice was quiet, clogged in his throat and he felt pretty pathetic when it left his lips. his body again moves all on its own and before he could reel himself in, his hands grab onto you.

with your back to him, his hands grasp both of your biceps and keeps you in place like a shield between him and the rigidity ol' hut. you could feel the tips of his sandals at the back of your heels and the presence of his body behind you signaling how close he really was. his forehead rests on the back of your neck, just under the dip of your skull. the tip of his nose tickles your neck when your shoulders raise with each intake of breath.

"uhm," you have no idea what's gotten into him or why he's acting so strange, but it's not like you really had time to ask before he was spilling his guts.

"i got my memories back." he sounded so solemn, as he feels your shoulder's jolt.

"really?!" your voice was loud as it echoed in the empty space around. it sounded excited, curious too. "I bet that's a loud off your shoulders, huh?" you light heartedly say.

"in a way." he couldn't admit his past wrongs to you- even if all of that was in a whole other timeline. he still did so many awful things and he wouldn't deny it. "i might act differently towards you now that i know... who i am."

"that's alright, isn't it?" against the crown of his bowed head that made a home against your neck, he feels your head tilt back. your arms shifted too, like they had moved to cup your chin. he could picture it perfectly in his head when he closes his eyes.

"its complicated."

"well, that's alright too."

"is it?" his jaw clenches as your arms go lax again.

"can i turn around?"

"not yet."

"why not?"

"because i said so." his eyebrow twitches.

"oh, so you're demanding now?" you tease.

"that a problem?" he teases back, a chuckle brushing your neck as he does. he knows what you're doing and he's thankful for it. the banter is relaxing.

"not at all."

it's a while before he's finally dropping his hands from your arms, and letting you turn around. your hands on your hips as you look at him in the face again. he's calmed down, feels tired, and a little embarrassed at how his body impulsively moved in such a mushy, romantic-coded way. if he had a gag reflex, he probably would've gagged at such a cliche action of his own limbs.

"so, do you still like your tea black?"

wanderer's arms came to cross over his chest, his stern face relaxing into what was probably a bit more of a harsh tone than you were used to in the past. you didn't say it out loud, but this version of him would take some getting used to.

"of course i do. sweets are sickening." you burst out into laughter at his words and the disgusted tone accompanying them. in the past he would've politely stated that they 'weren't to his liking' or something. not outright rejected the idea of sweets.

"that's good. i was worried i'd have to relearn your usual cup of tea." you pop your fist into your opposing hand before your changing the subject away from tea preferences. "oh yeah! since you remember things, do you remember your name?"

"i've had several," he states curtly. "none of them i use anymore." he watched your face twist in confusion before falling into something like disappointment. were you really that excited to finally get to put a name to his face? he sighs. "a... friend," he grits, "technically gave me a new one. since i have nothing else to go by right now, i'll probably be using that for the time being." your eyes relit in excitement. he feels his insides get hot.

"that's great! what is it? i want to know!" you were pushy and he scoffs amusedly at it. the traveler's voice echoed in his memory, his new name bouncing around in his mind. then it all made sense with you in front of him.

reaching up, he pulled on your cheek. you squawk and whine as he stretches the soft flesh, pinching it between his fingertips. no wonder it sounded wrong coming out of that meddler's mouth. it's because it wasn't you and his subconscious knew it before he did. gross, he hisses to himself internally again.

"i'm only going to tell you once, so you better pay attention." the not-so-nameless boy released your cheek, watching bemusedly as you rubbed the sore piece of your face. his stance shifts, relaxes with his arms crossing comfortably over his chest. and with direct eye contact and an easy, yet almost smug smile on his face, he told you...

"my name is..."

a/n: okay this is kinda sorta really messy and i apologize for that

#genshin impact #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #genshin impact wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer #scaramouche #wanderer headcanons #wanderer scenarios #wanderer genshin #genshin wanderer #wanderer fic #wanderer blurb

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grandline-fics · 4 months

Note

Hi there! I really like your writings and I wanted to request about strawhat crew reactions to over power reader, (if its too much you can just do the monster trio reaction) even better when they didn't think the reader would be so strong. you can make the scenarios however you like! thank you and stay safe muach ❤

DESCRIPTION: You’re so much stronger than they thought

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

WORDS: 1,274

A/N: Thank you for the request and hopefully you like what I came up with for this. I tried to make each scenario different so hopefully it works.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

Luffy glared as he raced through the headquarters of their current enemy. He had dropped his guard for a moment and in that time the entire crew had been split up into fights by the different henchmen. While he had every confidence in the strength of the others and knew they would win, he couldn’t help but worry for you. You were newer to the crew but in that time, Luffy couldn’t help but feel more protective and aware of you compared to how he felt of the others. He knew that being a pirate was a dangerous life and in a way that was part of the fun of it all but he just didn’t want to see you hurt.

It didn’t help his worrying to see that your opponent was the Boss’ right hand man, someone Luffy could sense was just as dangerous as the Boss. He’d done all he could to end his fight as fast as he could but it was hard to stay focussed and not put himself at risk. Luffy stumbled slightly as he ran through the building, feeling one injury in particular throb painfully. After he rescued you he would track down Chopper and get patched up. At least that had been the plan.

Around him the building began to rumble as the sound of distant impacts drew closer and louder. Luffy slid to a halt just as the wall to his side burst into pieces and a body slammed against the floor in a bloodied heap. Luffy tilted his head to the side and lightly rolled the person over, eyebrows raising in surprise to see the henchman he’d been worried would hurt you lying in front of him. Had Sanji or Zoro finished their fight and helped you?

No that didn’t seem right. None of the injuries matched his crewmate’s handiwork. This was different but he knew whoever was behind it was strong. Behind him he heard someone approach and he turned to see you slowly climbing from the holes in the wall. You’d been ready to land another blow to your opponent just incase your last attack hadn’t done the trick. You were glad to see that he was defeated but you were surprised to see Luffy there. “Hey, Luffy. You finished your fight too?” You asked with a smile while dusting yourself off from the debris. “Come on, we should find the others and get out of here.” Luffy looked over your slightly bruised and cut body and grinned happily. It seemed you could look after yourself just fine.

ZORO

“What the hell is this?” Zoro asked as he sheathed his swords and stepped towards where you were sitting in the middle of a destroyed battlefield, your opponents and rubble cast around. You looked up from your spot to smile in greeting to the swordsman before looking around at what you’d done. “You took them all out?” He asked, unable to keep the surprise and slight disappointment from his tone.

“Well I was going to leave half for you but I got bored of waiting and I could only toy with them for so long.” You told him with a light shrug while trying not to feel too guilty about your actions. You honestly hadn’t intended to do it all on your own. When you and Zoro had teamed up to deal with the enemy on this side of the base you hadn’t expected him to get lost the second you took your eyes off of him. You weren’t too worried about his wandering, knowing he’d get to where he was meant to eventually. Zoro looked at you silently, taking in your relaxed words.

You hadn’t been on the crew for very long and any previous fights they’d been involved in you hadn’t really stood out to him. Yes you dealt with your opponent but he hadn’t seen you do anything on this scale before and part of him wished he had seen you go all out like this first hand. For one thing you looked completely unharmed, maybe a scratch or two but nothing ultimately serious or painful. For another he could see by the destruction around you both and the injuries on the unconscious group you were clearly powerful. He couldn’t help but scowl and drop his hands back to his swords, he really wanted to find someone to fight, he’d been looking forward to this. You watched Zoro and lightly bit your lower lip as you fought a smile.

“Were you hoping to protect me from the enemy?” You teased lightly, deciding to try and distract him from his annoyance at not getting to fight. As expected he tensed and looked at you in disbelief. “That’s so sweet! I promise the next enemy we find you can have them all to yourself and I’ll be your swooning ‘damsel in distress’ okay?” You asked with a grin that grew when he lightly shoved your shoulder.

“Don’t be an idiot, it’s not like that.” He muttered, looking away from your face as you laughed. “Besides you can’t ‘let me’ have the next enemy. I’ll cut them down before you even know they’re there.” Zoro declared while scratching the back of his neck, now sensing just how dangerous you were going to be both on and off the battlefield.

“Sounds like a fun challenge, Zoro.” you grinned.

SANJI

Sanji stood in shock as he stared out from the railing of the Sunny. Where a line of Marine ships had once been with the intent on blocking their path and taking them down was now reduced to destroyed hulls, floating rigging and debris as the officers on board clambered to stay afloat or make the attempt to swim for dry land. Every Marine no longer paid them any mind as the Sunny sailed away from them. It had been over in a matter of minutes and you were the one responsible.

When the ships had first appeared you’d asked Luffy to throw you over and you would take care of things. You’d just joined the crew and dealing with the annoyance of a Marine blockade seemed like the fair thing to do to earn your keep. Sanji and a couple of others were about to protest, about to say that it wasn’t down to just you to deal with them but Luffy being the impulsive Captain that he was believed in you and tossed you through the air without a second thought. His faith in your was quickly proven when you destroyed the ships in your way like it was as easy as swatting an insect. When the last vessel had crumbled, Luffy stretched his arm across to pull you back to them.

While it was a positive to have another strong member on the crew, Sanji hadn’t been prepared to see just how powerful you were. He cleared his mind from the shock and approached with his usual flirtatious smile on his lips. When he’d first met you he’d been taken by how attractive you were and now that he’d seen how physically strong and capable you were, he was already falling harder for you. “That was a wonderful sight! How lucky we are that you’ve joined our crew because if you were to leave us now, I’d be like those ships back there; completely broken.” He grinned at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the overly sweet and somewhat cheesy declaration from the cook, knowing that his heart was in the right place. You looked up at Sanji with a bright smile. “Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

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mitsuyeaah · 10 months

Note

hey, i was wondering how bonten (or ran, rindo, and sanzu) would act if they misunderstood a situation between you and your older brother and they got all jealous. (no inc*st or step-cest or anything like that). it’s a funny trope so i thought i’d ask lol

MISUNDERSTANDINGS

syn: bonten trio accidentally misunderstanding a situation between you and your older brother.

TR ft. RAN, RINDOU, SANZU

cw: swearing, jealous!bonten trio but other than that, just pure fluff, pet names (baby, babe, princess, darling)

a/n: sorry this took quite a while, anon! wrote this while i was at the gym hehe

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ RAN HAITANI

— tries to understand the situation. ran tries to keep a cool front, keyword: tries. he knows he’s mature enough to not jump to conclusions but it’s driving him absolutely crazy so he resorts to confrontation.

“oh, hey babe! just getting this sorted out.” ran stared at the scene in front of him, he could feel his limbs tingling from he didn’t know what exactly—jealousy? anger? confusion? you sat on the living room floor, assembling the new coffee table you and ran had bought; it was all fine until his eyes landed on a man sitting across you, helping with the furniture. what the fuck? you had come up to him so casually with another man in his presence, kissing his cheek as you greeted him. were you not ashamed one bit? guilty? that another man was under the roof the two of you shared? stepped foot in a home designed for you and him only? ran stood there, pools of lilac boring holes onto the unknown man’s head.

you turned to ran, noticing the shift in his aura but his eyes were locked onto the man next to you. before you could call out his name, he opened his mouth, “and who might you be? didn’t know we had a.. guest, if i may.” his tone was flat and cold but a saccharine smile made its way to his lips as if to taunt the man. you furrowed your brows, “ran—” “no, princess. i want to hear from him. he’s got his own voice, yeah?” you blinked up at ran as he cut you off. was he being for real right now? why was he being rude?

your older brother let out an awkward chuckle and scratched at his nape, “i’m- i’m their older brother.. uh, nice to meet you, ran haitani, right?” your sibling hastily stood up, jutting out an arm at ran who looked like he had seen a ghost. every single feeling was drained from his body at the man’s introduction. well shit. “darling.. i’ve told you about my older brother so many times.. do you not remember?” ran wracked around his brain. shit. shit. you had told him but he somewhat forgot about it.

he stood there for a few seconds before quickly shaking your brother’s hand, “oh fuck, i’m so sorry! shit shit— i didn’t mean to be rude at all!” ran’s eyes widened before profusely bowing in front of your older brother. you bit back a smile, ran has never acted like this before—it was such a sight to see him all flustered and embarrassed. a man who’s nothing but self assured turned into a flustered mess in front of your brother. “you treat all strangers like this..?” your brother mused, clearly joking. ran’s mouth opened and closed as he turned crimson red. both you and your sibling laughed out loud at his awkward state.

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ RINDOU HAITANI

— waits for you to admit it. rindou is not a man of many words, he doesn’t really like confrontations and would rather hear it from you without him having to ask you—even if it swarms his thoughts day and night.

“you know.. you can tell me anything..” rindou’s deep voice sliced through the peaceful silence of the night, the vibrations from his chest going straight to your ear as you lie your head atop it. there was this slight hesitancy in his tone that made you furrow your brows, “hm? what do you mean?” you angled your head to look up at his face—his amethyst eyes were cast with the warm glow of the bedside lamp but you could see the swirling storm behind it. rindou stared straight ahead, his hand had stopped rubbing your back. he bit his lip, feeling a lump in his throat as he mustered the courage to say something. to address the elephant in the room.

