#BUT ALSO GODDAMN HOT AS HELL AT THE SAME TIME

[historia-vitae-magistras]

A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?

Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.

Alfred:

 —Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.

 —With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.

 —He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.

 —He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.

 —He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.

 —This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.

 —He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.

 —He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.

 —He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.

—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.

—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.

 —Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.

 —He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.

 —That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.

Matt:

 —He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.

 —He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.

  —He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.

 —There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.

 —Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.

 —When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.

 —There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.

 —He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.

 —Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.

 —Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.

[louistomlindork]

may i present

the world’s sexiest mother fucker

i’m foaming at the mouth

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

ugh so it's my 1st baldur's gate 3 run, 70 hrs in early act 2, and it took me forever to decide "ok, I'll go for Gale" since my girl is a tav sorcerer and it's cute that they have magic in common, plus i dig a wholesome romance which it seems like he has (plus he's an adorable nerd)

But I started romancing Astarion (for funsies!! he was at neutral and it's maaaybe a lil out of character for my tav (she didn't even let him bite), but I really wanted her to get laid at the party lol)

and now after his constant flirting and profoundly sad undertones I am SO TEMPTED to start a new run (or load really old saves so it's still the same OC 😭) that are 100% going for Astarion approvals so I can see all his cutscenes, not be spoiled online, and have a coherent experience in my head where he gets to be happy and (I assume) in love

fuck lol

[fu-cough]

ive been doing workouts for two weeks straight now! (sat-mon breaks, mostly because i was busy during mondays)

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie has a serious problem.

A quagmire, perhaps, and it’s a real catch-22 of a situation too.

The problem really stems from how his and Steve’s third baby Hazel was born a few weeks earlier. 

The baby isn’t the problem, obviously.

It’s just…it is a truth universally acknowledged or whatever that men holding tiny little babies is hot as all hell even as a baseline. Factor in that the man in question is Steve Harrington, and then factor in that Hazel is their third baby so any nervousness has been completely eclipsed by an easy kind of confidence, and what you end up with is a level of hotness that really shouldn’t be allowed.

Also – Eddie forgot to mention, ever since Steve hit forty, he’s had the smallest hint of grey growing right at his temples and that isn’t helping things at all.

Eddie could eat him, honestly.

He really can’t believe the audacity of this guy for…just existing, really. Eddie can admit that all Steve is really guilty of is holding his infant daughter, but dear god what a crime that is.

Like, right now Steve is holding the baby against his chest with just one arm (and, seriously, the one arm thing is goddamn killing him, because it flexes his bicep in just the right way and Eddie would bite a chunk out of it if he could), the other midway through chucking a throw pillow at their oldest daughter for being a total monster about…well, Eddie would probably know what particular flavor of hell Moe is raising at the moment if he could take his eyes off of Steve for even a second.

But he can’t, so here they are.

Eddie also might be drifting off a little bit, and therein lies the catch-22 of it all –

It’s true that Steve is by far the hottest he’s ever been, but Eddie’s so tired that he couldn’t do anything about it even if he wanted to.

Actually – he’ll rephrase.

If he wasn’t so fucking tired, he’d be doing something about it. 

Immediately.

And, like, he has no fucking shame at all about this. Decorum and discretion, maybe, but shame? None whatsoever. 

Why should he?

It’s clearly the universe’s way of repaying him for all the shit it put him through as a teenager. Why the hell else would he not only be married to Steve, but also watching him fulfill his lifelong wish of becoming a dad three times over and aging like the finest of fine wines while he’s doing it. Eddie’s never even been a wine kind of guy, but when it’s Steve…obviously all bets are off.

Except, he's not being repaid in full, because there's the downside of having a newborn again – newborn babies don’t sleep. Well – she sleeps, but not when it’s convenient for Eddie and certainly not at the same time as his and Steve’s other two daughters. Plus, she’s proving herself to prefer contact naps over anything else, which Steve obviously loves, and…yeah, there’s a good few reasons why that shit doesn’t help Eddie’s situation at all.

Regardless, he hasn’t managed to sleep more than four straight hours at any point over the last three weeks, so any time he does have a child-free second to spare, that’s what he’s doing.

Steve notices him looking, because of course he does.

“What?” he asks, his voice low and quiet and a little tired and so so sexy.

“Oh, the things I’m doing to you in my head, Stevie-boy,” Eddie replies, (even though he knows he’ll be crashing the second his head hits the pillow – whenever the hell that ends up being).

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says even as he shifts Hazel so she’s cradled in the curve of his arm (because he’s a goddamn bastard and he knows exactly what he’s doing), “Put your money where your mouth is, babe.”

[lovelytsunoda]

glad I crashed the wedding // oscar piastri

summary: she needed a wedding date. he wanted a reason to spend time with her. but of course, the inn only has one bed, and oscar makes her feel alive in a way she's never felt before.

pairing: oscar piastri x female! reader

warnings: sexual tension, one bed trope, difficult sister relationship (though they love each other very very much), eventual smut, fake dating (I’ve been reading too much Ana Huang lately)

“so let me get this straight,” she began, swirling the coconut-mango-pineapple icy drink in her hand, leaning back against the photocopier. “you, the great oscar piastri, wants to come home with me to be my date for my sisters wedding, and you don’t want anything in return?”

oscar nodded, a wide grin on his face as the copy machine continued to churn out waivers for the hot lap guests to sign. “that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“but why?”

oscar shrugged, trying to come up with a convincing lie. “because I’m your friend. and this is what friends do.”

y/n sighed, sipping her drink before turning away from the driver. keeping eye contact was dangerous when it was with oscar piastri. when it was with the man who set her nerve endings on fire, who made her stomach churn like the rising tide with a gesture as small as a wave, or an offer to buy her a drink.

who had an accent that made her core throb, soaking her panties right through when she thought about how his voice would sound in her ear if he was whispering some less-than-holy things to her.

“I don’t want to subject you to the insanity. you might not want to be friends after you meet my family. we can’t even be in the same room sometimes, it’s like dropping a match onto a pile of dry leaves.”

oscar laughed and she tried to ignore the shivers the sound sent up her spine, the rising goose flesh on her arms as she counted the waivers, having to start the count over again more than a few times.

“I’m sure they’re not that bad.” oscar reasoned, taking the file folder from her, insisting on lightening her load. “I just want you to feel at ease.”

she rolled her eyes, grabbing her drink as she started to walk out of the motorhome. “I’ve been living in delias shadow since I was fourteen. she’s a well respected medical professional; and I went to a three year college. everything she does is perfect. hell, she’s getting married this weekend and here I am, convincing myself that letting you tag along is a good idea so I don’t look like I’m going to die alone.”

it’s not like she wasn’t successful. she was a part of the legal team for one one of the biggest racing names in the world. when Oscar’s contract dispute started, she had been the one who served otmar his papers (and to this day, saying the words “otmar szafanuer you have been served, see you in court” was still one of the finest moments of her career).

it’s just that delia always brought out the worst in her, every insecurity, every flaw she hated about herself. their childhood has been fraught with insecurity and competition.

she sighed, leaning against one of the paddocks scratchy palm trees, bark digging into the skin on her arms. oscar was still trying to plead his case, and she wondered why she was fighting it.

this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? oscar on her arm, making her feel like she was wanted, loved, even?

she took another sip of her drink before she spoke again.

“we’ll probably have to share a hotel room, and my dad might threaten you with his antique saw collection. you’ll also have to stop me from killing delia with my bare hands before the big day.”

oscar chuckled, handing back her file folder. “I think I can handle that.”

that goddamn smile. that’s where it all started, when she first started to think about his lips on hers, his hands in her hair, his mouth wrapped around her nipples.

why on earth was she agreeing to this?

“you’d better be up bright and early tomorrow. it’s a long flight and my dad is meeting us at the airport. as far as everyone knows, I’m not bringing a date.”

the feeling of his hand against the small of her back burned into her skin. she could feel his body heat through the thick fabric of her papaya golf shirt as he started guiding her towards the garage where the hot laps were being conducted.

“oscar, what are you doing?”

he grinned at her, baring his pearl-white teeth, in their slightly uneven top row. “if we’re going to convince your dad that we’re together, we’d better start practicing.”

god, this man was going to be the death of her.

————

she regretted inviting oscar along the second they got off the plane.

from the moment they passed through airport security, it was as if a switch had been flicked in her brain, converting him from the serious, driven race car driver she met at the track, to a man straight out of the romance book she had been listening to on the flight. his hand was rooted to her back protectively, and he wouldn't let her carry any of her luggage on her own.

she could get used to this, she thought, watching his t-shirt ride up over his defined abs as he reached into the overhead cabin to pull down her two small suitcases.

they walked peacefully through the terminal, oscar pushing the baggage cart with one hand, his free arm looped over her shoulder.

"you know you don't have to act like my boyfriend until we see my father, right?" she said hesitantly, running a thumb over his knuckles. "my feelings won't get hurt if you don't want to pretend when nobody else is around.

oscar acted like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by a shout across the airport.

"y/n!" the voice shouted. "there's my girl!"

"dad!" she shouted, breaking away from oscar's side to launch herself into her father's arms. the constant travel that came with working in formula one took it's toll, and she didn't get to see her father as often as she liked. she'd had to move to england to work with mclaren, and her family had stayed behind.

she never said she loved that part of her job, but a little space away from her family often made her appreciate them a little more.

"dad, i want you to meet someone." she started, waving at oscar, who lumbered over with the weighed-down baggage cart. "this is my boyfriend, oscar." despite the lie, and how foreign the words were, saying them almost felt right.

my boyfriend oscar.

"i'm carl, nice to meet you." her father said, his voice a slight bit more gentle than his usual grunt.

oscar shook carl's hand, a bit of weariness on his face as he slipped his smooth, dainty hand inside carl's larger, more calloused one. "nice to meet you, sir."

carl raised an eyebrow. "australian? you'd better not be giving my daughter any of those australian kisses."

"dad, what the hell!?" she whined, hiding her face behind her hands as a blush began to coat her cheeks. if there was one thing she definitely was not getting from oscar piastri, it was australian kisses.

oscar thought she was cute when she was flustered. it was such a shame it took him an hot minute to figure out why.

australian kisses are like french kisses, just down under. it was mark who had said it to him first, in an attempt to be funny. as the meaning set in for oscar, he found himself silently cursing mark webber.

but it didn't mean he didn't get half-hard thinking about having his head between y/n's thighs.

________

"you've got to be shitting me."

she knew they would be sharing a bedroom. all of the plus ones were rooming in the chic, trendy motel with the guests who had invited them. and that would have been fine.

except that this hotel only had a queen bed, done up with plush white sheets and a small turquoise blanket draped over the bottom half.

a queen bed that she would have to share with a man that she wished would fuck her brains out.

"i can call the main office if you want." oscar suggested softly, reaching for the door handle. "i can see if they have another room, or they could bring a cot in for me?"

she sighed, raking her hair over her head as she looked around the room. "don't bother. the motel only has fifteen rooms, and it's booked solid for delia's wedding, between her bridal party and the fiancée's family, i doubt they'd even really have a cot. we can manage, right?"

oscar nodded, hands buried deep in his sweatpant pockets. damn those gray sweats.

"we can make a towel barrier, and the bed is more than big enough for both of us. hell, we could probably have a threesome on that bed and still have space."

did oscar piastri not have a single drop of shame?

she shook her head, trying to forget the thought of a half-naked oscar hovering over her, whispering things in her ear. she made a grab for her suitcase placing it on the bed and grabbing a handful of clothes and a travel bath and body works bottle.

"i'm going for a shower, can we talk about this afterwards? i'm jet lagged and i really just want to sleep."

