#hot on the trails number 1 fan

[just-another-spg-blog]

Tee hee

[ph4ngz]

BACKSEAT LOVE || mechanic!bkg x anxious!reader

PART 1

A/N : ITS FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED YOU GUYS *HAPPY DANCE* :D

It's been two days since your last encounter with that gorgeous mechanic.

You'd be lying if you said he hadn't been the subject of your dreams, daydreams, wet dreams… all you can think about is him. Him and that perfect face, you still remember every splatter of grease and oil laid out on his features, you think you may have burnt the image into your brain.

His card is right there in the pocket of your denim shorts, just begging you to pull it out and stare at it for the nth time this Sunday morning. Your legs kick up and down on the bed as you lay on your tummy, doing nothing to help your friends pack up and get ready to leave the motel. Glancing back up at them, your eyes only seem to lose focus and any thoughts of packing your bags are, surprise, replaced by a certain blonde.

You wanted to call him, you really did. Would it be odd to show up at his garage again after two days without contact? It's possible you've missed your chance with him now that you've basically been ignoring the guy. You could pretend something is wrong with your car as an excuse to apologise! Nah, because then he'd check it out...

"Whatcha thinkin' about babe?" A mischievous, high pitched voice and a bounce of your mattress breaks you out of your inner struggle.

"I wanna see him…" you admit, realising too late that you hadn’t told your friends about Katsuki.

"See who?" Another voice, much more softer than Mina's, pipes up. Not many things can grasp Jiro's attention, but regarding you and boys…

Oh god, here we go. You and your stupid brain. There's no escaping this nonsense now. You can already hear the giggling and terrible impressions and they haven't even started yet.

But really, should you tell them about him? There'd be nothing wrong with that! However, something is telling you to keep him all to yourself. Jealousy? Panic? Perhaps he's so perfect that you're wary of other better girls stealing him away from you?

"Oh, just this guyyy, y'know… just this guy who gave her his number? And he’s a mechanic by the looks of things." Mina reads off the card he had given you that day, you having been completely unaware that she'd swiped it from your pockets until now.

"Hey!" You squirm under her weight, an elbow leaning on you as if you were an armchair as she carries on.

"Is he hot? What does he look like?" Jiro grins and leaps onto the mattress beside Mina, and before too long Uraraka is straddling your lower back, keeping you pinned down.

"Is he like one of those guys in the movies? Like, all sweaty and dirty and dreamy with a nice smile…" Uraraka's eyes trail upward to the spinning ceiling fan as she describes your mechanic with deadly accuracy.

Your eyes widen involuntarily.

"AH! Ochaco's right! You've gotta go see him again! Did he ask you out? Have you called him?" Mina squeals beside you, but then her face falls into a state of great suspense.

You know what's coming now. Sigh.

"Don't tell me you pulled one of your specials…" she guesses ominously, referring to your notorious moments of Boy Anxiety™.

Jiro smiles menacingly from behind her, "D-D-Did you?"

You find a smidge of respect for Uraraka for not joining in although you know she wants to. Rolling your eyes, you respond with a muffled "almost" after throwing your head into the covers out of embarrassment.

The hyperactive trio share a quick, knowing glance and simultaneously drown out the click-clacking of the old fan airing the motel room with a loud "AAHHH", Uraraka shaking your shoulders and Mina slapping the bed sheets.

"Where did you even find that anyways?" Jiro asks softly amidst the noise.

"It was hiding in one of her ass pockets." The pink haired thief replies proudly, jokingly smacking your asscheek and making it jiggle as your face heats up, still concealed by the covers.

The girls gossip about you as if you're not even there, and you decide you're perfectly fine with that if it means nobody is nagging you, so you let them talk. A few minutes pass by without a single word leaving your mouth until a finger messily taps on your bare shoulder.

Craning your head around to rest atop of your crossed arms, you shamefully eye the cutie straddling your back, internally smiling at the way her fringe is tied back on top of her head.

"Mm?" you hum groggily, awaiting her next words.

"I can always ask 'Zuku to give us all a ride home...?"

Your grumpy pout swiftly fades into a light and appreciative curl of your lips at her suggestion...

"...We aren't the only ones goin' for a ride today-"

...But soon enough the grumpy pout returns.

Excited cackling, thumping of dancing feet upon the floor and a group rendition of "tryna' catch me ridin' dirty" that is least to be desired fill the small room.

"UGHHughhhUGhhhhh," You exhale a tired groan into the back of your forearm, a wavering one at that, courtesy of Uraraka twirling an imaginary lasso in her hand and rocking back and forth on you like she's at a rodeo.

Eventually, an amused grin makes its way onto your face, with their antics (Mina's horrific excuse for dancing) too hilarious to even attempt keeping a straight face.

|| || || ||

"Oh, so you know Kacchan?" Izuku Midoriya's question almost has you jump as you open the car door to your driver's seat, curse him from coming up behind you like that.

"Who?" you furrow your brows innocently, your back pocket feeling particularly empty for some odd reason. You subtly glance behind the mess of green hair partially blocking your view at the three of your friends singing along to the radio in the backseat of his car.

"Whoops, sorry! I meant Katsuki." The thick fingers suddenly shoved in your confused face hold and point at a certain card you'd only just pried from someones grabby hands. God, this guy too!? Is everybody here a damn pickpocket?

Hastily snatching the card from Izuku's hand, you stutter an unnerved answer, "U-Uh! Yeah! No! I mean, we only met the other day, that's all..."

No way this bastard is going back in my pocket, you think.