“i.. i know you’re seeing someone else.. i saw another man’s shoes at the doorstep when i came home.” upon seeing it earlier, rindou turned and left to clear his thoughts. he closed his eyes, his hand that hovered over your back balled into a fist. furrowing your brows, you put the pieces together in your head and before you knew it, a wide grin was plastered on your face. rindou’s eyes shot open as you burst out laughing, no sign of guilt on your face. he was confused. “wha—” “baby.. those shoes you saw earlier? they were my brother’s! he came by to meet you but you came home later than usual.” you buried your face in his chest, shaking with laughter.

rindou’s brows shot up, “but— how— you didn’t tell me..?” “i texted you, remember? though i don’t think you replied at all.” realisation sank in and rindou wanted the bed to swallow him whole. his phone had died and had no way of charging it, hence why he didn’t see your text earlier. he buried his face in his palms as he felt his face heat up in embarrassment. how could he be so silly? “fuck, how embarrassing.. i’m so sorry for assuming, baby. i—” “baby, it’s okay.” you tried to console him but ended up bursting with laughter at the situation, earning a deep sigh from rindou and his face shielded with his hands.

₊✮⸜ ༘⋆ HARUCHIYO SANZU

— immediately jumps to a conclusion. sanzu is a very clingy partner, he sees another man next to you? he sees red. doesn’t beat around the bush, and he gets straight to the point—this behaviour of his, he’s picked up from doing his job in bonten.

“who the hell is this?! are you cheating on me?” you almost dropped the plate you were holding at sanzu’s loud voice. there he stood at the entrance of the kitchen, sleeves of his button down shirt rolled up, hair tousled—a clear sign of a rough day from work. a vein was prominent at the side of his neck as he questioned you. sanzu narrowed his eyes at the man who stood next to you, not only was he in his kitchen, he also wore his apron. “sanzu! that-that’s not the way to greet my brother!” you took a few steps to stand in front of him as you saw rage brewing behind his azure eyes; it all quickly dissipated as his eyes darted between the two of you. oh. you two did have the same eyes.

sanzu bit his bottom lip, embarrassment quickly swallowing him. he remembered his outburst a few seconds ago and he wanted nothing but to crawl into a hole. “ah.. um.. my apologies. didn’t know you had an older brother.” he sheepishly smiled at you, scratching at his nape. “well now you do. he was so eager to meet you, you know.” you raised a brow at him before proceeding to set up for dinner—with the help of your older brother. sanzu awkwardly stood there, feeling out of place. he locked gazes with your brother before shuffling to his feet and warmly greeting the man; you playfully shook your head at sanzu as you heard him profusely apologising, his tone much calmer and quieter now.

throughout the night, sanzu kept close. he fully knew you were still a bit upset at how he acted towards your brother. he didn’t blame you, it was entirely his fault. he was clingy—a hand on your thigh, an arm slung around your waist, his shoulder touching yours. you’ve already forgiven him earlier but you wanted to see how far he’d keep up with this; it was cute to say the least. how he followed you like a puppy with it’s tail between it’s legs, clearly guilty of his actions.

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srvbryn · 3 months

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I can request that luke x reader end up on a mission where consecutively luke is jealous of the guy they are on the mission with but after all they face they make it through together.

Luke Castellan. Jealous

Luke Castellan X Hebe!Daughter!Reader

Summary: WHAT THE REQUEST SAID PERIOD!! 🤭🤭

Warning: insecure Luke + Sassy Luke (it's not that bad I promise), kiss scene is oddly specific

738 words 😋

A/n: HAIAI for the one that requests this - i'm not sure whether you want Dark!Luke or just Luke SO I hope you enjoy reading this! 🎀 I hope the scene adds the jealousy touch you were looking for 😭😭

As Ares sent Tom, his newly claimed son, on a quest, he surprisingly included both you and Luke.

Tensions ran high, especially when Tom, seemingly oblivious to the atmosphere, went out of his way to gain your attention.

Luke's subtle glares and tightened jawlines, and Tom, enjoying the tension he created, sported a cocky smirk.

During one skirmish, Tom took an unnecessary risk, earning a wound that you promptly tended to with nectar. Luke's eyes narrowed as he watched you care for Tom, his possessive instincts kicking in. "You're not the only one who knows how to patch up injuries," Luke muttered under his breath, his competitive spirit burning.

As the quest continued, Luke attempts to win back your attention became more apparent.

All while subtly keeping an eye on your reactions. Insecurities lingered beneath his confident exterior, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Tom's antics were slowly chipping away at your focus.

One evening, around the campfire, tensions reached their peak. Tom, in a moment of bravado, tried to impress you with a flashy display of swordplay.

Luke, unable to contain his frustration, interrupted, "Enough showing off. We're here for a quest, not a theatrical performance."

The exchange escalated into a heated argument, with Tom challenging Luke to prove himself worthy.

In the aftermath, Luke's insecurities remained, but he found a safe place within your arms - especially when you slept with your head on his shoulder.

The quest led you through treacherous terrain. Tom's eagerness to impress became more pronounced with each passing day, drawing amusement from you and aggravation from Luke.

On the second day, as you and Luke set up camp, Tom, nursing a minor injury, couldn't resist an opportunity for an ounce of your attention. "Hey, (Name), think you could patch me up? Your healing touch works wonders," he grinned, casting a challenging glance at Luke.

Luke, retorted, "Don't you have some divine healing powers, Montgomery? Or is that too much effort for the god of war's son?"

You sigh, handing Tom a spoonful of nectar. "Save the bickering for the monsters. We're here for a reason."

The next day, during a battle with harpies, Tom took an unnecessary risk in order to demonstrate his combat abilities. Luke being Luke of course he noticed the danger unfold. "Watch your back, Montgomery!" he exclaimed.

He couldn't help but mutter, "Trying to impress someone, Tom?"

Tom smirked, "Why, jealous, Castellan?"

You interrupt them with a sigh. "Enough of this. We need to focus on the quest, not on each other."

In the quiet moments, Luke's insecurities surfaced. That night, as the three of you sat around the campfire, Luke glared at Tom, "I'm not used to sharing the spotlight, especially when you're trying so hard to win my girlfriend's attention."

Tom, surprisingly, replied, "I get it, man. But she's not a prize to be won."

"Yeah well she's my girlfriend so please back off" Luke scoffed.

It was the final day, which is finally the time for the three of you to go back to the camp.

As the quest concluded with triumph, the adrenaline still coursed through your veins. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape. The trio stood victorious, catching their breaths.

As you began to share congratulatory words with Tom, Luke's hand subtly found its way to yours.

With a gentle tug, Luke pulled you away from the group, guiding you toward the edge of the forest.

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension from the quest. Once beneath the canopy of trees, Luke stopped, his eyes searching yours.

"Sweet," he began, his voice low and intense. "I couldn't stand watching Tom try to steal your attention during this quest. It drove me insane."

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss and the realization of how much he valued you.

The forest around you seemed to hold its breath as the kiss deepened, expressing the intensity of the emotions both of you had kept hidden.

When he finally pulled away, Luke's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of possessiveness and vulnerability. "I don't want to share you with anyone. You're mine, (Name)."

The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his emotions. As you reassured him by tilting your head forward and putting your soft lips on his. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside.

"I love kissing you, y'know that?" Luke murmur.

#luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #pjo #pjo tv show #kisses #pjo series #oc

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kaseyskat · 8 months

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okay since they said that the san diego show is gonna be the only one Not recorded, i'll do my best to summarize the show for y'all!!!

-glenn's dad fact: the glenn close trio instagram (? i think?) is full of pictures of glenn standing next to a picture of the real glenn close

-darryl's dad fact: he and carol go to san diego very frequently because darryl likes the breweries and carol likes surfing! they have not "had sex" there once, but they HAVE made love (statements that made me cringe out loud)

-henry's dad fact: he and mercedes make a fake san diego burrito for themselves and the twins. it sounds awful.

-ron's dad fact: he thinks san diego is a type of eggo waffle

-the prompt that we rolled was called DADDY BABIES. the plotline? the dads (and paeden) went to the dimensional witch tilt toblerona to ask her to give them the strength of their youth back so they could find their kids. instead, tilt turned them into babies.

-the dads still have all of their memories of who they are as people and they can talk to themselves and to paeden (tilt does not understand them though, tilt only hears baby noises) but physically Being a baby affects their mental state just a bit

-ron wanted to stay a baby forever. henry tried to explain the concept of ageplay to him, darryl got confused thinking that ron just wanted to HAVE a baby like with samantha, henry had to explain fetishes

-during the baby section, henry is the most "adult" and ends up having to corral the others. darryl is a close second, but glenn and ron both Suffer Immensely

-while tilt is making. applesauce? the babies scheme on how to escape, involving an elaborate scheme in which henry uses mold earth on playdoh to make fake versions of themselves blue in the face and choking in a plastic bag and ron throwing his voice to sound like a baby crying. beth made the worst fake crying noise ever but then also gave us an INSANE dolphin noise when anthony called her out on it

-(also the dads had to roll object permanence to see if they thought tilt was gone forever when she was out of their line of sight. glenn failed this check very badly. darryl even played peekaboo with him to demonstrate object permanence and it failed. anthony made a horrible horrible joke that glenn's not a bad parent he just has bad object permanence even when it comes to nick)

-somehow this works? they trap tilt toblerona (glenn using illusory mind prison to make tilt think SHES the one choking on a plastic bag, henry casting stone wall on her to build a lego wall around her and effectively cask of amontillado-ing her) and then wander around the house looking for a way out.

-they realize they need tilt's key to escape, but first they watch an episode of bluey! henry is the only one who saved on a roll to Not be sucked into watching bluey and ends up unplugging the TV and going on a tangent about how screentime is bad

-(which is really fucking funny because he very explicitly says "lark and sparrow are well behaved because we set boundaries and have them play outside instead of using screens" and we all know how lark and sparrow are like. not???? not well behaved. henry im so sorry to break this to you but they are not well behaved-)

-anyways they get back to tilt, find and steal her key, and then open the door, promptly getting sucked through dimensions

-(darryl thinks for a second that he's in the rapture and tries to baptize himself in case his baby form isn't baptized. henry tries to help but goes on another tangent and they miss the opportunity)

-when they awaken, they find themselves now as teenagers in a classroom! and they see a GOTH PUNK SEEKER OF DARKNESS (phrases that made the entire crowd erupt in screaming, myself included)

-this time, darryl is the most stable of the dads! glenn coming in second, and then ron and henry were both. very teenager.

-darryl immediately offers to play ball with link. link is interested but ultimately gets shot down by tilt, who explains that they are in interdimensional detention forever

-glenn and taylor immediately bond over how cool they are

-scary asks ron if she can copy his math homework because he seems smart with a tie. ron agrees to let her but is very nervous about it (we later find out this is because he is not very good at math)

-teenage henry is a fucking delight yall. he sits there staring out the window at the trees and writing poetry (with long hair! long hair teenage hen is real!!!) about the trees and enjoying nature

-scary has to roll not to fall in love with him the second she finds out that he writes poetry (she fails)

-normal tries to bond with his grandfather. henry brushes him off entirely. its heartbreaking and also hilariously funny

-normal goes fucking apeshit yall. he gets so fed up of henry ignoring him and the others not talking to him and being trapped in this small room that he takes a crossbow and threatens tilt with it. she calls his bluff and he SHOOTS HER?

-at least, he tries. she catches the bolt and then tells him that if he's serious he needs to actually stab the bolt into her heart himself. he does. he's unhinged.

-tilt tries to explain her entire sob story backstory. darryl interrupts to boo her and call her a loser.

-glenn and taylor throw a desk out of the window to break it open. going out the window Will Kill You.

-ron paints the window like a slip and slide to try and trick tilt into going into it. it doesn't work. however two guards come in and it DOES work on one of the guards

-the other guard eventually gets physically thrown out of the window by taylor, who proudly declares that this will not affect him at all

-henry goes to talk to scary. scary gets excited, but then henry just asks if she thinks that teen darryl would go out with henry because even though he's "not henry's type", something about him is captivating. scary is heartbroken.

-darryl overhears this and rejects henry on the basis of him still dating carol! but offers to set henry up with carol's friends.

-glenn and taylor use awful fireworks to blind tilt, the other guard (that taylor kills), and normal since he was in range.

-scary tries to be bitter and calls henry out for being blind, but henry wasn't hit with the spell and immediately says some fakedeep shit about seeing more than most people do. it is insanely funny i cannot stress how funny teenage henry is

-link is now convinced that public schools were a mistake and he needs to leave Right Now. he rolls a nat 20 on taking the key, but uses it for himself to fucking dip. he just ditches them. he bolts for it. normal even tries to give him a high five and link completely goes NOPE.

-when nobody else has another form of escape, henry takes out his sketchbook? that apparently he always has as a teen? and uses summon creature to draw a boar and bring it to life. the boar smashes through the door and now they are saved!

-it is here that it is revealed this was all a dream but specifically a dream set pre-canon. darryl makes a comment about link being a narc. glenn tells taylor to never change because he's perfect exactly the way he is. scary tells ron that he sucks at math (and ron is very confused about scary's existence he doesn't know who she is).

-HENRY. tells normal to be the best version of himself. AND TO HELP HIM WITH THAT. he draws. TEENY. TO GIVE TO NORMAL AND INSPIRE HIM TO BE HIS BEST SELF. and that is how normal came up with teeny the teen as the mascot of teen high

-it was such a fun show, i'm so glad i got to attend! shame that it isn't being recorded

#dndads #kasey rambles #the henry and normal thing had me losing my fucking shit btw #cal and i were literally going insane #im STILL going insane #i hope this is coherent

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octopotto · 7 months

Text

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral!

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you.

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma.

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills.

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you.

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself.

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero.

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new.

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

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wood-white-writer · 7 months

Text

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [4/...]

- OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

"I think my brain is rotting in places, I think my heart is ready to die, I think my body's falling in pieces, I think my blood is passing me by."

— Mitski, "Brand New City"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. Years have passed since you last saw Buggy following the dispute that you thought ended your friendship. When you finally reunite with the blue-haired menace you once considered your closest friend, it’s under less than “friendly” circumstances.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, LA!Verse, Buggy is a lonely asshole, "Cross-Hairs"/reader is a lonely asshole too, flashbacks, semi-canon divergence, Reader is strong AF, a mixture of both the Reader's and Buggy's POVs, angst

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than usual with only 2.2k words... Sorry.

Taglist:@kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

You’re like a savage beast when you’re fighting, Buggy admits to himself in awe as he watches you tear through your opponents one by one with substantially more strength than anyone thought your body capable of.

But Buggy's not just anybody. He's always known that your body is of a special sort, an Iron Maiden encompassed by skin, flesh, veins, arteries, and ligaments; capable of bringing ruin to anyone and anything if only you have reason enough. Chains can't hold you, nor can any power on this earth.

He relishes in it.

You have your sword and your pistol both disposable at the belt on your hip, but you seem to have no interest in wielding them for the battle. No, your body is a weapon on its own; a blade cutting through people like grass straws on a narrow field.

It’s during times like these — when he gets to watch your strength from the front rows — that he wonders whether you’ve eaten a Devil Fruit of your own at some point, but that can't be. He’s seen you swim.

You, him, and Shanks had been simply traveling through the town where the Oro Jackson was docked, minding your own business when a group of rival pirates suddenly ambushed you. Thinking they easily could kidnap the apprentices of the famous Gol D. Roger and demand ransom, the shidiots would quickly come to realize that they made a mistake.

A very costly one at that. One they will be sure not to repeat.

Whereas he and Shanks stand partnered together against a few of the rival group, you are holding your own quite well from the other side of the fight. He swears he saw one of the men flying over him at some point, though it might’ve just been a trick of the adrenaline.

Kicking one of the larger pirates straight in the balls with his lower body severed from the rest, he turns his upper body to catch a glimpse of you in case you need help.

What he sees instead is a flash of the sun reflecting in your eyes as you pounce at your prey, casting a yellow line in the air that reminds him of lightning about to strike the ground. Everything around him seems to cease mid-motion save for you. There is no fighting going on, no shouting, no Shanks telling him to take cover from an incoming blow.

All he sees is you, and all he hears is his own voice telling him: "Gods, you’re fucking marvelous."

The last thing he hears is Shanks shouting his name before the world begins to darken around him, and the last thing he sees is lightning making its way toward him, destroying everything in its path to get to him.

He wonders drowsily if it's going to strike him too.

———

The fight that ensues reminds you of the battles you partook in during your years as Captain. The chaos in it all. The carnage. The general inability to think properly as you fight. Of course, your opponents back then lacked Buggy's uncanny ability to split up into multiple parts while still alive, but it doesn't stop you.

Nothing on this earth can.

Blades are thrown, skin is cut, and by the time you get close enough to reach him, a number of props have scattered to pieces in the midst of your warfare. It seems like an endless battle trying to defeat him, just get him to fucking stay still.

Just as you reach for Buggy's chest with your nails reached out to claw at his vest, his midsection separates and all you're left with is air. Just empty air.

He cackles as he puts himself back a few good feet from where you're standing. "C'mon! Put your back into it! It's like you're not even tryin—!"

In a flash, your face is hairsbreadths away from his, and it feels like everything around him stops.

At that moment, he realizes that the golden color of the sun has not left your eyes. Only to find that, upon closer inspection, it's not the color of the sun that he's met with.

It's thunder, and it strikes hard.

Before he has the chance to blink, the next thing he knows is the feeling of a boulder being pushed against his stomach. Not a sound leaves his throat save for a guttural groan, and he finds himself on the ground before he knows it with stars adorning the edges of his vision.

Gods, he thinks while in a state of both pain and exhausted satisfaction, your face a blurred canvas in his eyes. You’re so fucking marvelous.

By the time Nami and Zoro debut to join the battle, you have already pinned Buggy to the ground with your legs planted firmly on each side of his hips, and a bruising grip around his neck as you press your forearm down onto it. Not enough to cut his flow of oxygen, but enough so that he doesn't have the capacity to move unless he splits.

His face, the very same face you used to paint when you were younger, looks up at you with nothing short of manic glee. He doesn't even divide himself up to get free this time. It's almost like merely connecting to him, even during an act of violence such as this, is enough to keep him entertained. Happy, you dare think.

You find those sea-blue eyes looking up at you, and before you try and strike the finishing blow, you hesitate. You fuckinghesitate, because when it all comes down to it, you can't find it in yourself to kill him.

The legendary Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, the executioner of a thousand marines and other pirates, can't kill something this time.

You can't kill him. You can't kill those ocean-blue eyes, even when your body yearns to see through with what you promised. You always stick to your promises, but for the first time in forever, you don't. You can't.

Not him.

Never him.

Meanwhile, Buggy can't help examining you like you're the most fascinating creature he's ever laid his eyes on, because you are. Even after all this time, he's still as drawn to the fire in your eyes that as he was all those years ago. It's a feeling he can never hope to extinguish.

Nor does he want to.

Being the jester that he is, however, he takes the moment to his advantage. This one, vulnerable moment. It's not out of pettiness, but survival. Nothing personal.

He separates his femur and exploits the momentum to knock you off him. He can tell you're surprised as you position yourself on your knees and hands, yet it only takes you a ghost of a moment to recover.

The fire is back in your eyes, a thousand times brighter this time, and the fight continues.

Now, neither of you holds back, and he becomes first-hand acquainted with just how ruthless truly you can be. When there is nothing keeping you down.

Truth be told, it excites him. Very much so.

He has the Bounty Hunter and the Tangerine-haired girl hot on his tail, but he hardly provides them a medium of his attention. You're the only thing he can't take his eyes off.

"NAMI! THE CRATES!"

And that's where the entire play gradually comes to an end. Maybe it's what pisses him off the most?

You stalk after his separated body parts like a hunter after a flock of deer, throwing them into the crates as the rest of your companions follow suit. Whereas Nami and Zoro are strategic with their actions, complementing each other, you're acting on pure, unadulterated wrath.

You do not have Luffy's stretchy capabilities, Zoro's precision, or Nami's diligence.

What you have is something far, far deadlier.

It's twenty years of pent-up heartache.

Catching pieces of him is much easier than catching all of him.

This is what it's come to, with you and him fighting; with you and him having different goals. It's not the future you envisioned for yourself at all. In fact, it's the exact opposite. If you knew then what you know now, you would've ...

Once, it was you and him together against the rest of the world. Now, it's you against him, against the rest of the world.

You can feel your eyes threaten to sting as you catch his femur and throw it in an open box that promptly shuts, but like with everything else, you push it down. You push it until all that remains is the vague ache.

It doesn't matter, you tell yourself. This is what it will stay like.

In the end, all of his body parts save for his head, hands, and feet are spared from the confinement of the containers, and when he melds them together to a pathetically small version of his usual self, you can't help but address the irony of the situation.

"What have you done to me?!" Buggy cries.

Luffy grins as he caresses his beloved hat, having suffered the most injuries. "Cut you down to size."

Buggy looks as small as you felt that day. Helpless. Pathetic. Reduced to almost nothing.

Still, it's not a moment that brings you any happiness. Not any victory, or satisfaction. You don't even have the urge to gloat.

All it brings you, as you tower over him from the side, is nothingness.

You're tempted to kick him, and you almost do. You take a step closer to him, a river of anger rushing through your veins. With nowhere else to go, it circles.

"The One Piece will never be yours!" Buggy yells and flaps his hands, too focused on Luffy to notice you calmly stalking toward him from the dark. "You're just a sad, lonely little boy, wearing another man's hat!"

It’s Shanks’s hat, you want to scream. Our friend’s hat. Don’t you remember?

Luffy's words don't register with you as you kneel in front of the shortened clown, nor do Nami's questions or Zoro's inquisitive eyes. It all tunes out into the background as you raise your hand slowly to Buggy, and you think about how easy it will be. It will be so easy to end it now. He's weak, he's practically defenseless. There's nothing to stop you now.

Buggy simply stares when he notices you, his mouth slightly parted in what you can only perceive as surprise and ... disbelief? You take one final look at his face, the same face you used to paint long ago, and you briefly wonder how many layers of white, red, and blue separate this one from the touches you applied years ago.

Is there still some residue left? Any fingerprint? Does anything from you still linger with him, or did he try to scrub your touches off his face the same way he tried to scrub you from his life altogether?

Buggy is completely still as your outstretched fingers close in on him, and he thinks that this is it. Now's the moment when you will make good on your threats, where you'll finally kill him. Truth be told, it's a less-than-satisfactory way to go, but surprisingly enough, it doesn't bother him half as much as he expected it would.

Maybe it's because, after all this time, it's still you until the end? You and him, like it was always meant to be.

He closes his eyes with a sigh and finds that the edge of his lip tilts a little up. "Go for it," he says, awaiting the moment when your calloused fingers grip him. He can anticipate your nails clawing at his scalp, tearing the skin of his cranium, digging until there is nothing left to tear at.

Devil Fruit or not, you're the only one he'll let end him like this.

Except, you don't.

All he feels are your fingertips gently grazing the sides of his cheek, so uncharacteristically soft against his thin stubbles that he could've mistaken it for air brushing his face.

The same hands he knows capable of such great feats of violence and brutality, the same ones who had just fought against him with enough strength to match a beast, are touching him like he's made of glass.

He snaps his eyes open, and when he meets your gaze, he's surprised to find them ... empty. Hollow.

The sun is gone, and so is the thunder. Now, there are only clouds in his view.

"Goodbye, Buggy." Your voice is so tranquil that he strains to hear it, and before he gets to, you stand up again and turn your back to him. "He's all yours, Luffy."

No, no! He tries to walk up to you, but his shortened sature won't let him. Don't look away, not yet! Look at me! If only to keep your fucking promise! Just fucking pleas—Please just look at me again!

"GUM-GUM—!"

"No, no, no!" Buggy, for the first time in his life, begs as the kid stretches his arms backward. Not like this. Not yet. He tries to search for you, only to discover that you've already left the circus tent. "Wait, wait, wait! Just wait!"

"— BAZOOKA!"

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #one piece x reader #buggy the clown fanfiction #one piece #one piece buggy

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idunnoficsorsumthing · 8 months

Text

Lost the bet

Pairings: Topper Thornton x reader; Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe and Topper make a bet.

Warnings: 18+ sex scenes are described so MINORS DO NOT interact. Cheating? unlikeable characters?

The summer had cast a relentless warmth upon the coastal town, and as your boyfriend, Topper, draped his arm casually over your shoulders, the heat seemed even more stifling. Across from you sat Rafe, his gaze a simmering mixture of intensity and tension. The trio was gathered around a weathered wooden table on the terrace, but the atmosphere was far from relaxed.

Topper and Rafe were locked in a heated discussion, a bet that revolved around surfing, and your gut instincts urged you to intervene. "Let's make it five hundred," Topper proposed, the words hanging in the humid air. Rafe's eyes remained fixated on you, a glance that stirred both heat and unease within you. You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of embarrassment as his gaze bore into your very core.

Then, without warning, Rafe's voice cut through the thick air. "Sex," he declared, his tone dripping with confidence. "If you win, you get five hundred, but if I win, I want sex." The unexpected proposition hung in the air, casting a palpable tension over the table. Kelce, a friend who had been listening in, couldn't help but burst into laughter. "A threesome, huh?" Topper quipped, a touch of unwillingness in his voice.

You felt compelled to voice your objections, but before you could interject, Topper and Rafe sealed the deal with a firm handshake. Desperation welled up within you. "Top, can I talk to you?" you implored, prompting a reluctant nod from him. The two of you retreated from the terrace, seeking a quieter corner to hash things out.

"What the hell, Topper?" you exclaimed, your frustration evident as you slapped his arm. "I can't believe you agreed to this."

"I'm not going to lose this," he retorted, an air of unwavering confidence in his tone.

"Calm down," he urged, though it was clear you were far from calm yourself. For the next ten minutes, you engaged in a passionate discussion about the value of women and relationships, your words aimed at conveying the sacredness of intimacy. Despite your heated exchange, you couldn't shake the sense of discomfort that had settled within you.

In the following days, you kept your distance from Topper. You refrained from wishing him good luck and gave him the cold shoulder, struggling to determine your course of action. Should you break up with him, unable to get over his lack of protectiveness of your intimacy with him? Or should you stay and to be alright with the result of the bet as the thought of Rafe's hunger-filled gaze haunting your thoughts?

That day, the inevitable call came. "I'm sorry, babe," Topper's voice was laced with worry, as if bracing for another round of your anger. "I tried to get him to accept money," he added, sounding somewhat defeated. "But he insists on the 'prize.'"

You took a deep breath and finally conceded, "Okay, fine." Silence hung on the line. "But it's all about you, babe," Topper assured, trying to alleviate your dread.

When the day arrived, Topper left the room momentarily, claiming he needed condoms from the bathroom. Left alone with Rafe, his darkened gaze and proximity intensified your unease. You had seen that look before, but this time, it held an entirely new meaning. "Are you okay with this?" he asked, leaning in close on the couch.