"sure." oscar shrugged, spreading hismelf out on the bed, arms over his head so that his shirt once again showed off his stunning lower torso.

she tried to stop herself from staring at the happy trail dipping under oscar's waistband, but she failed miserably, her eyes following the small trail of hair down to the waistband of his jack and jones boxers, to the impressive lump underneath his jeans.

if his cock was that big when it was soft, how would it feel when it was hard, throbbing and inside of her. just the mere thought was making heat grow between her legs-

nope. we're not going there today.

she squeaked out some kind of muffled statement, clutching her clothes to her chest and making a mad dash towards the bathroom door. a cold shower should fix this, right?

when oscar heard the shower turn on, the music clicking on soon after, he sat up on the bed, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. he knew he should shower as well, but the fatigue of air travel was beginning to set in. a small nap wouldn't hurt, right?

he got up from the bed, socked feet sliding against the laminate floor as he reached for the wheels on the bottom of y/n's suitcase. all he needed to do was close the suitcase, move it out of the way, close his eyes, and then drift of into a peaceful slumber.

all he had to do was hope that he didn't wake up hard, or moan her name in his sleep. it should be easy, right?

wrong. the suitcase slipped out of his grip, almost sliding off the bed before he thanked god for his reflexes, stopping the suitcase from hitting the floor, save for a few articles of clothing.

he leaned down picking up the black busted tour shirt and denim shorts, his breath catching in his throat when he saw what was resting on the area rug underneath.

it was a mass of bright peach lace, the color so close to the mclaren signature papaya, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked it up and unraveled the halter bralette. he bit back a moan as he stared at the lace and mesh that left very little to the imagination.

he started to think about his mild-mannered co-worker wearing it, her perky nipples pressing against the bright, skimpy fabric.

the mere thought sent all the blood rushing straight to his cock.

god, he was down so bad that it should be criminal.

he shouldn’t be thinking about whispering dirty sweet nothings against her skin, or sucking a hickey into her thigh before he plunges his tongue inside of her.

he shouldn’t be thinking about anything that would make his boner worse.

and that was when he heard the bathroom door open. and there wasn’t enough time to hide the sweat seeping from the pores on his skin, the tent in his sweatpants, or the fact that he was still holding the offending lingerie in his hands.

“it’s not what it looks like!” the driver sputters, turning around to face her, and bitting his lip to stop himself from losing whatever composure he has left.

she’s wearing booty shorts that barely cover her backside, the ass emblazoned with the acronym for the college she attended, her top half covered with a loose-fitting muscle tank sporting a skeleton on a surfboard, the sides of her bare tits just barely visible through the arm holes.

“oscar,” she breathed, voice raspy when she saw the tent pitched in his pants. “do i turn you on?”

“you have since the day I met you.” he admits, dropping the bra and slowly moving closer, hesitantly running his hands down her still-warm sides. “tell me, y/n, do you touch yourself when you think about me?”

“i could ask you the same.” she shot back, her voice wavering as she pressed her hand shakily against oscars clothed cock. “your boyfriend act didn’t feel like an act this morning.”

they shouldn’t be doing this. it was crossing so many lines. but when oscar looked her dead in the eyes and breathed out a single word, all thoughts of self control went out the window.

"yes."

she pressed her lips against his, nipples springing to attention as she pressed her front against his, his hands moving from her sides to squeeze and caress her breasts, her mouth falling open in a moan against his lips. oscar took that chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth, his hands migrating to her hair as he maneuvered their bodies towards the bed.

she took the lead once her back hit the mattress, practically ripping her tank top off and casting it aside, hands making a mad grab for oscar's plain white shirt while he kissed and marked up her neck.

she whimpered under his touch, and would have been embarrassed had she not been so turned on.

"oscar, please." she begged, spreading her thighs as she tried to grind her core against his thigh. "i need you. i need your cock so deep inside me that i can still feel it three days later."

oscar practically growled at the admission, pulling his lips off her right tit. "are you begging for me, pretty girl? do you want me to make you feel good? hm, want me to treat you right?"

"yes." she breathed, tucking a hand underneath his boxers. "please, oscar."

god, his name sounded so sexy rolling off her tongue. he couldn't think straight when she had her slender fingers wrapped around his cock.

"are you sure you want this? because once i have you, i won't let you go. i'll need more."

"i'm sure, oscar. and i'm not just saying that because i think your mild possessiveness is kind of hot."

oscar smiled, a small, imperceptible blush forming on his cheeks. "you think i'm hot."

"since the day i met you." she hummed, sewing her lips to his, her fingers tugging on his hair, a small moan leaving his throat.

"oh, so pretty boy likes it when i tug on his hair." she giggled. "i learn something new every day."

"keep talking like that, and you won't be able to walk in the morning."

"i look forward to it."

oscar looked around, his eyes settling on the mirror hanging opposite the bed, right next to the bathroom door. he felt his dick throb as an idea formed in his head, pulling away from the body lying prone on the bed.

"shorts off, all-fours on the bed facing that mirror." he ordered, trying to keep a gentle tone in his voice as he clambered off the bed, stripping out of his sweatpants and boxers, hard member jutting straight out as her touched himself, trying to find some kind of release from the pressure between his legs.

she shivered at the command before making a show of dropping her shorts to show off the cream coloured cotton thong she was wearing, laughing to herself when oscar's eyes rolled back in his skull, a moan escaping his throat.

"god, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

she couldn't deny the excitement in her bones as she settled herself on the bed, arousal literally dripping down her thighs when she looked in the mirror and saw oscar looking at her, mounting the bed behind her before slapping his cock against her ass.

in a more tender, loving action, oscar leaned over her, pressing a kiss to the top of her spine.

"you're so pretty." he whispered, the compliment sinking into her skin like tattoo ink before he sunk into her, gripping her hips and closing his eyes to try and show some restraint as she got used to his size.

it was a sinful picture in that motel room mirror as he began to rut into her, watching her tits shake in the mirror, listening to her sweet whimpers and whines and pleads for more.

"god, yes, oscar! feels so-so fucking good, oh my god."

he met her eyes in the mirror, sweat running down his chest and dripping onto her back as he kept thrusting, the same relentless pace. "you're so good for me, pretty girl. so stunning, so sexy with my cock inside you like this. god, you're prefect. perfectly mine."

he practically growled the last word, knowing damn well that he was ruined for any other woman.

-------

they woke up in a tangled heap of limbs, not knowing where one body ended and the other began, lazily exchanging kisses as the sun rose outside.

"oscar, we have to go to the rehearsal." she whined as he kissed her neck. "if we're late, i'm never going to hear the end of it."

"don't care." oscar hums, running his hands up and down her sides. "i would gladly stay in bed with you all day and order room service so we don't ever have to leave."

"osc." she warned, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet over her chest. "we're going to the rehearsal. i'm a bridesmaid, remember?"

fifteen minutes later, oscar was in the bathroom steam-cleaning the wrinkles out of his suit while she tried on the bridesmaid dress, caramel fabric falling over her skin as she stared at herself in the mirror.

the same mirror where, just twelve hours before, she had watched oscar piastri fuck her brains out.

she felt heat on her hips, and didn't even need to look up to realize that it was oscars hands, gently caressing her skin through the satin. he gently kissed her shoulder blades, his hands moving to do up the zipper she couldn't quite reach.

"you look beautiful." he hummed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "you deserve better than me."

she giggled softly, tugging his arms away from her hips and around her waist, sinking back into his arms. "no i don't. you're exactly what i want, oscar. you're funny and you're sweet and you make me feel like the best version of myself. you're also really great in bed."

oscar laughed, kissing her softly. he would never get tired of feeling her lips against his. "the boyfriend stuff was never an act. and i volunteered to come with you this weekend because i wanted to get to know you off the track. who you are when you aren't serving legal papers to team principals."

"i only did that once. i missed out on the chance to fight with chip ganassi since arrow has a different legal team." she laughed. "i really like you, oscar."

"and i really like you too, y/n. my perfect, beautiful girl."

-------

the wedding came and went, marking the end of y/n and oscar's dream weekend, the reminder that very soon, they would all be going back to their real lives.

that she and oscar would need to figure out where they stood with each other.

but she didn't want to think about that. not while she was dancing with her sister, the pair of them finally getting along as they screeched the words to an old tove lo song.

oscar watched from the table, sitting next to y/n's mother and making polite conversation as his lovesick eyes found her under the disco lights.

"someone is feeling lovesick tonight." mrs. y/l/n hummed. "we heard you two last night. the motel walls aren't as thick as you think."

oscar blanched, coughing on his drink. "you heard all that?"

y/n's mom laughed. "her father had to leave the room and get a coffee before he walked in there and strangled you. y/n is always going to be his little girl. but she's growing up, and i think if she has you in her life, she'll be okay. you're good together."

oscar was about to say something else when a shout rang through the room. "delia is doing the bouquet toss!"

all of the members of each wedding party gathered in the middle of the floor, y/n's sister standing on the dj stand, her white dress brushing against the floor and picking up specs of dust and dirt, as she lifted the bouquet over her head.

y/n mother rested her hand on oscar's forearm, staring at him with a knowing look, hoping her other daughter would be the next to tie the knot.

sure enough, it was almost like fate as the boquet of white roses soared into the air, nailing y/n right in the face and tumbling into her arms as the other bridesmaids cheered. her face was pink and she was trying to hide behind the bouqet as delia came to pull her into a hug.

"i love you, sis. and i'm sorry i didn't know how to show it when we were younger." delia gushed, kissing her baby sister on the forehead before nodding her head at oscar. "you've got a good one. don't let him get away."

"i won't." she laughed, wiping at the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "i love you, deels."

the song changed, a slow kesha ballad humming through the speakers as the singer crooned about her old flame, and how they couldn't hold a candle to her current love. she turned away from her sister, who had just gone to find her new spouse to dance with, only to see oscar, looking dapper in his black suit and bowtie.

"can i have this dance, my love?"

she smiled, leaving her bouquet with her mother before stepping into oscar's arms, wishing for nothing more than to wrap herself around him like a woolen sweater. she rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to fall into him while they swayed to the music, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead as dolly parton began to sing the second half of the song.

man, she could really get used to this.

get used to oscar.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @silverstonesainz @lorarri @love4lando @thatsdemko @diorleclerc

[holybibly]

Well, bunnies, are you ready for this?

It's terribly cold in this bloody desert at night, and you regret not listening to Asa and bringing a jacket, but in your own defense, you had absolutely not intended to stay out so late.

Your plan was to see Lana perform and spend the rest of the night in the hotel, but here you are, almost on the edge of the stage, pressed against the metal barriers by a loud, excited crowd while some DJ you don't know whips all of them into a state of euphoria.

Aside from the cold, it's dark as hell in here, and you lost Asa in this dancing, half-naked mass over an hour ago. The other girls are also nowhere to be seen, and you are all alone, sticking out like a sore thumb in your baby blue dress. You probably should have left immediately after Lana's set, but the rest of your group wanted to have fun (read: fuck someone cute and preferably famous).  This brings back a certain memory from a year and a half ago about a certain group who are also performing at Coachella this year, but lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place, right?

There are thousands of people here. What are the chances?

A strong push jolts you out of your thoughts, and your body practically snuggles into the metal barriers as you feel someone's hot, large body pressed against your back, leaving almost no space between your bodies. You want to turn around and tell the stranger to get lost; this isn't the first time today guys've tried to get into your pants, but you freeze as the stranger's palms rest on the metal fences on either side of you, literally locking you in a cage between his body and the bars of the fence that dig painfully into your skin.

You tremble slightly as you feel hot breath and soft, plump lips pressing against your ear.

"That's lucky, isn't it?" That low, pornographic voice… Oh, God, you've heard it before, but goddamn it, it can't be. "Did you miss me, doll?"

[tootiecakes234]

can i request a scenario of bakugou with a chubby!s/o who's confident in her body type?

@burgvndy this is for you. Thank you so much for the inspo💕

You’d always been a plus sized girl and you loved everything about your body. The only person who loved your body more than you was the man you were in love with!

Katsuki was not the biggest fan of PDA this is true, which is probably why all the hero blogs and Stan pages thought he was so uninterested in you. They were always questioning how you got him and why he stayed around.

But they don’t know!!! No one but your close friend really know that this man is WHIPPED!

One of the first times Katsuki had seen you, you’d had on this short skirt with your thighs all bare and you nearly sent the poor man into cardiac arrest.

Your size never stopped you from wearing whatever the hell you wanted and Katsuki was attracted to that confidence too.

Every time you made the slightest move he swore you were gonna flash him and it took every ounce of willpower to keep his eyes off you.

Then you went and sat down! The way your thighs spread out on that chair. For the first time in his life, Katsuki found himself wanting to switch places with a goddamn chair…. He asked you out that same night and the two of you have been together ever since.

One night you stayed at his house and you’d forgotten to bring clothes to change into.

This man had the nerve to tell you to just throw on one of his shirts. Instead of correcting him and telling him to be so fucking fr, you went and grabbed one in of his tshirt and slid it on.

The damn thing looked like a crop top. You walked out to show him was a joke it was and the way this man laughed in your face almost made you end his life.

“You look like fucking Winnie the Pooh.” He was wheezing.

“Are you fucking done jackass?” You say as you pull the shirt over your head and drop it to the floor.

Once his giggling subsided he said “you could’ve just said they wouldn’t fit. I’ll buy some larger ones to keep here.” And he’s wiping tears from his eyes.

While you were walking around to your side of the bed he said “you look better naked anyways… hell maybe I won’t buy the shirts”

“Maybe I won’t ever sleep with a guy that get his jollies off to making fun of me” you grate out as you climb into the bed facing away from him.

His voice is right above your ear when he speaks again, “did I hurt your feelings princess?? Let me kiss it better”

He also did this thing where he’d run his fingers up and down the stretch marks on your side and stomach all the time.

When you ask him about it one day, all he says is that “it helps calm his nerves.” Whatever that means.

And don’t get started on when he fucks you. Hitting it from behind, he hands are planted on your wide hips and his favorite thing about this position is watching how your ass jiggles when he pulls you back on to him.

He also loves your soft saggy titas. Will lift those things and suck them right into his mouth happily.

Going back to that ass of yours, there’s so much surface area for him to slap and leave hand marks on. He’ll have the whole surface area stinging by the time he gets done.

Your thighs are another thing entirely.

He was nervous one night while you two were getting hot and heavy in bed. You could tell.

“Kats, baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin” and he tried to bend down and kiss you again but you stopped him.

“Talk to me or we stop.”

“You’re gonna think I’m fuckin weird. Hell I think I’m fucking weird.” He says.

You wait for him to continue.

“Iwannafuckyourthighs” it rushed out of him in one word.

“What? Slow down”

“ I. Want. To. *whispers* fuck your thighs.”

You let out and a chuckle and obviously that was the wrong thing to do because says something unintelligible and starts pulling away.

You rush and wrap your legs around his before he can get up.

“Don’t leave. I’m only laughing because we’ve done some pretty dirty stuff together, and this is what you get nervous about.”

He rolls his eyes, “well what’s your answer?” He grunts at you.

You pull him down to your and whisper against his ear. “Katsuki please fuck my thighs.. I want them all wet and sticky with your cum.”

And you feel the shivers that runs down his spine.

Katsuki loves every inch of you, he has zero complaints. He’s constantly touching you and showing you how perfect he thinks you are

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood @yoyolovesdaiki @zaiban2989

[cumikering]

Keegan Russ x reader

3.5k | fluff, second chance, childhood friends

You matched with Keegan on Tinder

@glitterypirateduck’s holiday challenge, inspired by I Don’t Do Drugs by Doja Cat

“No way.” You shook your head. “Not Keegan goddamn Russ.” You chuckled as you stared at his profile.

It had been over 15 years since you saw him last. His teeth might have been straight, bowl cut replaced by a far more fitting fade cut, but his sharp blue eyes and easy smile remained. They were unmistakable.

This dude hadn’t crossed your mind in years, but you were pleasantly surprised to see he’d grown to be a tall and athletic Marine. You hated to admit that he got hot, even that not having a stupid haircut wasn’t a very high bar to begin with.

You zeroed in on his smile again. He was attractive and he knew it. He couldn’t have been there for anything serious.

You laughed to yourself. “What the hell,” you said and swiped right on him.

At the other end of town, Keegan laid in bed, swiping mindlessly on his phone.  Left… Left… Oh!? … Yeah, another left… Until his hand froze when he saw your card.

“Goddamn,” he muttered as he rolled to his side, clutching his phone. Where the hell were you all this time?

He took his time ogling your photos. The first one was a full body picture, your figure on display in your tight jeans. The second was a selfie, your eyes bright, donning a brilliant smile and glossy lips. The last two were group photos. He loved your style – comfortable yet tasteful. Your genuine laughter and the twinkle in your eye as you sat among your friends mesmerised him.

Okay, so you were the life of the party.

Keegan often worried about not having enough to say and preferred chattier dates who’d lead the conversation. Evidently, he didn’t have to worry about that with you…  Because you probably wouldn’t even look at him twice. With looks like that, you could have anyone.

He lied on his back and gawked at your selfie again, biting his lip.

“What the hell,” he said to himself and swiped right.

He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it chimed right away. It’s a match! He gasped.

He stared at the empty chat window, fingers drumming on his thigh as he contemplated what to say. He wished he had more game.

After a minute, he settled with a simple Hi, hope you’re doing alright :) are you from the area?

You seemed a little quiet the first day of texting, but he’d expected that, a usual occurrence in his endeavour. Keegan didn’t relent, coming up with discussions, although some he had to admit were rather lame. Soon, you asked him specific questions about himself, allowing the conversation to pour throughout the days. He stopped thinking too hard when replying.

As it turned out, you were from the same hometown. You went to different high schools, but had a few mutual friends, although none he knew anymore. He barely kept in contact with anyone back home safe for the handful of his close high school friends.

Now that he reached for his phone far more often on base, grinning at that, it took no time for people to notice the newfound habit.

“We need to tell command someone’s hardly working.” Ajax nudged Kick, nodding at Keegan at the far end of the rec room. “He keeps looking at that one selfie.”

He chuckled. “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t get catfished, bro.”

“Or ghosted.” Ajax roared in laughter. He had no business sounding so proud of his pun.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed at them before looking back down at his phone. He wasn’t going to let his buddies stop him from sending you the What kind of bread are you? quiz.

At night, it’d also become a routine to text. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it grew to be the highlight of his day. He could unwind and laugh with you without having to wait long to have you text back. His bed felt less empty, a little less cold.

“I’d really like to meet you. You’re wonderful,” he said longingly at his phone.

He knew he wanted to after the third day, but didn’t initiate a date in fear of moving too fast and appalling you. But after over a week, with his next deployment inching closer, he’d grown impatient and a bit mad at himself for overthinking the matter. He didn’t remember asking anyone on a date being that unnerving.

Unprompted, your name flashed across his screen, sending his heart racing. Keegan sat up and cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey,” he said with as much smoothness as he could muster.

“Hi, Keegan.”

He could hear the smile in your voice, and he prayed he had even a fraction of the effect you had on him, on you.

“I was wondering if you’re into soccer?”

His brows furrowed. Hell no, he wasn’t at all.

“You want to watch the World Cup screening with me Saturday night?”

But for you? Well for you, he was the biggest fan in town.

“Sure,” he answered immediately. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it Christmas already?

“For dinner, there’s a taco truck I like near the sports bar, if you’d like to try.”

He tried not to smile too much, but he was failing miserably. He was two seconds away from puking out the butterflies in his stomach.

“Sounds great,” he breathed. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too.” Your easy voice calmed him.

Kick’s comment crossed his mind. He stilled for a moment and decided he didn’t care what you looked like. The little of you he got to know the past week was enough to get him hooked.

“Well, I only wanted to ask that. I’m going to bed.”

“So soon?”

You let out a small laugh. Oh, he wanted to stay on the phone all night.

“Talk to you again tomorrow, okay? Send me more quizzes.”

After you hung up, he bit down a silly grin as he pulled up your photos again.

The following night, struck with a sudden burst of confidence, Keegan called when you were both in bed. He’d expected the pauses on his end (which was why he always preferred texting), but you didn’t seem to mind. At least he knew you weren’t opposed to talking to him. You stayed on the line for half an hour, your laughter lulled his reeling mind.

Saturday couldn’t have come sooner. He’d shaved that morning and put on some cologne before taking way too long to pick an outfit. He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.

You declined his offer to pick you up. He didn’t take it personally - he was a patient man after all. But when he’d arrived a little too early, he started to lose his cool the longer he leaned on the streetlamp.

He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you walking towards him. Oh, look at the way you lit up, your smile the same brilliant one like in your photos. You were in those delightful jeans again, your hair bouncing to your steps. He straightened up and met you halfway.

“Hi,” you said when you got to him.

“Hey.” His smile didn’t waver. “You look great.”

You took the words out of his lips, the words that he already had so few of. This was the opposite of catfish because you were far prettier in real life. He needed you to hold his hand because he wasn’t going to look where he was going.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Kick and Ajax.

You looked up at him, eyes bright. “Thank you. You look nice yourself.”

He followed you to join the short queue. He stole a glance as you ordered.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the cook, giving your hand a gentle nudge when you tried to pay.

First skin contact. Innocent enough.

But why did it get so warm all of a sudden? He hoped he wasn’t sweating. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he shove them in his pockets? How close was the acceptable distance to stand next to you?

Well, he certainly stood close enough for you to catch a faint waft of his cologne.

You meant it when you said he looked good. He wore a light jacket over a black shirt, light washed jeans and sneakers. His jet black hair was styled, a little longer than in his photos. The way he stood with his hands in his pockets accentuated his build, his watch a nice touch.

Sure, curiosity got you at first. It quickly came to light that he didn’t recognise you – granted you used a nickname – but you found it amusing nonetheless. You didn’t even mean it to get that far but after talking to him, you couldn’t help but want more.

Dating was always daunting; putting your heart on the line like that rendered you vulnerable. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate – his company was delightful, but whatever you had between you felt stagnant. You thought your initial assumption was right: he wasn’t looking for anything more. Was this a mistake after all?

You sat on the bench nearby, the drinks between you. You took two bites before you stalled.

Your face twisted. “Why’s this hot?”

“Is it? Mine isn’t at all.”

“It is ridiculously hot.” You blinked the tears away.

“Can’t be. Let me try.”

You handed him the taco, instead he grabbed your wrist and leaned in for a bite.

He gave you an amused smile. “It’s not hot at all. Here, I’ll have yours.”

By now, a few drops of sweat had broken out of your forehead. You didn’t question it when he swapped the paper plates on your thighs and took a huge bite.

It wasn’t supposed to be hot! This was so uncool, at your first meeting at that. Your gaze trained on the ground as you took a small bite of his which actually tasted normal. When you looked up, it was his turn to frown.

“Wait. It is.” He put the taco down. ”It is hot.”

“I told you!”

“Oh God. Oh shit,” he hissed, scrambling for his drink. “Why is it so hot?”

You stifled a giggle. “They must have put the wrong sauce in mine, because yours tastes fine.”

“My tongue had never known such pain. What the hell is in this thing?” He continued gulping down his drink. “Oh no, it’s getting worse.” He sniffled before shoving the last half into his mouth.

“You know you don’t have to eat it, right?” You busted into laughter as he chew with all his might. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

His brows knitted, the agony in his watery eyes as clear as day. You handed him a serviette.

“That’s inhumane, but I’m a man of my word,” he said between hisses, wiping at his forehead. “My mouth is on fire. I need to inhale fire extinguisher.”

You could only offer him your drink which he gladly chugged. Still giggling, you finished your meal before making your way to the bar.

“I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing.” He grimaced through his drying tears, forehead still damp. “But at least you’re laughing. I like it when you laugh.”

You wanted to kiss him right then.

Keegan was the first man to make you willingly lose sleep in a long time, but his inaction didn’t sit right with you. Self-doubt inevitably crept up - maybe you simply weren’t his type, but you were too hooked to not at least shoot your shot despite your mounting fear of rejection. Your heart lodged in your throat when you called him that night.

Oh but his voice was so calm and soothing, and what for? He got you hanging onto every word - some straight up sounded like he was purring. Like now, he had to lean in closer and closer to talk over the noise as the bar continued to fill up. The deep rumble of his laughter so close in your ear got you biting your lip.

You didn’t want to like him so much, but here you were smiling non-stop the past hour. He’d taken his jacket off, his sturdy arms on display as he lied back. Now that was the highlight of his outfit. It didn’t help that he kept looking at you like that either; blue eyes piercing, brows striking with a cool smile.

It was unfair how effortlessly charming he was, like it was simply an unfortunate by product of being Keegan Russ, like he didn’t even mean it.

Well, evidently, Keegan was literally sweating about the humiliating incident. He sincerely hoped you wouldn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom to stand him up, but the smile hadn’t left your pretty face ever since. That was a good sign right?

Halfway into the first half, he extended his arm along the back of your seat, eyes still on the screen pretending to not notice the way your lips curled in amusement. You dragged your chair against his, thighs touching now. His fist clenched when you placed your hand on his knee.

He was secretly glad this was your first date – if he could even call it that. At least there was no pressure to keep making conversation and he could focus on your company, which he thoroughly enjoyed thus far. Was wrapping his arm around your waist an appropriate next move? He itched to be closer.