"Does it matter?" you responded with a shrug, downing your drink in a single gulp. He didn't back down, holding your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His words hung heavily in the air, causing your heart to race. "So, Y/n, do you want my cock?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. Your breath hitched as his words stirred a hunger deep within you, an unprecedented longing.

"I need words," Rafe demanded, and you could only nod in response. "Yes, Rafe," you whispered, the tension in the room palpable. As his lips met yours, desire ignited, and you found yourself craving his touch more than ever.

You hadn't even noticed that Topper had returned, though you were too consumed by the escalating intimacy. "You guys started without me?" he remarked casually, reclining on the bed beside you. His hands began to explore beneath your shirt, planting kisses on your exposed skin. You felt a pang of guilt for the conflicting desires coursing through your body.

As the duo helped you undress, Topper's urgency was evident. Rafe, on the other hand, seemed wholly captivated by your naked form, and you couldn't help but feel a heady mixture of exposure and exhilaration. "I want a taste," Rafe declared, his desire evident in his gaze, while Topper sat nearby, his arousal evident, awaiting his own pleasure.

You find yourself caught in a whirlwind of sensations, your lips bitten in a futile attempt to stifle the peak of your pleasure. Rafe's ability to make you feel like you are about to cum so quickly reduced you to whimpers. "Please, Rafe," your voice trembling. But he responds not with words, but with his tongue against you.

"Are you going to cum for Rafe, babe?" Topper asks as he forces your hand which had slowed down as your pleasure increases. "Oh my god, RAFE," you moan as your legs quiver, Rafe persisting in his movements until your release.

Rafe rises from the floor, his imposing presence looming over your exposed form. Your hand instinctively reaches for his belt, a desire to reciprocate the pleasure. Topper's presences fades in your mind as you assist Rafe in removing his clothes. Your gaze fixates on his arousal, your fingers inching towards it with intention to provide satisfaction. However, he stops you. "So eager to please me," he murmurs, glancing towards Topper for the first time that evening. "You see how much she wants my cock, like a whore," he adds, a smile appearing on his face expecting to get his turn soon. Topper stood up from the bed. “So how do you want to do this?” Topper asked. Rafe stopped acknowledging Topper again. Instead he came in for a kiss again, and you felt your own arousal rise up in you again. The thought of him inside you, pleasuring you, fucking hard causing your shut legs to squeeze together. Rafe pushes them open again, allowing him to rub his cock against your wetness sending shivers down your spine as it was still sensitive. "Are you a good girl? Ready for my cock?" he rasps, to which your response is a whimper as he gradually eases into you. Though the initial discomfort sends twinges of pain, the ensuing union soon overtakes you in waves of pleasure.

The symphony of your shared passion inadvertently incites Topper's protest. "Hey man, the deal wasn't for you to have sex with my girlfriend," Topper interjects. Rafe's halt in movement causes a discontented moan from you. "Oh, I didn't realize you were so desperate for me. Would you prefer my dick inside you?" Rafe retorts sharply, the aching need within you causing you to reluctantly concur, "Top, just sit down. You'll get your turn," you sigh. Defeated Topper sat down on the ottoman.

You remain silent towards Rafe after experiencing three climaxes that night, a couple of days ago. It was a contrast from the meager satisfaction Topper typically offers. As you arrive at the country club where Rafe and Topper are enjoying beers on the terrace, you divert from your regular seat beside Topper, opting instead to settle beside Rafe. "Hey, Y/n," Topper greets you, "can you come sit here?" but Rafe's hand claims your thigh, hinting that he wishes you to remain where you are.

As the night progresses and the drinks keep flowing, Rafe's attentiveness towards you becomes increasingly more obvious. He whispers sensually in your ear, provoking Topper's growing discontent. It was then that Topper couldn’t take it anymore, and asked to speak to you. The two of you retreat to a spot near the exit, reminded of your heated argument about the threesome just a week prior. Though your voices remain hushed, your table's view allows them to witness the exchange.

"You and Rafe look cozy," Topper sneers, to which you merely shrug. Deep down, you've already realized your hesitation to continue with Topper. However, you've postponed a breakup, fearing it may be driven by anger and filled with regret. "I don't get it, Y/n. You were so opposed against the threesome, yet you clearly loved being fucked by Rafe," Topper accuses, his tone filled with frustration. "That's not fair," you protest. "What's not fair is you being fucked by him and not wanting me," he retorts, prompting a scoff from you. "It's not my fault Rafe is some kind of orgasm god, okay?" you argue. His gaze narrows as it shifts between his friend and you. "He couldn't have been that good," he challenges, only to have you look him square in the eyes and declare, "Topper, I think we should break up." The message is clear in your stern gaze. "You're a goddamn whore!" Topper yells, a painful sting accompanying his words, and tears prickling your eyes.

"Do not talk to her like that!" Rafe's unmistakable voice cuts through the tension as he rushes to your defense. Topper warns him to stay out of it, but Rafe, driven by a surge of anger, delivers a punch that sends Topper staggering backward, groaning in pain.

"Jesus, Rafe!" you shrieked, your frustration reaching a boiling point. You couldn't contain your anger any longer, and it was directed at both of them. With a huff of exasperation, you turned your back on the two men and stormed off, your footsteps echoing your fury.

Let me know if anyone wants a part 2 or if it is better just like this.

#topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton smut #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction

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lixzey · 6 months

Text

Monster Among Men

wc: 3.4k

September 1, 1977

It was a well-known fact that Y/n Potter and Regulus Black despised each other. The two had been at each other's throats since the day they met on the Hogwarts Express. Y/n and Regulus were like fire and ice. They were polar opposites and hated each other with every fiber of their being.

Their rivalry began with petty insults and minor jinxes, but over time it grew into a deep-seated hatred for each other. They were competitive in everything they did, from Academic success to Quidditch, and their constant feuding had become notorious among the rest of the student body. No matter how much the two of them attempted to avoid one another, somehow their paths always ended up crossing with one another and it would usually end up with Y/N screaming and prefects pulling the two away from each other before anyone got hurt—meaning, the bystanders who often got hit by stray hexes and jinxes. That being said, everyone knew better than to be in the way when Y/n Potter and Regulus Black were both in the same room.

Platform nine and three quarters was bustling with students as it was every first of September. As a sixth year student, Y/n should've been used to it by now. But every time her eyes met with the scarlet steam engine train, she felt like a little first year, eager to learn magic on her own. Like every other student on the platform, her parents were fussing over her, making sure that she had everything that she needed for the whole term.

“Yes, Mum. I have everything in my trunk, and yes I'll keep out of trouble. Honestly Mum, you should reserve this speech for Jamie. He's head boy, he can get away with everything now.” Y/n chuckled as her mother ruffled her hair.

“Well, can I at least expect you to keep your brothers in line?” Euphemia asked her daughter, casting a look at James and Sirius—who is now an honorary Potter since Christmas of 1976.

“You know Jamie and Sirius, Mum. They're bloody menaces.”

“Language, young lady.” Fleamont chuckled, “But, you're right. Just….make sure they won't do anything reckless?”

“I'll try, Dad. But I'm not liable for anything.” Y/n giggled as she hugged her mother.

“James! Sirius!” Euphemia called for her sons, “Take care of your sister, alright? It's your final year with her.”

“Of course, Mum! I'll keep an eye out for tiny Potter.” Sirius chuckled as he put his arm around Y/n, earning a glare from the petite witch.

“Yeah, we'll make sure no one messes with my baby sister. Any boy who'll ask her out will go through us.” James grinned at his little sister, who rolled her eyes at him.

“Honestly, Jamie.” Y/n shook her head.

“No boyfriends until you're thirty, baby sis.” James smirked.

“James, let your sister have some fun.” Euphemia chuckled as tried to flatten James' hair, which didn't make any difference.

“I agree with James. No boyfriends for you until you're thirty years old, my little angel.” Fleamont hugged his daughter tightly.

“Let the girl live, Monty. She won't be a little girl forever.” Euphemia glared at her husband, “You too, James, Sirius.”

“Fine.” All three men huffed, earning a giggle from both women.

“Go on, my darlings. Get on the train,” Euphema chuckled, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist, “be sure to write!”

The Potter siblings along with Sirius stepped onto the train, waving at their parents as the train departed. The trio then walked to their compartment, which the Marauders claimed at the end of their second year.

“Hey Moony.” Y/n smiled as she entered the compartment, “Where's Pete?“

“Not sure,” Remus shrugged, “Haven't seen him yet.”

“I bet he's with that Hufflepuff bird.” Sirius said as he sat across Remus, “Wormtail's been pining after the girl for a year.”

“Well, if he is with her, good for him. He got the girl, unlike Jamie here.” Y/n chuckled, sitting beside Remus.

James rolled his eyes at his sister as he sat beside Sirius, “Mark my words, Evans will be mine by the end of the year.”

“Yeah, yeah, Prongsie. You've been telling us that for the last six years.”

“Good luck, Jamie. You're gonna need it more than ever.” Y/n giggled, patting her brother on his cheek.

“Evans will love me, I just know it.” James sighed contentedly.

“Yuck,” Sirius playfully cringed, “You look like a lovesick puppy again.” Y/n burst out laughing, almost falling out of her seat.

“I hate you guys.” James huffed playfully.

“You love us.” Sirius grinned cheekily.

“You boys go ahead and talk…..boy stuff. I'm going to find Lily before the Head's meeting.” Y/n said as she got up, fixing the muggle clothes, flattening out any wrinkles, making sure she looked a bit presentable. “I'll be back in a bit.” she smiled at the boys before stepping out of the compartment.

“Pitch in a good word about me to Evans!” James yelled from behind her. Y/n kept on walking, a smile on her lips. Her brother was hopelessly in love with the feisty redhead, Lily Evans.

Y/n walked down the long corridor of the train, scanning each compartment for her red-headed best friend. Suddenly, the smell of sea salt, eucalyptus, sandalwood, and firewhiskey invaded her nostrils, and before she was even aware of its presence, Y/n collided with something hard.

“You should watch where you're going, Potter.” His voice was as deep as the atlantic and emerald eyes locked into her hazel ones, as if he was staring into her soul. It was Regulus Black, the person she hated the most. Despite hating the Slytherin, Y/n couldn't help but notice changes in him. He didn't look like that boy who pushed her aside years ago. Y/n would be daft if she didn't admit that Regulus Black was drop dead gorgeous. His hair was much shorter than what she last saw, his curls framed his face better unlike the slicked back style he wore for the past five years. He looked like Sirius, though Regulus' aristocratic features were more defined—his jawline sharper than his older brother. The only thing left from the boy was his perpetual scowl.

Y/n scoffed, snapping out of her thoughts, “You bumped into me, Black.”

“Still not paying attention where you're going huh, Potter? Strutting around like you're some kind of goddess.” He sneered, looking her up and down.

“I do not strut, Black.” Y/n snapped.

“Oh, but you do, my dearest Potter.” Regulus spat as he glared at the smaller witch in front of him.

“You, you, pompous, arrogant git!”

“Ah, we're back to the petty insults?” He smirked, “Of course, it's practically tradition at this point.”

“You insufferable prat,” Y/n spat, “get out of my bloody way.’’

“Gladly.” He pushed past the little witch, shoving her slightly to the side.

Y/n let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. She then stormed back to the compartment, Lily would have to wait. As soon as she opened the doors, she immediately sat beside her brother, in an effort to calm herself down.

“What's got your knickers in a twist, tiny Potter?” Sirius asked tentatively.

Y/n shot him a dirty look before sighing, “Your fucking brother.”

“Just ignore him, Y/n.” Remus sighed, closing his book. “He's not worth it.”

“What did he do this time?” Sirius snickered while James snorted. Y/n didn't understand they found her misery funny. Every time that Y/N complained about the younger Black, they'd find a way to make it hilarious.

“He bumped into me, again. Told me I was strutting!” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Reggie is a prat, tiny Potter. He's mummy's little boy, a spoiled git at best.” Sirius laughed.

“I don't care. If he crosses me again, I'm going to break his pretty little face.”

Remus raised a brow, “Oh, so you think he's pretty?”

Y/n's eyes widened, “W-what? No! I don't think—”

Sirius smirked, “Pretty face, huh?”

“He looks like you, Padfoot! Of course, he has a pretty face.” Y/n insisted, her cheeks flushing.

“Oi, quit teasing my sister.” James huffed, “She doesn't fancy your brother, Pads. Y/n/n despises him, more than we hate Snivellus.”

“Well, the blush on her cheeks says otherwise, Prongsie.” Sirius chuckled.

“I do not and will never fancy Regulus Black!” Y/n snapped, shooting a threatening glare at Sirius.

Regulus Black was the leader of the prats, according to Y/n Potter. It was nothing new, for everyone else, seeing them bicker almost every day. There was no way in hell that Y/n would like him, she would rather drown in the black lake. He was an insufferable git for all the years that Y/n knew him and she'd rather punch him in the face.

“Enough of that,” James stood up, offering his hand out to Y/n. “We need to get to the prefect's carriage.” Y/n's scowl turned into a bright smile. “Oh, right! I'll just go and change into my robes. Now, all of you, get out.” James and Remus chuckled, while Sirius pouted, “Oh come on, tiny Potter, grace my eyes-” James hit him on the head, “Pervert.”

The trio stepped out of the compartment, giving the younger witch privacy. After a few minutes, Y/n stepped out wearing her Gryffindor robes with a shiny prefect badge pinned onto the left side robes.

“Authority looks good on you, Y/n,” Sirius grinned, “You can boss me around and I'd-”

“My sister, Padfoot!” James growled.