“How long have you been on Tinder?” You turned to him during halftime.

“A few months now.”

“Any luck?”

He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t get a lot of matches, and when I do - even after many weeks of talking… Well as it turned out, people just aren’t very interested in dating long distance.”

When his eyes flicked up and met your sympathetic look, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been so honest.

“You? Any luck so far?” he asked quickly.

“I went on a few dates with someone who looked an awful lot like my first crush.” You let out a small laugh. “But that’s all. It didn’t work out.”

A speck of jealousy flickered in his chest. “Tell me about him. Your first crush.”

“Well, I was a late bloomer. It was in high school, he was a sophomore when I was a freshman.”

“Handsome dude?”

“Yes, but I actually never spoke to him.” You tilted your head and smiled. “Well, I did once, kind of. I don’t know what possessed me, but one day I walked up to him and gave him a bar of chocolate. He said thanks, and that was it.”

You looked over him. The crowd had started to move towards the bar

“I’ll get us more drinks before the wait gets too long.” You stood up.

Keegan perked up; he wasn’t going to miss his chance. When you came back, he’d mustered all his courage to tug on your wrist in the direction of his parted thighs. There was a glint in your eye as you indulged and he snaked his arm behind you, hand on his knee. You had a playful smile on your lips when you moved it to your waist and wrapped your arm around his neck.

He leaned onto your shoulder, his chest pressing against your side. He watched the way your eyes transfixed on the screen, how your glass would freeze against your lower lip at times. He couldn’t help smiling when you tensed up whenever someone got close to scoring a goal. His other arm wrapped around your waist.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you when the bar erupted in cheers. You turned to him with a proud grin. Oh, your lips were just right there. He wasn’t going to survive the night.

Your favourite team won and you left the bar beaming. You were glad he offered to walk you home because you still wanted his presence. Your fingers curled around his forearm.

“I didn’t get to ask about your first crush.”

He chuckled to himself. “We were in fifth grade.”

“You ever told her?”

He shook his head. “She hated me. My friends used to tease her about her weight. I didn’t join in but I hung around anyway. I guess when you’re young you do dumb things to fall in.”

You remembered the raucous boys he hung out with.

“Over the summer, I convinced myself to finally say something, but she’d moved away.”

Had he not looked at where you were going, he’d have seen the shock on your face. Your heart skipped a beat. Is he talking about me?

“What was she like?”

“My memory’s fuzzy now, but she had two other girlfriends they teased too but she always stood up for them. Oh, was sassy too.” He smiled. “I used to stand around to overhear her jokes. If I laughed along, she’d stare me down until I left.”

You laughed, too hard for someone who supposedly wasn’t involved in the story. You remembered that too, the way prepubescent Keegan Russ and his dumb bowl cut scrambled away when you gave him bombastic side eye.

You couldn’t believe it. He had a crush on you?

“I think had I spoken up, we’d have been good friends.” He glanced at you with a smile. “You know, when I heard she’d moved away, I came home crying and my mum smacked me upside the head. Told me not to hang around with the shithead boys anymore.”

You stopped in your tracks and took your hand off his arm. “You really don’t recognise me?”

He turned to you, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You used to paste Superman stickers on my Barbie backpack.”

Keegan’s eyes widened. He turned away, a hand over his face, laughing out of pain. No fucking way. He wanted to disappear.

You chuckled. “A new one whenever I managed to peel the previous one off. Said they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t recognise you at all.” He lowered his hand. “But you don’t even have the same name?”

“It’s the internet. You’re the weird one for using your real name.”

His brows rose. “You knew it was me all along?”

“Right away.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He shook his head. “That’s just mean.”

“Was wondering if you remembered, but we were kids. I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me or forgot.”

The corner of his lips pulled. “Well, I didn’t forget.” And probably won’t. You haven’t left my mind the past week.

And that voice was back, of course. He definitely knew what he was doing, and still you couldn’t get enough.

“Wait, no. Is this it?” He frowned. “Did you talk to me the entire time- meet me just for this?”

“No! No. I wanted to see you.” The edge in his voice stung more than you expected. “I… I didn’t think you’d even want to, because you didn’t make a move.”

His cold eyes searched yours, making your heart ache. If only he knew how much he made you smile, how many times a day you wished he’d replied when you checked your phone. You never wanted to see that pain in his face again.

“Please don’t lead me on,” he finally said, his gaze softening. “Not when you know you don’t want this.”

You wanted to hold him. “I promise I won’t. I know it’s early to say, but I want to try.”

He took a small step towards you. “Are you sure you like me?”

Suddenly he was once again the young Keegan who couldn’t meet your eyes, asking if you wanted to share the last of his favourite chocolate with him.

“Are you?”

“Positive.” His icy blues were back on you. You saw the wary hopefulness in them.

You closed the gap, arms wrapping around his waist. You let out a small sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.

“May I see you again?” He pulled you closer, his voice lighter now. “I want to go on a date. A real one, with my first crush with the death stare.”

You laughed against his neck.

Keegan hated getting ahead of himself, not knowing how many more times his hopes could be shattered before the shards got to small to meet again. But as he held you, he let his mind drift, just a little further, just this time.

With his eyes closed, he thought that maybe in the future - perhaps soon enough, someone would be waiting at the base to welcome him back with a smile and an embrace just like this.

More Keegan: fake dating, werewolf AU

A/N: I think the song represents the uncertainty in the initial stages of falling, when you keep trying to swallow the hopefulness, cautious of each other’s intentions as to not get hurt. It takes bravery handing your heart over to a stranger, unsure if they’ll just stomp on your feelings or be the best thing ever.

@sofasoap @b1rds3ye @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @two-gh0sts

[elaemae]

The premium version of human is here to wreak house, mfs.

Twst x Obey me!AFAB!reader

(Reader is Ob's MC)

CW:

•NO APPEARANCE SPECIFIED FOR READER.

•Poly.

•Cursing.

•Reader is referred to as "you" or they/them and even "he/him" because NRC boys refer to any living humanoid in the school as a male by default.

•Crowley.

•It's my first time writing a fanfiction, pls tell me if I should continue writing this.

(Random pic go brr—)

What will happen when a perpetually hungry-for-cuddles and tired-of-this-shit hooman gets kidnapped by a motherfucking horse and decides (kinda? Yeah nope. This wasn't by choice.) to enroll in a school full of problematic kids and their irresponsible af headmage?

Chaos. Pure and utter chaos with a lot of high-end simping in the mix (Along with the slightly unhinged urge to commit arson and burn a bitch to crisp)

So read as [y/n] tries to run away from the school-life while trying to just get back to their goddamn harem family (God saw this thought and decided that giving y/n more harem members is the appropriate course of action), all while juggling the harsh responsibilities of being a guardian, babysitter, therapist, healer, protector, local crush and celebrity for poor Yuu and the entirety of NRC.

("Pls send help" — y/n)

• • • • •

Disclaimer: You may have been kidnapped to a whole 'nother world and you may be on the verge of a mental breakdown, but you're sure as hell gonna look hot and serve cunt while you go through all your problems.

Prologue: 1

IMPORTANT: Mc will be referred to as they/them in this story, but in these beginning chapters a lot of people will refer to mc as a dude because y'know; NRC is an ALL BOYS school and nrc students came to expect that those in the school are all boys.(this'll change dw)

In order to avoid confusion, every time that the MC is addressed by others as he/him or more; I will color it blue. why blue? I find it easier to read.

Sample; 'He turned to them.'

The "He" in this passage is referring to MC because the character referring to them thinks that they're a guy.

REMINDER: This is Fanfiction! Not everything will be the same as canon because of this thing called the 'butterfly effect'.

• • • •

The Dorm Leaders + lilia were just about to call this Opening Ceremony over.

So close to getting out of this hall and finally being able to go on their merry ways to escort the new students back to their respective dorms before the hectic-ness of preparing for hours starts to catch up to them.

Though, things are never quite that easy in NRC.

A commotion with the students quite far from them leaves the majority of them annoyed/disgruntled. (Kalim is just confused and curious)

The headmaster rushes to check what was wrong only for a student to point out that there is an unopened coffin floating in a shadowy part of the hall.

Armed with the desire to get this shit over with and to avoid embarrassment from missing a coffin when he was going around opening them and also, with Yuu waiting near the mirror, the headmaster opens the coffin to wake the new student inside.

The dorm leaders walked closer to be able to quickly usher the new student to the dark mirror only to notice that the headmaster froze up.

"...Headmaster? Are you alright?" Azul "Boutta-do-sumthin-devious" Ashengrotto asked with faux concern.

"Ah– Ah yes! I'm alright Mr. Ashengrotto."

Crowley the bitch cleared his throat and reached inside the coffin to wake the student up.

"Hmm..."

The dorm leaders subconsciously or not, peaked inside the coffin before getting gobsmacked by the sleeping student.

Sure, the student looked quite cute ("New potential apple locked in" — Vil.) even with half of his face obstructed but what really drew their attention were the jewelries that he was wearing.

Three luxurious looking earrings on each of his ears, all unique from each other, all with a respective color and design except for that one earring with two gemstones engraved in it, orange and indigo. Seven gems, six earrings

An ornament on his forehead that looks to be a combination of a circlet and a Ferronnière made from gold, with intricate black bat-like wings surrounding the red gemstone in the middle.

And that's just the jewelry on his head.

There's also the sleek black choker with a golden sheen on his neck with a teal gemstone surrounded by small diamonds hanging in the middle.

They don't know if this guy has anymore but the jewels they can see for now is more than enough for them to make the deduction that this student has some alot of money on his hands.

No wonder the Headmaster froze up.

Azul subconsciously starts fixing up his appearance when he starts to wake up, wanting to make a good impression on a potential, rich victim client.

• • • •

"Mmh... What the hell.. Why is the bed so hard.."

You mumbled as you stirred, feeling someone lightly shaking you awake.

You opened your eyes, expecting maybe the brothers, solomon, dia, barbs, simeon or luke but you were instead met with a face obscured by a dark bird mask.

"..."

"..."

"You have two seconds to unhand me before you lose your hands." or your life. Depends on who I can summon first.

You made your voice as cold and unwelcoming as possible as the man with the bird mask squawked and backed away a bit in shock.

"H– How rude..! I'll have you know that I was only–"

"Where am I?"

You cut off the weird looking bird-man as you scanned your surroundings and moved to come out of the coffin why were you in a coffin? you were in, in fear of it closing and locking you inside.

You glance warily to the bird-man while keeping an eye on the huge number of robed individuals that you can see. are you in a cult? Damnit, did one of the Brothers' crazy cults decide to kidnap you out of jealousy again??

Especially the seven (reminder that lilia is there with the Housewardens) closest to you and bird-dude.

Some solomon-kinnie motherfucker is currently eyeing you down like he's about to sell your kidneys to the black market or something.. Hmm... Your fight or flight instincts are telling you to sell HIS kidneys instead.

*Ehem*

Burd-dude cleared his throat and addresses you.

"It seems that the teleportation magic has left you disoriented... No matter, I can forgive your offense of trying to threaten me for I am gracious!"

He then looked weirdly like a combination of preening peacock and a proud chicken.

"I repeat. Where in the unholy trinity of the three realms, am I?"

Now that raised a few eyebrows.

You feel for the necklace under your clothes that Thirteen gave you, filing the question of why you're also wearing the same robe as these people away, in your head.

While the guy that you now dub-thee as "bird-bitch" started gawking at you and going on a tangent of being disrespectful, you scan the big hall/room you're in looking for ways to escape.

• • • •

Hmm... This new student seems to be a knowledgeable individual.

Lilia kept his gaze on the student, studying how he took on a defensive stance the moment he got out of the coffin.

They need to calm this student quickly before something happens.

The student seems to be confused on why he's here and is looking for a way to get out.

If the way his eyes moved around the room in quick succession is any indicator.

Not the first time that something like this happens but add in the magicless student's appearance, he gets the feeling that something strange will happen once again.

Seeing him take out and grasp the palm-sized gemstone of a whole 'nother necklace hidden under his robe how many trinkets does this boy have??, Lilia got ready to jump in the fray should something happen.

There's a possibility that the student can use that necklace as a weapon if that was what he chose to hold in this situation and not his other shiny ornaments.

Lilia was proven right when the necklace and the gemstone glowed and formed into a fancy-looking staff that the student quickly pointed towards Crowley.

He looked at the dorm leaders around him to see if any of them will do something.

...

yeah no. If anything, they look like they're watching an amusing show. Especially Schoenheit and Kingscholar..

Though it seems more like Riddle is still assessing the situation before he brings out his infamous collar.

Haahh.. Youngsters these days..

Chapter list | → PROLOGUE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

Elae: Sorry if my grammar is off, English isn't my first language.

Btw, Thanks for reading this far! Hope you enjoyed it😊

Srry if my format is also off, I've only been using tumblr for a few days now...

MOST IMPORTANTLY; Should I continue reading this fanfic? I wanna know if people still read Obey mexTwst stories here...

[metalhoops]

// Read Part 1 Here // Read Part 2 Here //

“Can you believe that bullshit, Stevie?” Eddie questioned, from his spot in Steve’s lap. 

The two were together on the Munsons’ beaten-up couch. Steve’s day had dragged on like bare feet in river mud. As far as he could gather, Eddie’s had been the same. The room was hot with the ghost of summer, despite it being mid-March. Eddie’s hair between Steve’s fingers was soft and fizzed. 

“Can I believe that Lucas refused to ditch the championship game for your fantasy club, that could be rescheduled? Yeah,” Steve paraphrased, feeling Eddie sit slightly as he craned his head to get a better look at Steve.

“You’re on his side, aren’t you?” Eddie mumbled, discontent clear in his voice. Steve didn’t like it. He hummed and leaned down to place a chased kiss on Eddie’s lips. 

“You’re not meant to be on his side,” Eddie grumbled, laying back down. 

It was rare that the two disagreed. The disagreement had to be big enough to get a rise out of Steve, but if the situation called for it, he’d put his foot down. 

“It’s a big deal for him,” Steve reasoned, watching Eddie’s jaw clench. 

He’d gotten to know the boy well enough over the past few months. He knew what would come next. If he didn’t act soon, he’d have to sit through a monologue on the sanctity of the game and Lucas’ betrayal at having chosen sports over his friends. Steve didn’t mind the rants. He liked that Eddie was passionate. He did, but Eddie was right. Steve was on Lucas’ side. 

“I know this is a big deal for you, too. Getting to the end of the game or whatever, but can’t you just do it another day? It’d mean the world to the kid,” Steve reasoned. 

He knew by the rounding of Eddie’s shoulders and the elongated groan that escaped his lips that he’d won. 

“Fine, I’ll postpone a week, but you owe me big time. Next date you’re paying.” 

Steve didn’t argue. Hell, he liked paying for Eddie. The guy normally wouldn’t have a bar of it. 

“Wipe that smug smile off your face, Harrington. I get to pick what we do. I’m going to drag you to the loudest concert this side of the Mississippi the first chance I get.” 

Steve nodded, twisting Eddie’s fraying curl between his fingertips.

“In the meantime, I was thinking of heading to the game,” Steve proposed. 

Eddie groaned. He knew Steve too well. He knew what was coming next. 

“You’re going to drag my ass to the basketball game, aren’t you?” 

Eddie sat, switching to the far side of the couch to show his displeasure at the idea. However, he threw his feet in Steve’s lap, so he knew they were okay. 

He thought they were okay. 

“Lucas will want you to be there.”

“You know we can’t actually go together without people talking,” Eddie noted as Steve drove his thumb into the heel of the boy’s foot absentmindedly. 

“I don’t care,” Steve stated. 

He meant it. He’d given up on trying to be Hawkins’ golden boy years before. He just wanted to be the type of person he could live with. 

“Maybe I do,” Eddie spoke, stopping Steve cold. 

Steve worried. He always goddamn worried. Yes, he was waiting for the day he lost someone he cared about to the hell dimension, but it was more than that. He also worried about mundane stuff, like Eddie waking up and deciding they were bullshit. He’d been so sure he and Nancy were in love up until the second she told him they weren’t. That was a blow he wasn’t sure he’d ever heal from. 

He must have gone too quiet, sat stock, still in the growing silence. Eddie sat up and tugged at the hem of Steve’s shirt until he lay down beside him. The two were crushed uncomfortably close, side by side. Eddie’s knee was tucked between Steve’s legs. Eddie touched Steve’s face. It was something only he could get away with. If it were anyone else, he would hate it. 

“Not what I meant,” Eddie spoke, implicitly knowing where Steve’s train of thought had headed. 

“I just meant, I care because I know if any dick head in town had enough brain cells to put two and two together, we’d be screwed,” Eddie began, taking a deep breath. Steve settled back, bracing himself for the monologue. 

“Your parents would kick you out. Then the town would try to run me out with pitchforks. I’m not saying we’ll never... you know. I’m just saying we’ve gotta be smart about it. When I’m done with high school and we save up enough money to have an escape plan for when things go to shit, then we can toss around the idea of going to stupid basketball games together.” Steve sighed but nodded, understanding Eddie’s point of view.

Sometimes Steve got sick of being cautious. He got sick of waiting for other people to change their minds about something that didn’t have anything to do with them. He’d had some good goddamn sense knocked into him. He wished someone would do the same for everyone else. 

“We can hang out after the game. I’ve got something to do first, but I’ll swing around your place after ten.” Eddie proposed. 

Steve didn’t ask what Eddie was doing. If Eddie wanted him to know, he would’ve told him, and despite Steve’s many hang-ups, he trusted Eddie as much as he could trust anyone. 

“Ten works,” Steve agreed. 

The afternoon faded. Steve left Eddie to go to the game. He watched with his gaggle of kids by his side, glancing down at Robin in the marching band when her high school crush took to the stage with a shit-eating grin. He wanted to be there with Eddie, but this was a good consolation. He was sure he’d have bruises on his side by morning from Dustin constantly elbowing him in the side every time Lucas got the ball.

He was so damn proud of Lucas for scoring the winning point. Though Steve would admit, he’d have been proud of the kid if they’d lost by a mile. He was learning what love was about, love without contingencies. Eddie, Robin and the kids were teaching him the lessons he’d never picked up from his parents. 

He got back to his place around nine, took a shower and switched on a mindless T.V. re-run to fill the silence while he waited for Eddie. He was two episodes deep when he felt the familiar sensation of dread begin to well in the pit of his stomach. 

Eddie was two hours late when Steve’s worry shifted to full-blown panic. He tried to tell himself everything was fine, that Eddie got caught up and he’d walk through the door any minute. He picked up his bat from beneath his bed and paced the halls like an animal in an enclosure. 

It was three in the morning when Steve resigned himself to the fact that Eddie wasn’t coming. He called the Munsons at the god-awful hour of the night, hoping beyond hope that Eddie would pick up. He’d be pissed off at Steve for waking him up, but then he’d let him know what was going on. 

He didn’t answer. 

Maybe Steve had read things wrong. Maybe he and Eddie had a fight. They were fighting. That’s why Eddie hadn’t shown up.

He lay in bed until the light of morning thawed his bones and set him free from his wide-eyed, paralytic state of unrest. Instead of heading to work, he drove to the trailer park, swerving the Beamer off the dirt track as the blue lights painted the horizon. There was a swarm of cop cars parked outside Eddie’s trailer. Steve’s body moved of its own accord, rushing through the swarm of cops to find Wayne Munson smoking at the picnic benches, a nearly imperceptible tremor to his fingers. 

Steve didn’t ask what happened. Not right away. His mind was full of worst-case scenarios, none of which could be true until they were spoken into existence. For now, everything was unknown. For now, there was a chance Eddie was safe. He let his legs buckle beneath him as he sat beside Wayne, wondering when he’d made a habit of having panic attacks with Munson men near picnic benches. 

“Was Eddie with you last night?” Wayne asked between drags of the cigarette. 

Steve shook his head. 

Eddie had told Wayne about them. Steve had sat across the breakfast table from the man half a dozen times, but they’d never really talked without Eddie in the room. 

“Was he meant to be?” With a defeated sigh, Steve nodded. 

“What happened?” He asked, at last, tired of drawing out the inevitable. 

“I came home from my shift and there was a body.” All the colour fell from Steve’s face. 

“Not Eddie’s. Some girl. Cops are sayin’ they think he killed her. I reckon we both know that ain’t true.” Steve didn’t know what to do with that information. Eddie was alive. 

He listened to Wayne describe the scene with a growing feeling of dread. He’d seen enough of the Upside Down to understand that an eyeless girl, broken and bent like a marionette puppet and a missing boy seemed like part of its M.O. He was late for work. 

He needed to let Robin and the kids know what was going on. He skirted past the police and drove to the video store. His body was working on autopilot. To his surprise, Dustin and Max were already there. 

He watched as a disgruntled Robin tried to shoo them from behind the register. Steve cleared his throat, hoping beyond hope that the kids didn’t notice the red rim of his eyes as he placed his hands on his hips. 

“What the hell are you two doing? Shouldn’t you be at school?” He tried to play it off like it was any other day, as though he was fine. Robin’s watchful eyes let him know she saw right through him. 

“We’re looking for places Eddie could hide.” Dustin breathed, stopping Steve in his tracks. He shut up and let them explain. 

“We were thinking he could be at Reefer Rick’s place,” Max supplied after Dustin finished his tangent. Steve remained uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Alright, well, quick. Get your shit, if we’re doing this.” Steve grumbled, sliding off his video store vest and leaving it on the counter. Eddie wasn’t dead. That was something.

“That’s great and all, Steve, but we still don’t know where the hell we’re going,” Dustin argued at Steve’s heels as the four rushed out into the parking lot. 

“I know where he lives,” Steve supplied, catching the disbelieving look shared between Max and Dustin. He hadn’t told the kids about him and Eddie. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was complicated. Everything about him and Eddie felt complicated. He didn’t want them to be a secret, but it was a necessity to keep them both safe, to keep Eddie safe. He’d told Robin because he knew she was safe. She was an extension of himself. He couldn’t not tell Robin, but the rest of the party was still in the dark. 

“I didn’t think you did drugs, Steve,” Dustin spoke sceptically as they piled into the car. 

“I don’t do drugs... Put on your seatbelt, Henderson.” 

“Then why do you know where a notorious drug dealer lives?” Dustin pushed. 

“Seriously, kid. I’m not backing out until you’re buckled in,” Steve warned. Now was not the time to get a D.A.R.E. presentation. 

“Steve, should I be worried?” Dustin asked as Max spoke up,

“Of course he does drugs. He’s at Eddie’s place all the time.” 

Both Steve and Robin turned back to look at the girl with wide eyes. Of course, Steve should’ve realised Max saw his BMW parked outside the Munsons’ trailer. He hadn’t been thinking. 

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything because we’re all going through shit,” Max elaborated as Dustin shot her a look of utter betrayal. 

“I didn’t think you guys were... friendly. I didn’t think you liked him,” Dustin gaped, finally buckling up. 

Steve tried to drive carefully, keeping his eyes on the road and the car under the speed limit, only sometimes succeeding. 

“What makes you think I don’t like Eddie?” Steve asked, trying to keep his mind off the very real potential that Eddie had just been dragged into the world he’d never wanted him to be a part of. 

Eddie kept trying to push for answers about what happened to Steve. He kept promising he’d give them to him when the time was right, but he could never bring himself to do it. Sometimes the best thing was to remain ignorant. All the same, Steve couldn’t lie to him either, so they’d remained in limbo. 

“You always drop me off at Hellfire, but you never say ‘hi’ to the guy." 

“I wave at him,” Steve reasoned. 

“From the car, Steve. It’s antisocial.” 

It wasn’t long before the group pulled up outside of Rick’s. Steve knew where Eddie would hide if he were there. He led the group to the boathouse, searching the place for any sign of the boy. That led to Steve blindly poking around in the dark with an ore and an odd sense of hope. All of which was thrown out the window the second a body sprung up from the darkness to shove him against a wall. 

It happened too quickly for Steve to process. There was a weight holding him in place and a sharp pressure at his throat. It wasn’t until Dustin’s calls that Steve made out Eddie’s body in the dim light. 

“Woah, Eddie. It’s me. It’s Dustin,” the kid called from behind them. 

The rest of the world fell away as he met Eddie’s wide, panicked eyes. He was safe. Scared as hell, but safe. The broken bottle Eddie held at his throat dropped from his hand in an instant, as did the ore from Steve’s grasp. 

“It’s Steve, Eddie.” 