“Oh please, Prongsie, can't blame me for appreciating tiny Potter's beauty.” Sirius smirked, earning him a smack on the head from a protective James Potter.

Y/n rolled her eyes at the sight of a pouting Sirius Black, before she took hold of Remus' hand. “Take me away from the idiots, please.” she chuckled, tugging on his arm.

Remus chuckled, “Gladly.”

The walk to the Prefects carriage was in perfect silence—aside from the huffing from Sirius, which Y/n chose to ignore. Remus had been a Prefect since his fifth year, along with Lily Evans. Y/n had been made a prefect as replacement for Lily, who is currently taking up the post of Head Girl. Y/n was ecstatic when she received her badge, she had been dreaming of becoming a Prefect since she was a first year—much like her friend, Lily. As soon as they approached the carriage, Y/n stepped aside, allowing Remus to open the door for her.

“Such a gentleman.” Y/n chuckled as she walked in first, James following her and finally Remus. Sirius stayed back, flirting with fifth year Ravenclaws.

Y/n looked around, scanning the faces of each appointed Prefect. There was Alice Fortescue and Frank Longbottom, the other two prefects from Gryffindor. Florence Bell, Amaryllis Abbott, Francis Fawley and Christopher Gideon from Hufflepuff. Emmeline Vance, Julia Boot, Gilderoy Lockhart, and Dirk Creswell from Ravenclaw. And finally her eyes landed on a certain Slytherin. Regulus Black was standing besides Severus Snape, Pandora Rosier, and Dorcas Meadowes. Regulus Black had his lips curled into a sneer as his eyes settled on her. Y/n scowled at him and walked to the furthest seat away from the younger Black, Remus trailing behind her.

“Why the hell is Potter here?” Severus Snape sneered at James. Y/n smiled cheekily, knowing that it would rile him up. “Which one?”

“You know what I mean, Potter.” Snape sneered.

“Oh, you didn't know?” Y/n smirked, feigning innocence. “Jamie's Head Boy.” Snape scowled, but kept his mouth shut when Lily Evans glared at him. The redhead sighed, before muttering, “This is going to be a long year.”

“Patrols will be done as pairs. Professor McGonagall is aiming for unity between houses, meaning each pair shall be from different houses. Here is a list of the pairs,” Lily smiled, passing one parchment to a Hufflepuff prefect on the right and the other to a Ravenclaw prefect on the left, “please note that these pairings were chosen by Professor McGonagall. I had nothing to do with this, same with the Head Boy.”

“I hope I'm partnered with you, Moony.” Y/n smiled, playfully nudging the older boy beside her. “You and me both, Y/n.” Remus chuckled, ruffling her hair.

“Here you go.’’ The fifth year Ravenclaw smiled brightly, passing the parchment to Y/n. Muttering a quick 'thank you', she grabbed the piece of parchment, scanning it for her name.

Remus Lupin and Florence Bell

Amaryllis Abbott and Gilderoy Lockhart

Dirk Cresswell and Pandora Rosier

Severus Snape and Julia Boot

Francis Fawley and Alice Fortescue

Frank Longbottom and Emmeline Vance

Christopher Gideon and Dorcas Meadowes

Regulus Black and Y/n Potter

Y/n's eyes widened, “Oh, no, no, no.” Her hands gripped the parchment in horror. Her partner was none other than Regulus Black.

“Who'd you get partnered with, baby sis?” James asked as he approached his sister with a warm smile, wrapping his arm over her shoulder. He peeked over the parchment, eyes widening at the name beside his sister's name. A teasing grin spread across his lips, “Good luck, you're gonna need it, more than ever.” James chuckled, using his sister's words against her.

Y/n wanted to hit her brother, but she stood frozen, her eyes glued to the parchment in her hands. She let out a shaky exhale, before her eyes darted across the room, locking with emerald green that belonged to Regulus Black.

“Please, please, try to remember that you all are Prefects. And as Prefects, you are not only representing your own respective Houses but the whole school in general as well. Please do not abuse the authority bestowed upon you, being biased shouldn't be taken into your duties as Prefects.” Lily informed with a pleading look in her eyes as her gaze turned to the Slytherin prefects. She took a deep breath before turning back to face everyone else. “I know the previous Head Girl and Boy were a little…..nonchalant in terms of being authoritative figures, which frankly in my opinion, is utterly careless, having multiple bullying cases from last year. I fully plan on making sure each and every one of you are treated fairly, none of those biased opinions.” Lily turned to James, who was making his way towards her after clapping his sister on the back. He ran a hand through his hair, making it messier as it regularly was. He stood right beside the redhead, flashing her a grin, which Lily rolled her eyes at. “As Head Boy, Potter, do you have anything else you'd like to add?”

“Please, just try to be civil with one another, despite who your partners are, alright? They will be your partners for the whole year, better not start on the wrong foot, yeah?”

Lily clapped her hands, “Now that we have the patrol partners settled, please go to your respective partners. As part of the Inter-house unity, you must get to know one another.”

Y/n did not want to spend her nights for the whole year with Regulus Black. She would rather jump off the astronomy tower, than be his partner for the whole year. As everyone walked up to their respective partners, Regulus Black and Y/n Potter stood still in their places. Y/n had her arms crossed over her chest as she blatantly refused to walk up to Regulus, much to Lily's annoyance.

“If you two don't get your stubborn arses together right now, I will body bind the both of you together.” Lily threatened with a sickening sweet voice that made Y/n wince.

Y/n huffed, before walking towards Regulus. She stood beside him, still making sure there was enough distance between them. The two stood in silence, not bothering to look at one another.

“Oh, for the love of God.” Lily muttered as she saw Y/n and Regulus standing back to back. “Talk!” she yelled, making Y/n jump. She rolled her eyes, before turning to face Regulus, who was smirking at her.

“What the fuck are you smirking at?”

“So hostile, Potter.” Regulus rolled his eyes, “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Arrogant git.”

“Annoying bitch.”

Y/n gasped, “You did not just call me a bitch!”

“You started it, Potter. Don't act so offended.” Regulus smirked. Y/n scowled at him, wanting to punch the smug look on his face.

“I hate you.” Y/n spat.

“Glad the feeling's mutual, Potter.”

After a few more reminders from Lily, the meeting finally ended—much to the pleasure of Y/n Potter. One by one, the Prefects stepped out of the room. Leaving Lily, James, Y/n, Remus, a sneering Severus Snape, and Regulus Black, of all people.

"It's preposterous that after everything you've done over the last six years, Potter, the old codger made you, of all students, Head Boy.”

Y/n's head immediately snapped at his direction, “You honestly thought it would be you, Snivellus?” Y/n laughed humorlessly, “Don't make us all laugh, you greasy git.”

Snape clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at the female Potter, stepping towards her. “No one asked you for your opinion, Potter.” Snape spat, “You're just as insufferable as your brother.”

“For your information, Snivellus, my brother deserved getting appointed as Head Boy. Have you seen him lead the Gryffindor quidditch team into victory? Oh wait,” Y/n feigned ignorance, “everyone else in Slytherin were too busy complaining about losing every single year to even see Gryffindor's talent.” Y/n spat, glaring daggers at Snape who in turn snarled at her, stepping forward into Y/n's personal space. As expected, Remus instinctively stepped beside Y/n, ready to protect the youngest Potter from Snape. Lily tried to step in, but Y/n's threatening low vice stopped her tracks, making her sigh and shake her head—though still on her guard, gripping her wand in case.

“If you don't get out of my personal space, Snape, I will make sure you'll regret being born.”

James, who strangely didn't come to his sister's rescue and kept calm despite what was happening, cleared his throat loudly. “If you don't mind, Snape,” James stood beside Lily, “Evans and I have work to do.”

Snape scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Drop the act, Potter.”

“I'm just doing my job and trying to get through it without causing a problem.” James insisted calmly—which was hard enough to say the least.

“He doesn't deserve that badge, and you know it!” Snape spat angrily.

Snape turned to his former best friend, “Lily, you can't possibly think he's changed!”

The redhead rolled her eyes, before standing up straight and walking up to James. “Please excuse us, Snape. We have jobs to finish before we arrive at Hogwarts.” Lily said flatly.

“One more word about my brother I swear to Merlin-”

“Or what?” Snape taunted, glaring at the little witch in front of him.

“I'm going to shove your wand far up your arse until it comes out your abnormally large ugly nose!”

“Back down, Snape.” Regulus Black's icy tone echoed in their ears, their heads snapping towards him. Snape scowled, “You can't possibly be defending Potter.”

“I am not defending anyone, I'm doing my duty as Prefect. Evans,” he jerked his head towards the redhead witch, “has made it clear that biased opinions are not to be brought in situations like….this.”

Snape scoffed, “Potter's being a bitch! You can't-”

“I said back down, Snape!” Regulus hissed, “If you cannot be civil, take your objections to McGonagall or Dumbledore! You are acting like a child.” He growled at the older Slytherin, his green eyes flashing with annoyance.

Lily, James, and Remus fell silent. Did Regulus Black really defend Y/n? Meanwhile, Y/nbscowled at the two Slytherins—not paying attention to the door that suddenly opened. Sirius poked his head in, a grin plastered on his face.

“Wow, the air here is thick.” Sirius eyed his friends, before his gaze fell on his brother—he scowled, before quickly looking away before anyone could notice.

“Anybody got a knife?” Sirius said cheekily, which made his friends plus Lily groan. “One can easily cut the tension with it.”

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @thebetawolfgirl @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif

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last-flight-of-fancy · 9 months

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hi hello i hope you don't mind but Special Interest Infodump Mode has been activated please keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times-

this explanation comes to us courtesy of Dark Road! You know, that cutesy little mobile game where literally the whole cast except the two protagonists dies. This is on brand bc the explanation has it's own fridge horror levels to it if i think too hard about it tbh.

So, worlds have hearts. We've known this since KH1, seen what happens to a world that loses its heart, and how they can be affected. It's rarely been expounded on beyond that however, aside vague allusions to the titular Kingdom Hearts being/harboring the Heart of All Worlds.

(which has. other implications now that i think about it but that's stepping into theorising territory. im sorry im trying really hard to stay on track honest)

fast forward to Dark Road, where we have a bunch of kids venturing out into the worlds for the first time, and as such have to have things explained to them (and thus the audience). NOW i will note here that KH looooooves unreliable narrators and characters imparting incorrect information without knowing it, so there is always the possibility that this could later turn out to be wrong, but currently I see no reason this would be the case and thus for now i feel safe in taking their words at face value unless otherwise contradicted.

Why are there no people? Because each world is alive, and after the Keyblade War sundering THE World into MANY Worlds, each needed to recover and restore what was lost; life, time, movement.

This bit here is important, bc as a result

All of this is the direct result of the Keyblade War of old. Even after so much time, the bits of worlds are *still* recovering, and I do think there's something to be said about how like... the repition between worlds and their apparent stagnation often *stops* after Sora visits them. I don't think it's because Sora's special(tm), but rather just because of who he is; the Dark Road kids are told never to interfere, and as a result the worlds they visit that Sora also visits later are exactly the same to Sora as they were 80+ years before.

But when Sora visits the same world only a short time after his first visit, things CHANGE. Hercules' story moves forward, Simba is having a crisis about being king, Jack Skellington has learned his lesson about Christmas and is on to new shenanigans. And that's only in kh2! in kh3 we see Twilight Town fill with people, barren Olympus expands into a full town (and there's more there too with BBS and how the Wayfinder Trio may have been Olympus' start towards restoring itself completely, and Sora's later arrival more speeding things along)

my point here is *connections*, which is a consistant and overarching theme of the series. Empty worlds are baby worlds, still healing and restoring from being broken away from the rest, and what helps along that healing? Being connected to others.

Which is to say that the keyblade weilder's doctrine of 'do not interfere' while most certainly well-intentioned (as Dark Road also points out, one persons darkness is anothers light, and morality is not a solid truth across worlds, so interfering is risky at best and dangerous at worst), the flip side to this is that without being connected, without that ''interferance'', the world's restoration stagnates and struggles. It will still get there eventually (the Tangled world seems to be doing alright for example), but chances are it might've been a little easier/faster if someone had done a little interfering.

tldr keyblade war broke the worlds and reset them all to zero. As the worlds heal time stops until it's People finally pop back into existance and their stories can resume. And that's how the invisible crowds in early kh games are canon.

#I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE INFODUMP MODE IS NOT ALWAYS GOOD AT BEING CLEAR #and also i kept slipping into speculation mode #im sorry i cant help it kh does this to me #its just so juicy #stop talking to yourself flight #kingdom hearts #meta

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phebbsl · 3 months

Text

A Part of Your World- Chapter 1

Stardew Sebastian x GN!Reader

Summary:

Sebastian’s resolve to not meet the new farmer lasts all but two weeks. To be fair, it’s not of his own volition.

You never thought you had to resolve to not get literally sucked into your favorite game, but now here you are. And now you have a farm to manage and a pretty boy to woo.

Or: My spin on the life in Pelican Town, and Heart Events, featuring a GN!Reader (possibly/probably Isekai???).

Cross posted from my AO3, phebbsl

♡

Sebastian’s resolve to not meet the new farmer lasts all but two weeks. To be fair, it’s not of his own volition.

He had stumbled out of his bedroom in the afternoon, late afternoon mind you, and promptly walked in on you and his mom discussing options for a new coop.