Recognition flashed across Eddie’s face and suddenly Steve was being crushed again, this time under the weight of Eddie’s arms. The boy clung onto Steve as a drowning man would cling to driftwood. He buried his face into the nape of Steve’s neck and inhaled deeply. Steve could feel Eddie’s heart pounding against his chest. He snaked a hand around to hold the back of Eddie’s neck, forcing the boy to look at him. 

“Hey. You’re okay. Just breathe with me for a second, alright?” Steve spoke, echoing Eddie’s words from the first night the two had gotten together. He watched as the rapid rise and fall of Eddie’s chest slowed. 

“That’s it,” Steve soothed. 

“Stevie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. 

“M’sorry I didn’t... I couldn’t go to your place, Steve. I wanted to,” Eddie continued, his hand having moved to grasp the fabric of Steve’s shirt. 

“I didn’t... I didn’t know if it’d follow me. I don’t know what the hell happened, I... you won’t believe me,” He finished at last, resting his forehead against Steve’s. 

It was slick with sweat but Steve didn’t care. The others in the room had fallen away entirely. There was only Eddie. 

“I think I should probably talk to you about that thing we keep meaning to talk about,” Steve breathed, drawing circles in Eddie’s skin. 

“Why now?” The boy asked, disbelievingly, a hysterical laugh slipping from his lips.

“Because no matter how crazy what you’re going to tell me sounds, I believe you.” 

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you two hated each other,” Dustin called, shattering the moment between them. 

They pulled apart, though Eddie still kept his hand laced in Steve’s shirt while his hand migrated to the middle of Eddie’s back. 

“Why would I hate my boyfriend?” Eddie breathed, clearly not thinking, hopped up on adrenaline. 

“You’re what?” Dustin spoke, gawking open-mouthed at the boys. 

Steve inhaled deeply, squeezed Eddie’s hip and levelled Dustin with his best, unimpressed glare, practically daring him to push on. 

“That makes more sense,” Max muttered to herself as Dustin’s eyes continued to flicker between the two. 

“Shut your mouth, Henderson. You’ll catch flies. We’ve got more pressing issues here,” Steve muttered, trying to work out how exactly he could explain everything to Eddie. 

“I thought you were secretly dating Robin, not Eddie. What the hell, man? Neither of you told me,” Dustin pushed forward while Robin snorted, her nose scrunching at the idea. 

“Really not the time, Henderson,” Eddie confirmed, his fingers worrying away at Steve’s shirt. 

“That’s not fair. You’re not meant to be on his side, dude,” Dustin remarked. 

“Can we all just focus for two seconds? Eddie, what happened last night at your trailer?” Steve questioned, somehow managing to wrangle the group back to the task at hand. 

Steve knew by Eddie’s deep breath and trembling fingers what he was about to say. The world Steve had tried to protect the boy from had come to find him anyway. Now all Steve would do was be there to hold his hand as they walked through whatever hell the Upside Down had to offer.

Steve would keep him safe. Steve would always keep Eddie safe, no matter what.  

[tired-biscuit]

in your sleep, my yearning awakens

18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepbrother!bakugou, dark content // cw: noncon, somnophilia, stepcest, alcohol.

wc: 2.5k+

↳ this is a repost from my sideblog because i realized i'm far too lazy to run two blogs at the same time and it just makes me super stressed. i'm going to be posting dark content on my main from now on. so this is a heads up of sorts!!

this piece is also my (very late) submission for @killsaki's family ties collab.

———

you make the mistake of wearing a silky little nightgown to bed on a particularly hot summer night, and end up being found by your very drunk, very inconsiderate stepbrother bakugou.

when he returns home from the bar, he finds you soundly asleep in his bed; with the covers kicked off and with your cheek buried in the pillow that smells almost overbearingly sweet, just like him.

your body is nearly naked, it makes his gaze linger on places an older brother’s eyes should never. but alas, even if he did try to get a grip on himself and not stare at his little stepsister like a wolf stares at potential prey, bakugou is shit-faced to the gods and is sort of getting horny because of it, too.

there’s an intoxicating warmth travelling through his veins, a certain one that tints his cheeks a light pink, makes his eyelids heavy and that’s outright impeccable when it comes to blurring the already thin line of what’s wrong and what’s right.

but can merely looking even be considered as the wrong thing? after all, it’s not like he’s touching you or anything. it’s not like he’s exactly violating your privacy, when you were the one who had slipped into his room in the first place and had clambered into his bed. it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

he’s just looking. yeah.

and how can he possibly resist from doing so? it’s late, your parents are soundly asleep, and you just look so goddamn cute while laying on your stomach like that; with the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder and exposing more of your tit, with your ass peering out from underneath the hem that’s now practically risen up to your waist, and with the outline of your plump little pussy visible in your pale pink panties. you just look so innocent. so unsuspecting.

so vulnerable.

so he says fuck it. he continues to leer.

and the wolf continues to circle.

however, as minutes pass with your calm breathing filling the silence the entire time, bakugou finds himself feeling somewhat unsatisfied while standing next to the door, holding his worsening balance by leaning against the doorframe.

sure, the rhythmic way your shoulders rise and fall with every inhale and exhale is entertaining to watch. and the way you occasionally sigh and rub your thighs together before burrowing your cheek even deeper into the pillow, his pillow, does succeed at melting his heart, even if he swears up and down that his is made of stone. hell, he’s a clean freak, but even the thin trail of gleaming saliva that now dribbles past the corner of your mouth and soaks the bedding in a little puddle of spit is kind of adorable.

but it’s not nearly enough.

because bakugou, well, he wants to actually feel the rise and fall of your shoulders kiss the tips of his fingers as he hovers his hand merely an inch above your spine and holds it there. he wants to experience the warmth and softness of your plush thighs as they contrast the callouses and roughness of his palm when he slips it between your legs and explores the space there for a little bit.

he wants his cock to be the reason as to why you’re pushing your cheek into the pillow; trying so desperately to quiet down your whiny little sobs that he’d pull out of you with ever push and pull. he wants to make you drool from how fucked out you’d become as he at long last has his way with you, and not because you’re sleeping, probably dreaming about something as silly as soft marshmallows and vibrant rainbows.

he just wants, and wants, and wants. he wants the bad things that would make him feel good. over the years, he has always been holding back, has always been in search of a good enough reason not to do it, has always acted ignorant towards all that gushing that you tend to do over ‘your big ol’ brother’, with those stupidly big heart eyes that he just can’t stop thinking about the moment his head lands on the pillow and his gaze glues itself to the ceiling.

and now is his chance to not just want, but also to have. it’s the optimal setting for it, actually.

all there’s left to do, is to act.

so he closes the door shut with a soft click. locks it. walks those couple of steps that take him to close the distance between you. he sinks one knee into the mattress, then the other, until he’s so close to your sleeping form that he can smell the faintest whiff of your fruity shower gel.

“fuck me,” he breathes silently, jaw locking shut because of the nerves. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“keep going,” his inner voice says. the one that actually manages to persuade when he’s under the influence. “she’s right there.”

so he takes a good look at you, then. how your eyelashes flutter with sleep and how the bridge of your nose scrunches because of your dreams. he listens to your steady breathing that’s far from panicked — for now, that is. how you softly murmur pure gibberish from time to time. it’s all so sweet.

just like you must be. oh, if he could just get a taste… a single lick…

bakugou has never considered himself to be a pussy, but nearly fiften minutes pass before he at long last stops stalling and grows the balls to seal his fate once and for all. but brave or not, cold sweat still washes over him as he raises his arm and drags his palm between your shoulder blades; fingers as light as a feather as they follow the length of your spine over the silk.

goddammit, he thinks. i’m actually gonna follow through with this fuckin’ shit, huh?

if he were sober, he’d never; he’s well aware of that. despite the anger issues and the short fuse that lead to impulsive decisions, bakugou katsuki has always been in complete control of his actions, surroundings, desires, wishes, yearning, body, spirit, mind, even his goddamn soul. he’s been in control of everything.

but the leash is not so tight anymore, when liquor comes into play, now is it? no, instead it causes the rope to dangle rather loosely around his neck as he sits next to his poor, naive little sister whilst she sleeps in his bed, looking as cute as a button despite the slutty nightgown. it sets him free to devour her whole.

you twitch at the sudden contact he initiates and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position. staring with wide eyes and even wider pupils, katsuki doesn’t miss the way your hips wiggle with the movement. the way your toes curl before relaxing once more.

so… cute.

he waits for you to settle again, almost forgetting to breathe as the long seconds pass one after the other. his heart is beating so fast the entire time. it makes him feel nauseous with adrenaline as it pounds inside his wide ribcage. even his throat has turned scratchy and dry.

he’s never felt this nervous, not even while out there, on the field.

when you finally stop squirming around, it takes him a long moment to dare to reach out again. but he does, of course he does. you’re just too inviting to resist. and this time, he’s even courageous enough to let his rough fingers travel up your leg instead.

he starts at the ankle, goes up to your calf, the back of your knee, your thigh. until he’s just an inch below the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours is hiding away from him.

the particular spot is so warm. bakugou sharply inhales through his nose and exhales through lips that can’t help but slightly quiver as he curls one finger and watches your eyebrows knit together. you’re still asleep, even as he starts to carefully stroke you down there, dragging a single knuckle up and down your clothed pussy, drawing out the slit.

your breathing pattern changes as he continues with his immoral ministrations. up and down, up and down, up and down. by the time he circles your clit and nudges between your lips to add the slightest amount of pressure to it, you start to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.

there’s a smile forcing itself onto bakugou’s face, now.

you want it.

and sure, while you might not have exactly said that you want it out loud, the way your body reacts to him still speaks for itself.

after all, you’re already getting so wet that your cutesy little panties are turning damp and sticky with arousal. gently prodding at your hole now while massaging your clit through the thin cotton with the help of his thumb, katsuki briefly wonders if anyone has ever touched you like this before. that, or maybe your cunt is fucking drooling simply because it’s the first time it’s experiencing a stimulation from a hand that isn’t your own.

yes, he knows that you’ve touched yourself before. he’s heard a little moan and a certain kind of buzzing through the paper thin wall once or twice since his mom had married your dad and had forced you all to live together as a ‘family’, even if the term is complete and utter bullshit from his point of view. but not because he was listening in or anything. definitely not.

but never mind that. this whole situation is so perfect; you’re just so perfect. his cock is hard at the sight and the feel of you, even if he can’t feel his feet quite right from how much he’s drank. it’s stubbornly pressing against the zipper of his jeans, getting bigger with the rush of blood that’s being pumped into it, wanting out so bad. pre-cum is literally leaking out the tip.

maybe he could pull it out just for a quick second to give it a stroke or two; just to ease the pressure that is making his skin feel way too tight. or perhaps he could carefully take your hand and wrap your dainty little fingers around the girth… pretend that you did it by your own free will as he fucks your fist and…

“mmh… katsuki?”

however, as perfect as everything is, the illusion comes crashing down from the way you’re kind of messing it up, now. groaning in sleepy puzzlement and trying to push him away as you start to wake at the sudden touches to land upon the lower half of your body, you’re ruining his moment by refusing him on instinct.

he tries not to take offense by it. but it still hurts as he pulls his hand away before you can notice.

“what,” he says.

“hey,” you mumble, slumber turning your tongue all too heavy inside your mouth. you just look so dazed, and he catches himself wanting to slap the stupid expression right off of your pretty face all of a sudden. i mean, how dare you ruin this for him?

“what’s going on…?” you ask.

“shh. keep quiet, kid. nothing’s goin’ on,” he drawls as a displeased frown forms at the sight of your sleep-riddled eyes connecting with his own. he thought that he’d have more time to at least pull your panties to the side and actually see your cunt, but now that you’re conscious, he has to act his role of the responsible big brother yet again.

what a fucking bummer.

“you just fell asleep in my bed,” he dully explains. “relax.”

“oh,” you say, and from the way how you avert your eyes away from him now, he can tell that you’re embarrassed. “i must have dozed off. i guess.”

the truth is that you missed him. but it’s not like you’ll ever admit it.

he just stares at you, cleverly hiding both his boner and disappointment as you jut your bottom lip out and sit up, still avoiding eye contact. he can tell that you’re hot and bothered, even more so that you’re confused by the reason as to why. the way there’s heat lazily swirling in your belly and how your panties must be clinging to your pussy right now has surely got to be infuriating.

god, if he could just—

“sorry, i’ll, uh—” realization of your disheveled appearance settles within you, and you rush to fix the strap and the hem of your nightgown until you’re at least partially decent once more. rubbing your neck sheepishly, you finish what you were going to say with a tight little chuckle, “i’ll be going back to my room, now.”

“not so fast,” he says, and now his hand presses against your chest without a second — rational — thought. before you can even utter a word of protest, he’s pushing you right back onto the mattress. it’s quite forceful, really. but he’s always been a tough guy like that, you suppose.

he manhandles you into the spooning position and his arm is almost uncomfortably heavy as he drapes it around your middle the moment and pulls you close and locks you in. the sigh that leaves his lips is warm and smells like booze as it tickles the top of your cheek. your limbs intertwine, but he makes sure that his hips are nowhere near yours; at least not until his dick settles the fuck down.

“katsuki?” you repeat in a whisper, growing confusion lacing your already unsure tone for a second time. he’s usually never this clingy, but to be fair, he’s usually never this drunk either.

“you can stay, or whatever,” he murmurs in reply, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s so close that his face is literally hiding in the crook of your neck. it only causes the heat in the pit of your stomach to worsen. especially as he whispers into your skin, “just stop actin’ so fuckin’ weird already and do that thing i like, yeah?”

you blink. stiffen. “what thing?”

“with the hair.”

“oh... yeah, all right.” you pause as relief washes over you. you don’t know what you’ve been expecting, but his request resonates well with you. “but i thought that you didn’t like it when i touched your hair?”

bakugou grins. it’s more feral and predatory than it is friendly, but it’s too dark for you to notice, and besides, you’re not facing him anyway.

he ignores your question, and instead replies with a simple, “attagirl. get to it, then.”

you try to ignore how the praise makes you feel and instead just do what he demands of you.

as your fingers start to comb through his ash blonde hair in calming, obedient strokes; katsuki realizes he’s safe. having slept through the entire thing, you don’t have a single clue of what just happened. of what he did. of what line he’d crossed.

and maybe, just maybe if he’s lucky enough, you’ll remain clueless even as he has a bit more fun with you the moment you fall asleep again.

for the night is still long, and its shadows bring so many opportunities to light.

[allyricas]

I love gay Eddie and bisexual awakening Steve. It's solid and popular for a reason. It works, makes a lot of sense.

But...I also love flirty-cluelessly-queer Eddie and comfortable-with-his sexuality Steve.

Eddie does flirt. With everyone. It was pretty clear he was flirting with Chrissy. He was flirting with Steve. Calling him big boy and getting up in his personal space, being all cutesy.

So, imagine Eddie just casually flirting with Steve and it doesn't mean anything to him. He's just being Eddie. He isn't even aware that it's flirting. He really considers it teasing. The man is dramatic and silly. He loves to make a scene. So "teasing" people is fun for him.

Eddie who is a super senior running a DnD club for outcasts, loves Lord of the Rings, plays in a metal band. I think Eddie is always into some sort of hyperfixation to be trying to bang chicks or dudes.

There was totally a phase were he was obsessed with folk and old country music (Woody Guthrie much). There was the Jane Austen phase (It fits, c'mon). The time he tried to learn to crochet. His lasting phase with fantasy novels. His intense love of metal music. He knows a lot about music in general. Obscure shit. Oh, those handcuffs-definitely from his magic phase. Tell me, 12 year old Eddie didn't want to be a magician. He probably did card tricks, the whole deal.

Eddie would be the kind of guy who'd spout all sorts of random knowledge. He probably has one specific time period in history he could rant about for hours.

The man has raging ADHD (takes one to know one). He's a self-professed nerd and outcast. The only thing that might be considered "cool" is that he plays in his band. But even then, he's a total nerd about it.

Eddie is hot as hell. That is undeniable. But Eddie has been too damn busy being a fucking nerd to date or hook up. I think he's so focused on his interests, it could easily not have been on his radar. Same way he's failed senior year twice in a row despite being smart as hell. The shit they are trying to teach doesn't interest him and that makes Eddie fucking struggle.

He's bouncy and hyperactive. He probably has terrible tunnel vision when he gets into a book or movie or campaign. Dating has thus far not been interesting enough especially combined with how he's treated by the people in Hawkins.

So, yeah- he flirts and teases. He thinks it's harmless fun. With Chrissy, it was a way to make her feel safe and lighten the mood. With Steve, it's a way to disarm him. It's King Steve afterall. Why not play up the metalhead freak persona. Let him think he's weird.

It isn't until Steve starts flirting back and gives Eddie butterflies that Eddie realizes this is not heterosexual behavior. And he knows a lot about that because he was accidentally flagging for a whole goddamn year. Because he wanted to look metal as fuck and thought the bandana was badass.

Steve calls Eddie princess. Calls him pretty boy. Throws in a babe. Everytime Eddie refers to him as big boy or Stevie, Steve just smirks and comes up with a new pet name that wrecks Eddie (who has no idea what is fucking going on). Throw in the boys getting high together with no inhibitions and Steve actively trying to romance him and Eddie's in a full blown sexuality crisis.

best part: Steve thinks Eddie is gay because of the bandana that he wore all year. Add in all the flirting and then Steve's really putting the moves on totally clueless Eddie. And say what you want about Steve, but he has game. I can just imagine Eddie trying to frantically figure out why all of the sudden he wants to make out with Steve "the hair" Harrington and Steve's like...aren't you gay?

(if anyone knows of steddie fics anything like this, please rec them!)

[naneun-no]

From my drafts so it’s late but:

Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.

🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY

You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣

I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.

So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:

1. “How we left and right is something we control” — a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.

2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”

Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.

3. Okay the real meaty part:

Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here

[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]

First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”

Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?

Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.

On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.

Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.

Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!

4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.

5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣

6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?

Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.

Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.

✌️

[urm0o0m]

"You Belong To Me"

Synopsis: You were in a cult. A cult that was led by Geto Suguru. Although some people wanted to leave and others just lived, you were die-hard. You’d do anything this man said. If he told you to jump, you’d jump and touch the clouds. Suguru noticed this and decided to reward your “good behavior” as you were also at the age where you had to get married and bear children.

Content Warning: Cult ideations, Impact play/slapping, fingering, riding, sorta brain rot, edging, Virgin reader!, begging, praise, degradation, crying, marking 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ

You suck in a deep breath of air, trying to steady your hands. You stood there, in front of these two big wooden doors dressed in a version of Oiran attire. White face make-up, extravagant hairdo and accessories and your best kimono paired with the wooden sandals that boost your height. You push open the door to see your leader, Geto sitting on the ground on top of a mat. You walk into the room, the door closing behind you. You bow your head, sitting down opposite to him.

“y/n” Suguru says and your face grows hot. “Yes My Lord?” A smirk plasters itself on his face. “So you’re at the age where it’s time for you to marry and bear children for the sake of our beliefs” You swallow and a frown makes its way onto your face before returning to a smile. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone, let alone give birth to children. “I suppose so My Lord” Geto smiles at you before saying “We will be sure to find you a suitable mate” Your face cringes at the sound of being married.

“What’s the matter y/n?” Suguru asks. “Nothing My Lord” You say, head hanging low. Geto’s hand reaches for your chin before pulling your head up, his eyes locking with yours. “Do you not wish to be married? Did you not vow to give your everything including your body when you became a part of this family? Didn’t you?” You swallow again before nodding. “Is it that you believe you are too good for any of the men here? That you-” “N-no My Lord I would never-” His hand grips your jaw. 

“Do not speak out of turn again.” You nod. “I bet you believe that your body is a temple and that it belongs to you and you only. But I hate to break it to you but your body belongs to me. Am I understood?” You nod. “Speak” “Y-yes My Lord!” Suguru rises and helps you stand as well. You stand before him and you feel your kimonos bow being loosened, the clothing falling to the ground. Geto takes his clothes off and you finally realize how goddamn sexy this man is. 

Your eyes begin trailing down his body and you finally see his hard-on. You almost begin drooling at the sight of his cock. You haven’t seen a guy's penis before but you know that his size is not average. Geto looks like his erection would split you in two if he put it in. Hell, you don’t even think it would fit. Geto grabs your hand, guiding your naked body to the futon that resides on the floor. The raven-haired male lays you down, his lips finding yours.

 As you both kiss, tongues dancing a sinful dance, his hands begin to roam your body, fingers dancing upon your skin before they reach your thighs. Your thighs finally part, allowing him to reach your core. “God y/n. Your fucking soaked” You blush, looking away. “I’m going to treat you properly. I might even make you my wife for your obedient behavior” Those words go straight to your cunt. Now you have to show off and do your best for him. You wanted to be his wife after all. 

You were the only person who you thought really deserved him. But if he didn’t feel the same and married you off to someone else, you’d do it. You’d bear your husband's children. All for the sake of your esteemed leader. Before you realize it Geto’s finger slip inside of you, causing you to moan out. His free hand covers your mouth. “You wouldn’t want anyone to hear you moan like a slut? If someone came in here and saw this you’d be ruined. You wouldn’t be married. Imagine that disappointment to your parents” 

You swallow, nodding and he smiles, his fingers curling up and pressing into your g-spot. You groan, trying to keep your noises to a minimum. You whine before feeling your back arching up. God you felt so embarrassed with how fast you were coming undone. You never even came this fast when you touched yourself but it’s just something about his touch that made you feel like you were losing your mind. Your breathing becomes shallow and your legs start to shake when Geto pulls his fingers out of you. 

“Already going to cum? I haven’t even been fingering you for ten minutes pretty girl” You whimper before saying “P-please~ Don’t t-tease me My Lord” Suguru slaps you before saying “I’ll do whatever I please. Who are you to stop me?” You groan before saying “I-I’m sorry My Lord! You just m-make me feel so good” He smiles, his fingers going back to working your g-spot. Your eyes begin to water as you try and hold in your orgasm. “You’re not allowed to cum. Not yet. I want you to hold it, baby. Just a little longer then you can cum all over my fingers”

Your legs begin to shake and your back arches. Tears slip from your eyes as Suguru’s free hand rubs against your clit. Your nails dig into his muscular forearm, leaving small marks in the shape of little crescents from your fingernails. “I-I don’t think I can hold it anymore! Please just let me cum for you!” Suguru chuckles against your neck. “Come on, beg a little more. I like it when you beg” You groan, trying to keep your composure and try not to focus on the overwhelming pleasure ripping through your body. 

You find yourself grinding against his finger and  he slips them out of your cunt again and you whine. “Didn’t I tell you to beg for it y/n?” You swallow, nodding your head. “I mean if you don’t want to cum then-” You shake your head. “N-No! Please My Lord I…” Your voice trails off. You can’t believe you were going to say something this lewd. “P-please let- let me cum for you My Lord. Let me make a mess all o-over your fingers!” Suguru laughs before slipping his pointer and middle fingers back inside of you, his thumb adding pressure to your clit.

Your eyes widen as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer, Geto momentarily edging you making the feeling that much more intense. You groan out, trying to stifle the noise of your moans somehow. Suguru’s hot breath tickles your ear as he whispers. “Let go. Let go and cum for me my pretty obedient whore” Your back arches off of the futon and your orgasm washes over your body. 

Geto takes a moment to absorb this moment. The look on your face. God, He could look at you forever. Your tear-stained cheeks; flushed out face; chest rising and falling. Suguru slides his fingers out of your cunt, inserts his fingers into his mouth, tasting your ecstasy. Without warning, Geto pulls your shaky thighs apart without needing to use much force and he aligns himself up with your slit, causing you to panic slightly. Suguru takes notice of the panic engraved into your face.

“What’s the matter?” He inquires softly. “I-I’m not… I don’t think it’s gonna fit” You say, rather anxiously. “I’ll go slow at first, let you get used to it. Or I might not. All depends on how tight your pretty pussy is” You shudder as Suguru’s tip pokes at your hole, causing you to pull away slightly but his grip on your waist holds you in place. “Just relax Doll. As long as you keep still and let me put it in, I’ll make you feel really good. Alright?”

 You shudder as his tip pokes at your hole. Geto slowly slides the head in, causing you to immediately tighten around him. “Relax your body, Love” Suguru says, as he stops himself from moving anymore. You relax, but that doesn't make it easier for him to push inside of you. Suguru begins to grow impatient, completely bottoming out inside of you, tearing your hymen. You scream out, body convulsing as you find yourself unable to focus on anything but the pain. Geto places his hand over your mouth, muffling your screams and whimpers.