It was the day after the Egg Festival. Abigail had lost the Egg hunt for the first time in years, and was inconsolable for the whole night yesterday. Not in the ‘holy shit I lost and I’m absolutely devastated’ way with tears, but in ‘holy shit, did you see the Farmer??? they’re so hot’ type of way.

The trio of friends had stayed up late at Sebastian’s room for the rest of the night, drinking and using his ‘vase’. Abigail continued to gush about the Farmer, only slightly put out that her win streak ended.

“I mean, did you see them in that little straw hat? How cute!” she cooed.

Sam joined in too, all red-faced, blushing. The Farmer had stopped by his house when they first moved in, introducing themselves sweetly, and had even tossed over a can of Joja Cola to the blonde. Sam had suspected that it had been fished up from the river, judging by scuffs and slightly musty river-y smell, but had downed it anyway (and kept the can).

Why Sam drinks treasures those little blue cans of diabetes and Yoba-knows-what when he literally works at Joja and knows damn well how unhealthy it is, Sebastian will never know.

Sebastian spent the rest of the night, totally not sulking on his bed, casting mournful glances at the game table, all set up for a round of Solarian, as he listened to his friends’ gossip about the newest member of the town.

Abigail and Sam didn’t leave until well past midnight, and while Sebastian was used to long nights hunched over his computer, the day’s festivities had worn him out completely.

Thus, leading to him crawling out of his mom’s basement like a cave-goblin, obvious to all that he had woken up past the accepted hours for any normal person, even later than he typically would’ve. Upon seeing you, he was completely determined to turn around, go back to bed, and hide enjoy his solitude until you were gone. That was, before his mother had stepped in, ever so glad to take any opportunities to socialize him.

“Have you met my son, Sebastian?” Robin prods, with a sly grin, before slinking away to leave the two of you to socialize.

Great, now he had to interact with you.

He mumbles out a greeting and his name and takes you in.

You don’t look like a farmer. At least, not the stereotypical version of he had come up in his head. To be fair, he only really envisioned a grizzled old man, smudged with dirt and hands full of calluses. Basically, your grandfather. He had only caught a brief glance at the festival yesterday, and was uninterested in looking further. Now, he realized that his friends were right.

‘Oh no, they’re hot!’ echoes in his brain, soundly strangely like Squidward.

You’re exactly his type, with pretty eyes he could just drown in to boot, your straw hat prize from yesterday perched on your head. You’d even wound a crown of flowers around the base. He’s not a big fan of flowers, but daffodils suddenly look a million times better. Yellow looks good on you, he thinks.

He urges his brain to reboot and act like a normal person. Suddenly, he wants to make a good impression on you, curse his traitorous hormones.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool. Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

Nice. Cool, slightly aloof, and hopefully he didn’t sound too much like a dick.

You shrug and spin off the truly humongous backpack you have strapped on.

‘Damn, Pierre found someone to sell that thing to, huh?’ he thinks absently.

He and Abigail had spent an embarrassingly long time giggling at the giant monstrosity when it had arrived at Pierre's, while the store owner wilted behind the register, his plans to sell backpacks to one-up Joja foiled.

Sebastian watches with confusion as you proceed to stick your arm in the pack, rummaging, before producing a frozen tear, then dropping it into his hands. He stares at it, flabbergasted.

“I really love this. How did you know?” He finally manages to say.

“Just had a feeling,” you shrug again.

Robin comes back, interrupting the moment.

“I found the paint swatches for the coop! Let me know which one you’d like.”

You break away to discuss color options, and Sebastain stays, silently rolling the frozen tear in between his fingers. More words of gratitude are stuck in his throat.

Eventually, you and Robin finish, the latter rolling up the blueprints with promises to start working the next day.

“It was nice to meet you,” you give a little wave with a wiggle of your fingers.

“Uh yeah, same here.”

‘Wow, real eloquent,’ Sebastian snarks internally.

He finally leaves for the kitchen to grab food to start his day.

“Are you going to Sam’s? You should change before you go,” Robin enters as well, snickering.

Sebastian looks down.

Fuck, he had just met the most attractive person he’d ever seen and he was in his damn froggie printed pajama pants.

‘I knew I should’ve just stayed in my room,’ he thinks. But, glancing at the frozen tear next to his cup of coffee, he knows he might just wake up early again the next time you visit.

♡

I’m playing with the idea of having the farmer be from our world, like an isekai, I think it opens up more possibilities and has potential to become a bigger story than just a series of one shots, but I’m still not sure yet.

Let me know what you guys think!

#sdv farmer #farmer x sebastian #gn reader #gn!reader #stardew valley #sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #pheebsfics

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orqheuss · 11 months

Text

Insatiable Gravity (Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

You tried to shove your way through their body blockade, annoyance seeping into your words. “What is this nonsense all about? No one’s sleeping on the floor, don’t be daft.” Seeing that their embarrassed stumblings were getting them nowhere, the Slytherin’s hung their heads and stepped aside so you could get through. Seeing the full extent of the room now, you were able to understand their trepidation. “Oh…” There was only one bed. *** When it rains, it pours, and when you and your two Slytherin boys get trapped in a downpour far away from the castle, your only hope at salvation is the little inn down the road. The problem, though? They only have one room available for the night, and the room only has one bed.

Word Count: 8k

Is this a shamelessly self indulgent piece where i let my mind go absolutely feral and write every conceived notion i had about the boys' physical appearance into existence? yes. yes it is. Enjoy.

Rain poured from the sky in thick sheets of water, coating every inch of the small muggle town the trio of students ventured to earlier in the day. The three of you found yourselves stuck under a shop awning, huddled away from the freezing cold droplets, scowls decorating each of your faces like the world had slighted you. The night cast an eerily blue opaqueness on the buildings, the only bits of color spawning from the illuminated windows of the cottages lining the streets. It had been Sebastian’s idea to travel to the muggle village in search for some possible remedies for his sister's curse; he had read something about herbal medicine in one of the many tombs littering the Hogwarts library. In your long search for a cure the sun had quickly set across the horizon, casting a slight glimmer of stars across the sky and bringing forth an onslaught of ink black cumulonimbus clouds and a diamond toned shower. The students knew that they would be stuck there until they were able to apparate away in the morning— it was forbidden to use magic where it could be possibly spotted by one of the muggles milling about.

You cast your eyes to the boys next to you, taking in their forms against the pounding rain. Sebastian’s hair was slicked back for once, the tresses sopping wet like a sponge and curling slightly at the ends. He had pushed it back once you got out of the downpour, leaving his eyes to be on full display, shining even brighter under the low lamplight. His clothing fared just as well— cloak hanging off his shoulders like a heavily weighted blanket and his white button down near translucent under his green corduroy suit jacket. You felt color creep up your neck and onto your cheeks at the sight of his broad chest peaking through the slits of cloth. It was no secret that the brunette was attractive, many of the girls in your year had made that fact explicitly clear. There was an air about him that drew people in, a moth to a flame in his own way. He was the charismatic, mischievous type that somehow would become your fathers best friend. You can’t help the soft look that takes over your features; a small smile tweaks at the corners of your lips as you admired him in all his glory. His hand was resting on his head, his palm pressed against his hair and pushing back the curls so he could see through the inclement weather. As if feeling your gaze, he turns in your direction and the pools of amber that melt in his irises meet yours for a moment. Caught in the act, you quickly looked away and stared hotly at the stone floor below, your cheeks flowing a startling scarlet out of embarrassment. He snorted at your obvious admiration, turning away to look outwards into the storm once again with a toothy grin pulling at his mouth, his cheeks coloring his own shade of a light rosy hue.

Risking a glance yet again, you look up through your eyelashes at the second boy, drinking in the form of a disheveled Ominis Gaunt. The normally prim and proper Slytherin looked quite similar to a drowned rat as of late, but much to your chagrin it somehow still suited him. His normally quiffed hair fell across his forehead, significantly longer than you had imagined, and cascaded into his eyes like a blond waterfall. The orange lights that lined the streets glowed in his eyes like brilliant little fires, blazing against his cornflower shaded irises and catching the streaks of lavender lightning that zigzagged in them. Even in the cloudburst that threw itself against the pavement, he still had an air of regality about him— the type of boy your parents hoped you’d marry one day. He oozed old money, from the intricate chained decals that clipped his cloak together to his silver snake cufflinks. The boy may not believe it— he was terribly modest— but he caught the female gaze just as much as the brunette he kept as close company. Your gaze locked on his taut shoulders, trailing from their curvature towards where his collarbones jutted out under his skin and created a lovely shelf atop his chest. The starry birthmarks that lined his body shone through his perfectly pressed shirt, also merely nothing more than a thin sheet thanks to the precipitation, and created a smooth trail down his fair skin from neck to wrist. You were stuck for a particularly long time on his biceps, the muscles that you very rarely saw straining against the satin fabric in a show of wry strength. He had shucked off his robe not long after the rain began, complaining of its weight, leaving him in just his button down and paisley embroidered forest green vest. You gulped deep in your throat, mouth suddenly very dry as you stared for longer than was deemed socially acceptable. The blond did not meet your gaze, unlike his counterpart, but you knew he could feel the heat of your ogling. Looking down once again, you could see a small smile turn the corners of his mouth and tips of his ears blush a soft rosacea out of the corner of your eye.

You cleared your throat, casting your gaze back to the stout building across from you. The little inn’s windows were frosted over from the cold, the thick water droplets that raced down its panes leaving thin trails of clarity and light. Braziers lined the walls inside, glittering in the autumn night and flinging a radiant apricot-toned light along the puddles lining the streets. You shivered under your layers of drenched clothing, heavy vibrations wracking through your body and drawing the attention of the two boys flanking you once again.

You hesitantly spoke, teeth chattering and voice barely carrying itself into their ears because of the pounding rain. “We should turn in for the night— get out of the rain before we freeze solid. The inn looks like it still has some vacancies.”

Sebastian made an unsure noise in the back of his throat, mouth stretching into a thin line. “I would prefer we just go back to the castle. It can’t be that far away, we made it by foot earlier.”

Ominis spoke up from your other side, eyebrows knitted together in annoyance and tone scathing. “Are you the blind one, now? It’s pouring, you dolt. We wouldn’t be able to make it back if we tried, even in the daylight. Not to mention none of us know how to apparate yet, so we’d likely be stuck on bedrest for the next week sick as dogs.” He sighed heavily, milky blue eyes closing as he let his head fall backwards towards the roof. “I think the inn would be our best bet. Let’s just hope they’ll rent to us.”

The brunette huffed to himself, arms crossing over his chest as he was out voted. The three of you steeled yourself to go back into the downpour, pulling your cloaks tightly around your bodies and hoods over your heads to try and avoid getting more wet. On the count of three, you all sprinted across the large courtyard separating your shelter from the inn. Ominis grabbed tightly onto your sleeve, letting you pull him along since he couldn’t use his location charm. The rain felt like tiny sharp stings against your cheeks; your cloak was unsuccessful keeping out the wet and the chill.

Sebastian made it to the entrance first, throwing open the door with a loud bang and ushering the both of you indoors. The sudden temperature change once you crossed the threshold sent a shiver down your spine. A large ornate fireplace was tucked against the wall, swirling radiating heat throughout the whole bottom floor of the building and kissing your damp cheeks with a pleasant warmth. You were sure the three of you looked like a right sight— strange clothes hanging from your bones like you were draped in countless, very wet blankets, and dripping onto the wood floor below you. You tried to fix your appearance slightly, pushing your hair out of your eyes and attempting to straighten your top and skirt. The cloth stuck to your skin, making the task near impossible, and eventually you relented in your quest for proper etiquette. You pulled your cloak tighter against your body, shielding your surely see-through shirt from the ravenous eyes of the male hotel patrons. As if sensing your unease, Sebastian leveled his gaze into a glare and took a minute step in front of you, Ominis doing the same but to your rear. Shuffling like a conjoined unit, the three of you approached the front desk with a hope of sanctuary.

The man in front of you was older, probably about the same age as Professor Weasley, and looked inviting enough to speak to. He smiled hesitantly at your trio, his eyes wracking up and down your sopping wet forms and taking everything you had to offer in. He spoke confidently, but with a question obviously lingering on the tip of his tongue.

“How can I help you three?”

Ominis took the lead, subtly shifting into his more prim and proper nature. “We would like to rent two rooms, please. We are traveling through and got caught in the rain; it would be unwise to continue on foot at this time.”

The innkeep leveled a suspicious stare at the boy, letting his eyes roam from his milky, unseeing eyes to where his shoulder brushed against yours, then across your own form, sticking for a moment where your other shoulder touched Sebastian’s, and then finally up to the brunette’s stoic face. You certainly were an odd bunch.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “How old are you lot?”

Ominis straightened his shoulders, standing to his full height and twisting his face into one of the most serious expressions you had ever seen cross his visage. “Old enough to rent a room for one night, I would think. Now, are you going to let my wife, her brother, and I rest after a very long day, or shall we turn our business elsewhere?”

You fought the blush that threatened to creep up your neck. His wife? Oh Merlin, you were in trouble. Of all the lies to tell, why that one? Of all ways to try and make you seem older…

To your left, Sebastian’s face contorted more into a scowl.

The blond reached into his cloak and pulled out a small satchel, tossing it onto the countertop before the hotel owner. It jingled as it fell— copper money clinking together in a rich little symphony.

“I assure you, our coin is good.”

The man looked shocked, eyes now flickering between the tall boy and the bag of riches. You could see the cogs turning in his mind as he thought about the best course of action— he tended to speak more with his eyes, you noted to yourself. The thought of money seemed to outweigh his qualms about renting to three very obvious teenagers as he reached forwards and grabbed the tiny bag.

“Only got one room available. Take it or leave it.”

The two boys stiffened at your sides, their minds filling with similar images of the three of you huddled close together for warmth. You could tell Ominis was about to object, and as hesitant as you also were you knew that there wasn’t another inn for miles. You quickly jumped into the conversation, to hell with what was normally deemed proper.

“We’ll take it, right boys?”

Quite frankly, you didn’t really care if they didn’t agree with sharing a room with you. The sweet song of a warm bath called to you like a siren, and you wanted nothing more than to dive deep under the water and let it envelop you.

Grumbling under their breath, they both nodded their heads. You reached your hand out, taking the key from the kind man and followed in his footsteps as he led you to the room.

After thanking the kind man again, you could barely make it two steps into the cabin before running into the strong backs of Sebastian and Ominis. They both stood stone-still in the entryway, eyes locked on something in front of them like a doe under the watchful eye of a hunter. Your eyes could only just peek over their shoulders, and upon placing your hands on their forearms as you stood on the tips of your toes, you could feel the heated blush creeping up under their clothes. Your eyebrows crested together in confusion.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You could only describe the atmosphere around you as awkward as both boys cleared their throats and began stuttering out various forms of explanations and decisions about…sleeping arrangements?

“I-it’s nothing! Don’t worry about it, w-we can figure something out—”

“We can sleep on the floor, i-if that would make everyone more comfortable. It’s only proper that the lady g-get the bed—”

Merlin, you’d never heard them so shaken before.

You tried to shove your way through their body blockade, annoyance seeping into your words. “What is this nonsense all about? No one’s sleeping on the floor, don’t be daft.”

Seeing that their embarrassed stumblings were getting them nowhere, the Slytherin’s hung their heads and stepped aside so you could get through. Seeing the full extent of the room now, you were able to understand their trepidation.

“Oh…”

There was only one bed.

Ominis spoke up from your side, his hand rubbing at the back of his very red neck. “As I said, we can sleep on the floor if that would make you more comfortable…” His sentence trailed off at the end, nervous about your possible reactions.

Sebastian nodded his head to your left before catching your eye, causing him to turn his face away and admire the painting on the wall like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. You caught sight of the intense rouge on his cheeks before he was able to hide it, though.

You sighed to yourself, closing your eyes tightly and fighting off the blush that threatened to color you from the top of your chest to the tips of your ears. You willed away the unseemly images that swam in your mind at the thought of the three of you tangled together on the very small bed. It was barely enough room for two people, let alone three— you’d be pressed as close as possible for the whole night, warm bodies linked together like an intricate knot. Heat pooled in your stomach at the thought of being in the middle of both boys, one pressed against your backside and the other against your front like a tantalizing sandwich.

You cleared your throat, your mouth suddenly incredibly dry as you schooled your expression into one of neutrality, praying that they couldn’t read your ulterior motives on your face. “I-I’m fine with sharing if you both are. We’re friends— friends can share a bed for a night.”

You didn’t think it was possible for Ominis to get any more red; any darker and he would resemble a fresh tomato.

Sebastian heaved a shaky sigh, like he was trying to expel all of the uncouth thoughts and sheer nerves from his system, and cleared his throat again, already turning towards the en-suite bathroom down the tightly packed hallway.

“I’ll follow your lead. Now, I would like to take a bath and get out of these wet clothes if that’s alright with you.”

Your reply bounced harmlessly against his retreating form. “O-Okay!”

Mere moments later, the sound of running water reached your ears.

The remaining two of the trio stood there in a statue-like pause, stewing in their own personal wet dream for a moment with an uneasy, awful silence. You’d given up trying to shut your mind up by this point, instead trying to adopt a laissez faire attitude about the whole thing and ignoring the ache between your legs that screamed to be taken care of. Merlin, you had never been this worked up before, even in the comfort and privacy of your own room. One measly setback and you’d transformed into a prepubescent school boy!

Ominis was the first to break himself out of his stupor, shuffling around on his feet and dropping his jaw open and closed like a dying fish as he searched for the right words to say. He breathed deeply through his nose, steadying himself before gesturing with his hand towards the rest of the room.

“After you.” Always the gentleman, that one.

You nodded, whispering a quiet thanks before stepping out of the cramped entryway. The room was scarce, just a single full bed and a rug adorning the wood floor. Some paintings were hung on the wall to make it seem more homely, but the effect honestly just made it seem even smaller. You sat on the mattress, testing the feel under you and the softness of the sheets. They were slightly rough against your hands, but nothing that would deter you from sleep for the night. The bed barely gave way to your weight— the thing had to be made of stone with how hard it was. Maybe the floor would actually be better, you mused to yourself.

The blond cleared his throat for the upteenth time that night, drawing your attention towards where he leaned against the opposite wall. There really wasn’t much room in the space, if you stretched your foot a little bit further you could touch his. He looked away again, feeling your eyes on his skin— the attention from you felt like a million tiny hot pokers.

“You should get out of those clothes.” Color flooded his face again once he realized what he said. “I-I mean because your clothes are wet! You could catch a cold— oh Merlin, I am so sorry, that came out entirely wrong—”

His sentence pittered out at the sound of your giggle. The blond let his shoulders relax slightly, grateful you weren’t offended by his blunder. You stood, beginning to peel layers of your clothes from your body and letting them fall to the floor with a wet plop. Sitting back on the bed, now sans your cloak, blazer, vest, tie, and tights, you smiled mischievously in the boy’s direction, lightly teasing him.

“My, Ominis, if you wanted my clothes off all you had to do was ask nicely.”

The blond laughed heartily, pushing off the wall and striding the small distance towards the bed, sitting down next to you and crossing one of his legs under him. He fell easily back into the playful banter you’d adopted since your first unfortunate meeting outside the Undercroft.

“You’d like that, you vixen.”

This time, his teasing had a different effect than normal— the intimacy of the situation not lost on your subconscious in the slightest. The air around you felt fraught with tension; he was suddenly much closer to you than what was normally deemed appropriate. He seemed to sense this as well, and his body tensed under your watchful gaze. You had jokingly flirted before, both with him and with Sebastian, but this was incredibly different. It felt different. Your hands were nearly touching on the bed, your knees brushing against each other from the angle of your bodies. Ever so slightly, you slid your hand along the bedspread, grazing your pinky against his, listening to his breathing hitch at the shock of your cold skin against his. Not a single breath could be heard in the space, all the blood rushing to your head and your pupils dilating at the barely concealed look of what you could only describe as want in Ominis’ eyes.

Gods, did he want this as much as you did? Need you as much as you needed him?

His hand inched the rest of the way, sliding over the top of your fingers and gripping them between his much longer ones. Your breaths mingled in the space between you, the warmth brushing across your freezing cheeks and curling around your pounding heart— the organ could rocket out of your chest at any moment, and you honestly couldn’t bring yourself to care; you just didn’t want him to move away. On the contrary, the opposite happened— Ominis began to move closer. His breathing stuttered in his chest, a soft shaky sigh falling from his open mouth when he felt you do the same.

He licked his lips, eyes half lidded in desire. “We shouldn’t… Sebastian is in the bathroom.”

You shifted closer, resting your other hand on his knee. Your voice was nothing more than a breath in the wind. “Of course…it wouldn’t be right of us.”

Your faces inched closer and closer together, noses nearly brushing at this point. The pulsing in your ears muted everything else in the room, not alerting you to the sound of water draining out of the bathtub. What was startlingly loud, though, was the creak of the bathroom door slowly swinging open and Sebastian stepping into the room. The both of you jumped apart like the idea of your skin touching burned you. You quickly stood from the bed, ignoring the very confused brunette who was standing there in only his undershirt and boxers, and nearly sprinted to the washroom, mumbling that you would be taking your turn in the hot water now.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you threw your face into your hands, groaning as quietly as possible. Why did you do that? You’ve been in love with those two idiots for a year at least, and now you choose to do something about it? Good lord, why now, why you, why them? You wanted to kiss Ominis in that moment more than anything else in the world, it was like his lips were calling to you in the sweetest voice you had ever heard before— curse Sebastian and his terrible timing! You wanted to throw something at him— a chair, yourself, you weren’t picky.

The thought of the other boy sent your heart into even more of a tissy, thinking back to how scantily clad he was when you ran like a bat out of hell past him. Merlin, his shoulders, his arms, his thighs. Don’t even get you started on that slutty little waist of his. You were burning inside with arousal at the mere thought of him leaning over you, his tanned, heavenly freckled arms caging your head in on either side.

Jesus fucking Christ.

You quickly shed the rest of your clothes from your body, taking the time to fold your underwear and slip dress for later and placing them on the sink— everything else you kicked away into a pile next to Sebastian’s things. There was something so…domestic about your clothes mingled together on the floor. Stepping into the scalding hot water sent a lovely shock through your system, heating your freezing skin back to a normal temperature. The moan that left your throat was damn near sinful. You soaked in the water for a good while, letting the stress of the evening shed from you like the droplets of rain smacking against the windowpane. It was complete bliss, being alone with nothing but your thoughts and the sweet smell of the lavender soap that the inn provided. Your thoughts began to wonder again, thinking about what Ominis’ lips would have felt like against yours. They looked so incredibly soft, and you wondered if they would feel like kissing little tiny clouds— if they would be just as pillowy pressed against the rest of your skin. You closed your eyes and let your mind drift, allowing yourself the smallest bit of indulgence in your insatiable appetite. The picture behind your eyes shifted to Sebastian, how the rain ran down his neck, dripping down his pulse and pooling in the tiny dips of his collarbones under the translucent fabric of his collar. You wondered what the water would taste like on his skin. Would it be salty, like sweat? Mild, like rain normally was? Sweet, like the promise of more to come? You bit your lip against the small whine that threatened to leave your mouth, quickly pulling your hand away from where it began to bury in your naked core. No! You couldn’t do that right now, they were just outside the door!

With the last little bit of self control you had left, you stood from your watery paradise and dried off with the towel hanging on the rack closest to you. You just had to get through this night, then you could go back to the castle and have as much solo fun as you wanted.

The universe must have truly wanted you to die of embarrassment, because as soon as you left the sanctuary of the bathroom you ran into the scrumptiously sturdy chest of Ominis, causing him to grab you roughly by the hips so you didn’t go tumbling and press his entire body flush with yours. His heavy panting breaths were perfectly level with your ear at that angle, filling your mind once again with the tantalizing thoughts that you fought so hard to keep at bay. Your spine dug harshly into the door jam as you fell back from the velocity of the crash, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of his fingers tightening against the silk of your shift and the look of intrigued confusion turning down his face at the unfamiliar feeling fabric. Merlin, his face was so close again. His hands glided up your waist, feeling each and every one of your curves like a ship captain charting out the stars, ever so lightly grazing the sides of your breasts before finding purchase on your bare shoulders. Only when his fingers dug deliciously into your skin and you gasped against him did he realize exactly how scantily clad you were. The blond made a noise very similar to a strangled kneazle and lept back, nearly crashing into the other side of the room. If eyes could speak, his would be screaming. Only now with him at arms distance did you notice the absolutely breathtaking pink that took over his entire face and neck, making his beauty marks stand out against his skin like brushstrokes by the finest painter in all the land. You shamelessly trailed your eyes down his chest again, watching it rise and fall from the sheer desperation of his lungs fighting to get air to his brain. Speaking of brains, your eyes made one last jump down to his trousers, finding the fabric pulled taut against his hips and silhouetting a quite lovely shape against his thigh— something you vaguely remember feeling against your own thigh moments ago. You swallowed the moan that threatened to tumble from your throat, your thighs clenching together slightly. You’d drop to your knees and pray at the church of him at that very second if you weren’t so damned shy.

Ominis scrambled upright fully, dancing from foot to foot out of embarrassment before tripping into the bathroom, only turning slightly in the doorway to throw an apology in your direction. “Oh my— I just— I’m terribly sorry— I’m just going to— oh, Merlin—”

The door closed with a slam, the lock twisting with a resounding click soon after.

A dark-colored chuckle from your left drew your attention, twisting your neck towards the waiting Slytherin now man-spreading on the bed, a pillow pressed just so across his lap. The devilish smirk stretched further across Sebastian’s face at the barely concealed arousal that grew in your eyes. Your pupils flickered from his face down to the feather-down cushion, imagining the treasure that you could find underneath the layers of cotton and tuff.

Somehow you were able to gulp against the Sahara Desert levels of dry that your mouth was at the current moment.

The brunette patted the bed next to him invitingly, shifting slightly over out of courtesy as you stumbled over, your legs feeling like gelatin from a mix of the lust and exhaustion that mingled in your veins. His eyes never left yours as you sat, feeling him drink in the sight of you in nothing but your underclothes, dangerously dehydrated.

“How was your bath?” He asked, a smugness you were very familiar with teasing knowingly in his voice.

You giggled nervously, smoothing your hands down your thighs to wipe the sweat from your palms. “It was nice— very comfortable.”

Sebastian chuckled again, his face leaning in closer to you like he was whispering a secret. “It certainly sounded like it.”

It felt like your heart was beating at a mile a minute. Where did this confidence come from all of a sudden? What happened while you were in the bathroom?

You thought back to the tent in Ominis’ trousers, casting your gaze back down to the pillow adorning Sebastian’s lap.

There was absolutely no way. Surely not?

Sebastian answered that question for you when he rested his hand on your thigh, smoothing his fingers up and under the silk fabric slightly and rubbing his thumb against your sweltering skin. “I can say with complete honesty that we also enjoyed your bath.”