“Shh. It’s okay baby. You wouldn’t let me in so I had to” He says, his fingers stroking the side of your face. Geto’s hand then trails down your body, reaching your clit and slightly rubbing it. The mixture of pain and pleasure causes you to see stars. “S-so good~” You whimper, as your chest rises and falls rapidly. Suguru groans, trying not to pick up his pace. Although due to the tightness of your cunt, it slowly weakens his resolve.

You find your hips slightly bucking up at the feeling of his tip slipping into your cervix with each thrust, practically knocking the wind straight out of your lungs. Both the pleasure and small hints of pain that had begun to fade from the original intrusion began to fade, leaving only pleasure in its wake. You knew his cock was ruining you. Your cunt would be stretched out to fit him and only him. Your eyes momentarily roll to the back of your head and Suguru grabs your throat, forcing your eyes to assume their normal position.

His fingers grips the sides of your throat, watching as your tits bounced with each hard thrust.  Your breathing grows heavier, paired with your quivering voice as you whimper out “P-please!~ I wanna c-cum for you Sir!” Geto releases your throat, laying down and pulling you up, allowing you to ride him. This position made you feel so full. With your hands grounding you on his chest, you found your hips moving on their own, bouncing up and down, the lewd sounds from your ass hitting his thighs.

You moan, biting down on your lip as you try to keep quiet but good God. Geto’s dick was hitting all the right places. You don’t think you’d be able to cum the same way. Not after this. Your cunt begins to squeeze around him as your orgasm begins building up again. Your fingernails begin to dig into his shoulders. Suddenly, Suguru’s hands grip your ass, holding you in place and fucking up into you. Your eyes begin to water as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you. 

“Come on slut. I want one more orgasm from you” You begin to shake your head, not being able to focus on the hedonism that has clouded your mind. Truth be told you wanted another on, hoping it would be as gratifying as the last but you couldn’t seem to focus properly. Geto hips stop, leaving you frustrated and confused. “W-why’d you stop Sir? Am I n-not doing a good enough job for you?” Suguru chuckles before saying “Didn’t I tell you I want another orgasm from you? When I want something your top priority must be what I wish for. So what’s it gonna be y/n?”

You swallow before saying “I-I can try” Geto shakes his head. “No. That isn’t what I asked for. I want one and you will give me one” You nod your head before saying “Y-yes Sir” Your hips begin moving on their own, not giving him a chance to thrust up into you. Your cunt begins to squeeze around him, as you try to focus on the orgasm beginning to form between your legs. Geto groans before saying “That’s it. Now I just need you to cum for me, pretty girl.”

You nod, legs beginning to shake as the knot starts growing tighter and tighter. Your breathing begins to grow shallow as your hips begin to grind against his pelvis area, providing you with more stimulation. Suguru groans, as he tries to keep himself from moving to give you an opportunity to focus and create your own pace and to make yourself cum on his cock. “Mmm…’m gonna cum~!” You say, gradually picking up speed. “Go ahead. Take yourself there. I want to see how pretty you face looks when you cum on my cock”

You momentarily stop, pleasure taking over your body as you convulse, having your first full body orgasm. You try to lift off of his dick but Geto holds you down, refusing to let you go as his cock begins twitching inside of you. Suguru lays you on your back, slowly fucking into you as your body writhes in ecstasy.  After a couple of slow and deep thrusts, Geto finally reaches his own climax, growling in your ear, his grip on your hips sure to leave bruises in place of his hands.

Suguru slowly pulls out of you, watching your cunt grip around nothing. He sees his cum beginning to leak out of your cunt. Geto gradually slips his fingers back inside of you, pushing his cum back inside of you. “Don’t waste it whore. I was kind enough to cum inside of you. You should be grateful” You swallow, nodding as you can’t form coherent words just yet. Suguru chuckles.

“I think I might end up marrying you Doll. I might have to fuck you again some other time to make the final decision”

Word count: 2,274

Start date: February 12, 2024 3:49 PM

End date: February 23 2024 8;25 PM

[deltaromeo3]

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎..? #2 ⋆ Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which the reader does not recognise the famous Monegasque Formula 1 driver; the very same one that was about to change her perspective on the sport and also her life.

— you can read part 1 & 3 here! : #1 #3

A/N: thank you for all the love on part 1! here’s a part 2!! tbh I got carried away… let me know if i should do a part 3? 🤭

— Warning(s): poorly translated french.

"Will there be a next time?"

You were sitting on the balcony, enjoying the Monaco sun with a book in hand and a cup of ice cold sparkling water on the table.

“Ding!” Your phone rings but you ignored it.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Your phone goes off like crazy.

You huffed and place your book down, wondering who the hell would be spamming you at this time of day. It was literally 9 in the morning.

charles_leclerc started following you.

charles_leclerc liked your story.

charles_leclerc liked your post.

charles_leclerc liked your post.

Your eyes widened. You blinked a few times to make sure this was real. Why.. and how the hell did he find your Instagram account?

“Em!” You called out. No response.

“Emma! EMMA!”

“WHAT!” She finally responds and you see her head peek through her room door.

You walked over to her and said nothing, instead just showing her the notification. Her mouth went agape and you could see her jaw almost physically touch the floor.

“Wh-what are you waiting for? Follow him back!”

“What?! Why? I don’t even like F1!”

“Doesn’t matter! He’s hot. J-just do it!”

“Okay okay!”

You decided to follow him back and quickly exit the app, locking your phone.

Your phone dings once again.

charles_leclerc sent you a message.

Shit shit shit!

You gasped.

“Emma. He. Sent. Me. A. DM!”

Emma gasps in response. She quickly rushes over to your side. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Oh. My. God.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you both stood frozen in the living room trying to process the fact that the Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc just sent you a DM.

“Well reply him then! Good god.”

“Last time I was this nervous was when I kissed Andre.”

Emma whips her head towards you, “Wh- you kissed Andre?! When?! How come I don’t know about that?” She shakes her head, “Eh! That’s not the point. Ch-Charles! Reply him!”

You quickly type out a response.

You bite your fingernails out of nervousness waiting for his reply.

“Ding!” Goes your phone.

He sure is a fast replier.

You continued texting him. Long story short, he’s asking you out for brunch. You told Emma about your plans and she jumps with joy, clapping her hands in excitement.

“Ooh someone’s going on a date with Lord Percevallll,” She teases.

“It’s not a date Emma!”

“Mmhmm. Sure.” She smirks at you as she walks away.

You rolled your eyes in response.

You looked at the time, luckily you still had a few hours to prepare before meeting him. And like you always do, you went to the balcony to continue reading your book.

You tried your best to read, but you just couldn’t. You were nervous to say the least, about meeting a very famous Formula 1 driver. God, everyone here adores him. He is everyone’s favourite. Even the goddamn Prince loves him…

You decided to take and a nap, hoping it would help you to relax and not think about it too much. So, you did just that.

Your sleep got disturbed to the sound of Emma calling and shaking you vigorously.

“Wake up! Y/N! WAKE UP!”

“What!”

“Did you forget about brunch? Hurry up and get your ass ready!” She says as she tosses you your towel. You looked at your phone. 1:10pm.

“Merde! I’m late!” You quickly got off your bed and headed straight for the shower.

You got dressed in a simple tank top with high waisted jeans, sprayed on some perfume and accessorised with a necklace and a few rings. You put on your shoes and quickly left the house.

“Have fun! And don’t forget to use protection!” Emma shouts as she closes the door behind her.

You quietly laughed to yourself. It’s just brunch, nothing else.

As soon as you exit your building, you were greeted by a familiar figure. He was standing next to his car, leaning on it. The both of you exchanged smiles as soon as you made eye contact with one another.

Charles was wearing a black tee with light wash jeans.

“So sorry I’m late! I took a nap and ended up oversleeping I-“

He cuts you off. “Mon amour, it’s okay. You’re here now. More than happy to see you.”

Does he call every girl he meets mon amour?

You blush at the nickname. Why were you blushing? God help me please.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you for waiting.”

He smiles softly, “Brunch?”

“Brunch.” You smiled back at him.

He brought you to L’Intempo, which was situated in a hotel by the sea. Of course, he requested for the outdoor seating.

Whilst waiting for your food to be ready, you chit chatted with him. He told you all about his life, how he got into F1 and his career.

“I’ve talked so much about myself. Now you!”

“I just recently moved to Monaco. It’s always been the country of my dreams so I decided to study here! I’m studying Neurosciences in Paris, so it’s nearby!”

“Neuroscience? Like… you study brains?”

You chuckled, “Kinda.. but not really. Ah well, you get the idea. Brains.”

He laughs, “Brains.” The both of you laugh. “Why didn’t you just stay in Paris? Everyone wants to go to Paris.”

“Monaco is smaller. And everyone here is crazy rich so who knows, I might end up marrying a rich man. Won’t have to work so hard, y’know.” You joked.

He laughs again, “Really? Who told you that? Google?”

You nodded and he laughs again, “Yeah, who knows. You may be right.” He smiles.

Your food finally came. You took a pic before eating.

@yourusername posted on their story.

Charles offered you to taste some of his food and even fed you some, and you did the same.

The air was filled with your chatter and laughter and soon enough everything was just background noise.

It felt like you’ve been friends with Charles for so long; conversations flowed easily and there was no awkwardness between the two of you.

After brunch however, he decided to drive you around Monaco since you’ve never properly seen the city. He even drove on the F1 track; the chicanes and road markings were still fairly visible.

You sat quietly in the car, admiring the views of the city. It was one thing to explore Monaco with Emma, but with Charles? It was different; he grew up here so he knew spots tourists didn’t know.

Last but not least, he brought you to the Prince of Monaco’s automobile collection. You wondered why he was so eager to show you a collection that wasn’t his but as soon as you entered the building you understood why. There were many cars, but one car stood out in particular.

You shot him a look. “Ah so this is why you were so excited to bring me here?”

He smiles, “Yes! Look, it’s my car.” He gleams with excitement. “I had my first victory and pole position with this!” He explains. Although you had zero interest in Formula 1, hearing his excitement when he was explaining to you about his car was heartwarming. And so, you listened despite not knowing anything about F1.

You smiled as he was explaining, it was cute. You’ve never seen someone so proud of their achievements.

“That’s so cool! So you gave it to the Prince?”

He nods. “I know it’s in good hands so I’m okay with that.”

It was around 630ish when the “date” (can you call it that?) was over. He drops you off in front of your apartment building. When you wanted to exit the car, you realised Charles was rushing over to your side to open the door for you.

“When you’re with me you don’t open doors! I’ll do it.”He says and you laugh at his antics.

He even walked you to your door.

“I’m kinda sad this is over.” He says.

“Well… me too. I had fun.” You smiled.

He smiles back, “Moi aussi. me too. He pauses. “Y aura-t-il une prochaine fois? Will there be a next time?” He asks.

“Why? Voulez vous qu’il y ait une prochaine fois? Do you want there to be a next time? ”

“Oui. Yes." He shyly admits.

“D’accord. Okay. I’ll see you next time then, Lord Perceval.” You teased him with the nickname. “Text me when you’re homed?”

He chuckles. “D’accord.” He walks off and you take out your keys to unlock the front door, but suddenly you were stopped halfway.

“Here,” He passes you his phone, it was opened to his number pad. “I almost forgot.”

You laughed and keyed in your number. “Ok, I’ll go now.” He waves goodbye and leaves.

You entered your apartment to be greeted by Emma cooking dinner.

“Wow finally. Thought you’d never come home! So, how’s the date?”

“It’s not a date!” You exclaimed.

Emma laughs at your reaction, “Okay, how’s brunch that went on for 5 hours?” She corrects herself.

“Good, we-“ You were interrupted by your phone ringing. It was an unknown number. You answered it, only to be greeted by a familiar voice.

“Hello, it’s Charles. I’m on my way home.”

You chuckled, “Hello, Charles. Are you driving and calling me at the same time?”

“Ye- No! I’m… not.” He lies. “Okay, I am. I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

You blushed, “Charles… it’s dangerous! Just call me when you’re home okay?”

You hear him giggle, “Okay mon amour. I’ll call you in 10.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” The line ends.

“I’ll be waiting for youuu,” Emma mocks you, and you cringed, covering your face, asking her to stop. She just replies with laughter. “Glad you had fun with Mr F1 driver. Your wag era is coming soon I can smell it!” She jokes.

“Oh god,” You laughed, walking away to the bathroom to take a shower.