You’d drowned in the bathtub, that had to be the answer for this fever dream— that was the only answer to this sudden shift in personality by your ravenous brunette friend. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive, lick you down to the bone and suck the marrow from inside like a perfectly cooked t-bone steak. You could tell he still had some restraint about him from the way that he fisted the bed sheets he was leaning his other arm on, keeping his body upright and stopping him from all but throwing you onto the mattress and devouring you like his favorite meal. Heat continued to pool more and more in your core, your abdomen tightening against the pleasure pulsing in your lower stomach.

“S-Sebastian—”

He plowed through your sentence, his niceties and manners giving way to the carnal desire throbbing under his skin. “That being said, I’m sure we could have even more fun out here, couldn’t we?”

His hot breath fanned across your face like a delectable fire, turning your insides to mush and threatening to do the same with your rational thought. You placed your hand against the center of his very toned chest— Merlin— and pushed him away slightly, inhaling air into your shivering lungs like it was your job.

“Sebastian, Ominis is right there. We can’t—”

He scoffed, dragging the hand on your thigh the rest of the way under your slip and wrapping it around your waist, pulling you closer to him harshly, causing you to lose your balance and press as close as possible to him. He leaned his face upwards, something unfamiliar but dangerous glittering in his irises as he whispered in your ear— his sinful smile pinning against the edge of your jaw.

“I assure you, he liked it too, lovely. I don’t think he’d be opposed to some…” He bit lightly at your earlobe, a soft moan breathing from your lips at his intrusion. “…auditory stimulation.”

Fuck it. Restraint never did you any favors, anyway.

He leaned his head downwards towards where your neck met your shoulder, nosing at the soft skin there before letting his teeth run gently against your pulse point. You moaned in earnest this time, not caring one bit if the blond behind the door mere feet away could hear you.

Good, you thought. Let him hear.

A loud crash came from the bathroom, startling Sebastian enough that he thrust his head upwards, catching on your chin painfully. You hissed, cradling the bruised bone in your hands as he quickly apologized, turning his full attention to the closed door just beyond. Ominis threw the door open, not even flinching when the door handle violently slammed against the wall, creating a dent in the drywall.

The blond stood there in all his glory, his chest heaving even harder now and a color closer to a ripe dragonfruit covering every inch of his skin. He had obviously just gotten out of the bath; his hair hung low in his face and dripped water steadily on the shoulder of his white undershirt. He too had taken everything off except his underclothes, his boxers hugging his hips in an absolutely scandalous way that made you want to rip them off then and there and get to the appetizing muscle tenting the fabric— Gods, he can never wear clothes around you ever again. Fighting your eyes to stop ogling the poor man, you cast your gaze to the floor just behind his feet, seeing a long bar of metal still rolling slightly against the tile and the towel that was once wrapped around it. On the wall where there was once a towel rack was now barren, just two holes decorating the space where it once lived. With one final eye flick, you look at Ominis’ hand closest to the scene of the crime, noticing that his fingers were a bright red from all the blood returning to the flesh. The puzzle pieces connected together in your brain after a few sluggish, very horny seconds.

Oh. Oh my. Ominis heard everything that just happened. Not only did he hear it, he liked it so much he accidentally ripped the towel rack off the wall with his desperation to open the door and hear it without the door muffling your sounds.

Sebastian must have come to the same conclusion as you, because his grin doubled in size with each passing second as he undressed the flustered blond with his eyes. “Ominis, what’s wrong—”

The once regal Slytherin crossed the room faster than you had ever seen him move before, quickly feeling his way up the brunette’s arm before grasping at his neck, pulling him closer and crashing their mouths together in a show of more teeth than lips. Sebastian responded eagerly, groaning low in his chest and threading his fingers in the wet tresses of his friend, pulling the blond closer against him in an awkward angle. You stared wide-eyed at the sight before you, watching your two best friends devour each other in a clash of lips and tongue, listening to the unseemly sounds that flowed in the air around them. You couldn’t help the feeble whimper that escaped your parted lips, drawing the attention of the esurient heir of Slytherin. Sebastian whined as Ominis pulled away from the embrace, only to choke on the sound at the sight of the blond surging forwards towards you with just as much ferocity as before and capturing your lips into an equally bruising kiss. His tongue dove into your open mouth, taking your invitation to explore with grandeur and mingling the soft muscle with yours. You fisted at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer and shifting backwards on the bed, pulling him downwards with you until he was laying on top of you. One of your hands reached up and buried itself in the thick blond locks of the one absolutely inhaling the sweet taste of your lips like the boy before did, your other falling to his waist and pushing underneath the hem of his shirt, running your palm across the hot skin of his stomach. All inhibition and propriety was thrown out the window just as fast as the downpour fell from the sky outside.

A third hand joined the fray— Sebastian’s resuming his original journey up the side of your underclothes and reaching your stomach, pushing the fabric up your supple thighs until it pooled at your waist, leaving your white cotton panties on show for all the world to see. He groaned in pain at the sight of the obvious wet patch right in the center, diving his face towards your open and inviting neck and biting at the skin there. You keened into Ominis’ mouth, arching your back off the bed and pressing the puddle of molten lava that resided between your legs against the blond’s hard length. He moaned heavenly against your lips, kissing his way down your cheek and jaw until he too latched his teeth onto your neck like his Slytherin counterpart. You were in absolute bliss, your brain shutting off and losing itself in the sweet pleasure that coursed through your entire body. This alone was going to kill you, and you would happily die in this battle of tongue and teeth.

May Odin take you into his waiting arms as you enter through the gates of Valhalla— this was certainly a war worthy for the land of kings and queens.

Everything was a rush of emotion, all feelings that had been buried deep down in your souls surging to the surface in one grand swoop. Laying there, a tangle of limbs and underclothes and sugar-scented breaths felt like it was exactly where you belonged in the world. With one head on each side of your neck, you could easily reach up and pull them by the hair closer into your orbit— you the sun and them the lowly planets revolving around your devastatingly bright euphoria.

You’d be perfectly content letting them worship you like this for the rest of time, but Ominis was always a bit more greedy than Sebastian when it came to the desires of the senses. The blond slowly made his way down to your chest, only stopping to pull your clothes from your body before diving right back into your soft, pillowy hereafter. He found your breasts quickly, letting his skilled hands first squeeze the flesh before tweaking your nipples, making them stand to a perfect peak before latching his mouth to the button and sucking. Your back lifted off the bed more, pathetic whines and mewls tumbling from your throat every so often, only to be broken up by whimpers of your companions' names. Sebastian smiled wickedly against your pulse, continuing to bite and nibble at the skin there as the hand not busy wrapped around your throat reached down and pawed at your other, very neglected mound of flesh. He wanted to only hear those sounds from then on out— wanted to hear even more of them.

Ominis pulled off of your peak with an absolutely raunchy pop, pressing one of his arms against your hips when he felt you grind against his throbbing length as your lovers pleased you. He nipped lightly at the skin in between your mountains, nosing gently at your sternum and whispering against your ribs.

“None of that yet. Let us take care of you, darling.”

Your heart stopped for a full five seconds— goodbye cruel world. Cause of death: horny boy with a penchant for people-pleasing.

You sighed shakily, your words stuttered and soaking in flustered arousal. “O-Okay…”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest and shaking against you. “Good. You sound so beautiful like this. What I would give to see you spread out below us— my hands can only just suffice my craving.”

A particularly loud sob falls from your lips at the feeling of Sebastian tweaking your nipple with just the right amount of pressure. “Am I dreaming?”

It was Sebastian’s turn to laugh, his breath warming the skin of your collarbone. “I really hope not, because then all three of us would be dreaming the same thing. We don’t need Professor Onai to see that in our crystal ball, do we?”

You rolled your eyes with a huff. “You know what I me— oh fuck!”

In your blissful haze, you didn’t feel Ominis kiss his way down your body and situate himself between your thighs until he licked a long stripe along the dripping crotch of your panties. The brunette teasing you groaned again in agony at the sight of the other Slytherin’s thoroughly mussed up blond quiff poking out from between your inner thighs.

With a renewed vigor, Sebastian helped the blond pull your panties down your legs, latching back onto your neck like a leech once the offending fabric was far away from where his hands could roam. Ominis kneeled on the bed, face level with your sweltering center and breathing in the sweet, musky scent of your pleasure. Merlin, you were a goddess— your beguiling center the most saccharine ambrosia to him. He was sure if he ate you how he wished he too would become a god. You reached your hand down, fisting his hair between your trembling fingers and tugging lightly at the root, whining for him to move, to do something. You needed him on a biblical level. After centuries of waiting, Ominis repeated his movement from before, diving into your oceanic sea and lapping at your waves like Poseidon himself.

You’d never known pleasure like this before— never known indulgence like this before. He flicked his tongue against the painfully hard knot at the top of your center, pushing your clit lightly with just enough pressure before taking it into his mouth and suckling lightly. Stars burst behind your eyes, filling your world with supernovas dyed the color of your partners’ eyes.

Desperate to make them both feel good too, you reached your free hand towards Sebastian, wrapping your fist around his throbbing member that hung so nicely near your face and pulling it out of the strangling fabric of his boxers. He whined at the cool air against his scorching skin. One of your legs was thrown over Ominis’ shoulder, allowing the boy to get a better grip of you as he wolfed you down like a man starved and allowing you the ability to press his hips closer to the bed, grinding his manhood against the knitted blankets. His resulting moan, more of a growl if you had to be specific, sent vibrations right to the knot that was building in your lower stomach, tightening it closer to its inevitable snap. Sebastian’s eyes never left the scene before him as he sat up to his knees, wrapping his hand around yours and showing you how he liked to be touched as you bathed in the throes of rapture. Soon moans came from the both of you as you picked up on the rhythm, your voices harmonizing like a melodic hymn at the pews of gluttonous lust and stalling the gears turning in the brain of the blond between your legs. He began to shamelessly rut against the mattress below his hips, letting your leg press him down closer and providing an otherworldly amount of pressure against his still clothed cock. The friction pushed the band of his underwear down more and more with each thrust until his member was finally free. His bare skin against the vaguely soft blankets the inn provided felt astronomically better than before.

At the sound of Ominis’ self pleasuring, the cries of the people he loved so shamefully before in just the comfort of his mind becoming so much for him to handle that he couldn’t wait one more moment to feel something against his agonizingly hard cock, you pull Sebastian closer by his member, hoping he got the message you were trying to convey without words. He luckily did, a hungry look taking over his expression as he got off the bed, pulling your body closer to the edge so your mouth was exactly level with him. He groaned when he felt your soft lips close around the pulsating pink tip of his shaft, your tongue flicking against the prominent vein that stretched from the top to the bottom. Ominis moaned again against your clit, hearing what was going on above him and grinding his member against the bed with more vigor than before, causing you to rock your hips harshly against his face and pull more of Sebastian into your throat. The brunette couldn’t hold back his inhibitions anymore; with a firm grip he wrapped his hand around your neck for a second time that night, using the leverage provided to fuck into your mouth slowly.

No words needed to be said by anyone involved, each of you taken over by pure, wanton frenzy. Being used by Sebastian was a religious experience in itself, and you just a devout follower eager to please— Ominis your angel from above, pouring devotion into his every move, rewarding you for a job well done.

Your muted hums quickly became louder against Sebastian’s cock when Ominis pressed a digit into your weeping hole, stretching you just right and curling against the spot that made you believe heaven was real. The combination of your throat vibrating against him and your tongue flicking just under the ridge of his head was all it took to do him in indefinitely, his hips stuttering in your velvet mouth and the hand not wrapped around your throat tugging at your hair, trying to pull you off of him. You held on tighter, your free hand gripping his thigh and keeping him right where he was.

Absolutely not.

Sebastian’s eyes rolled back into his head when you closed your lips tighter and sucked, sending profanities to pour from his mouth like a broken faucet.

“Oh fuck— Yes, Merlin, just like that— Shit, I’m gonna cum. Take it all for me— good girl—”

You caught every drop of his salty release as it slid down your throat, letting your legs squeeze tighter against Ominis’ skull at the sweeter-than-candy whine that released from the brunette above you.

With one partner spent, you were determined to meet him soon in his little death and take the other Slytherin with you. With the last bit of your strength, you grinded against Ominis’ face, chasing the orgasm that crested just under the surface of your skin. The blond did the same with a muffled growl, pulling you tighter against his frantic mouth and letting you suffocate him in your enticing embrace as he rutted his hips against the mattress to near completion. With one more strong suck on your clit, timed perfectly with a curl of his finger inside of you, you tumbled over the edge of your metaphorical cliff. Sebastian thought through his orgasmic haze that nearly everyone in the inn must have heard your screaming finish. Ominis followed you soon after, his release staining the sheets below him as your thighs tightened impossibly more against his ears as your climax ripped through your system.

The three of you crumpled together onto the bed, tangled in a messy knot of limbs and desperately needing a second bath as you fought off exhaustion just enough to climb under the covers. Once the blanket covered all of your naked forms, you dozed off into a pleasant slumber, one arm slung over the waist of the brunette cradled in your shoulder and the other hand resting on the crossed forearms of the blond hugged against your back. Conversation could happen tomorrow; for now, the night was growing old and you needed all of your energy for the trek home tomorrow.

As you were drifting off into dreamland, you thought to yourself that the soft sound of the rain against the shuttered windows of the inn was the most peaceful sound you had ever heard.

I think I let the religious trauma go a little too wild with this one, whoops.

***

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