"No need to freak out, promise I'm not being nosy or anything. I was just wondering, seeing as me and him are... I guess you could say childhood friends! He's actually doing some work on my Jeep, hence the basic rent-out. I knowww, I don't look like a Ford guy." He drawls on cheerfully, ignoring how you stuff the card inside your bra. You smirk at his choice to disregard your actions, and force down the invasive questions you so badly want to ask concerning your beloved mechanic.

"You better go before the girls set up a makeshift concert venue in the trunk." Beaming, you gesture to his bouncing vehicle.

"Shit, you're right. Ah, it was nice seeing you again!" Izuku waves whilst stumbling backwards, making you stifle a giggle whilst lowering into your own car.

|| || || ||

Pesky butterflies erupt within your chest when you finally pull over, the garage you so thankfully came across on your way to the motel stood conspicuously along the deserted highway. The garage door is shut this time around, the worn metal glinting under the aureate setting sun. However, the smaller door located at the side of the run-down building displays a twisted 'open' sign hanging behind the chalky window.

You've done it before, you can do it again. That's what you repeat to yourself inside your head as you hesitantly exit your car and approach the door. After a two minute standoff between your nervousness and the handle, you decide "fuck it!" and let yourself inside. You peer out from behind a brick wall separating the entrance from the main garage and it's nice, just like last time. Slow guitar and heavy bass emitting from what sounds like a vintage cassette boombox, the strong scent of gasoline and copper, fake potted plants hung up in every empty wall space unoccupied by shelves and posters, a huge dusty jeep... you can't see him though.

He's still here, you can hear a few faint grunts and the clanking of metal from beyond your place leant against the doorframe. You wonder, is he fixing some other girl's car? What if he isn't groaning for the reasons you think? The garage door is closed. Is somebody here with him? You're probably stupid for coming here after two days with no contact, he's most likely fallen for someone else thinking you would never come back. Subconscious curiosity leads you into the main room, fretful thoughts diminishing with no wall allowing your train of thought to stray from its tracks.

"Katsuki?-"

Your meek call of his name dies out on your tongue when the man himself emerges from behind the raised hood of the jeep with a "hm?". He's still as breathtaking as you remember, you reminisce about your last encounter whilst he's approaching you, his heavy booted feet seeming to send vibrations to your racing heart.

Your knees weaken when you realise the mechanic threw off putting a shirt on this time, specks of splattered oil glistening on his hard abs underneath the warm sunset rays filtering through the blinds. Forcing yourself to pay attention to his face instead of rudely ogling at his body, you come to find that he's secured his scruffy hair back with a clip, just like Uraraka, allowing you to view all of his features. He's been observing you for about a minute now, silently enjoying the way you're studying him as if he were a stone sculpture. Just give him a second, he'll say something eventually.

"Voice disappear or somethin'?" He asks cheekily, the sudden movement of a smirk emerging on his face breaking you out of whatever pesky trance you fell into.

"Oh! Uh, no! No, it's here! I can speak… yeah…" You spew a panicked sentence that would've been incoherent if you'd forced it out any harder. The anxious smile you’re wearing slowly fades as you start to chew on the inside of your cheek, nostrils flaring at how self aware you've become. Gosh, you're so stupid. Why can't you just speak like a normal person!? Stuttering and stumbling all over your words like this must look really sad. You hurl a mental slap at your face, scolding yourself for being so pathetic. Bakugo chuckles through his nose at your timid state and lightly scratches his bare stomach, deciding his next move. A big hand impulsively moves to your bare upper arm, mindlessly stroking your soft skin with his thumb for a short moment.

"Chill, it's just me. Stop acting like 'm gonna turn around and kill you." The man says casually with his usually downturned brows raised in amusement, removing his arm from you to take a few steps back and continue his work behind the jeep's hood. It's just him? JUST HIM? Being killed doesn't seem to be at the top of your list of worries right now, but the possibility increases as you're starting to picture your heart failing on the spot purely because of his existence. How are you supposed to "chill" when the sight of his broad, shiny, tanned, firm chest is enough to coax your eyes to roll back?!

You're thinking so damn hard about what to say as he's working, but nothing is good enough. Maybe you should leave and apologise, save your last ounce of self confidence. Maybe you should tell him the truth about your little anxiety issue. Nah, he wouldn't get it. Would he? Before you can stop yourself, a few words come tumbling out of your mouth to form the most unexpected question that leaves yourself dumbfounded.

"C-Can I kiss you?"

You stop breathing once Bakugo peers at you from behind the metal, mildly surprised and overwhelmed by your sudden request. That was fuckin' quick, he muses. Amidst a moment of fleeting courage, you will yourself to continue even if it's dizzying due to your heart beating a million miles per second.

"I’m sorry. I wanted to call you. Or at least— text you! I got so nervous and my friends all make fun of me whenever I talk to a guy so—"

"C'mere." The blonde gestures with his free hand while the other supports his leaning weight by pressing his palm upon the edge of the hood, spanner held tightly between his fingers. Now or never, you chant to occupy your brain. Head hanging low, you do as he says and come to a halt when only a few inches are left between your bare arm and his. Without another word to spare, Bakugo takes hold of your waist and veers your body to the tight space in front of him, caging you in. You fit underneath the metal canopy, the jeep's ginormous wheels providing some serious height. You're still staring intently at the dirty concrete area uncovered by either of your feet, unknowing of how to react.

The boombox in the corner of the room provides the only sound other than your ragged breathing, the music doing its best job to calm your nerves. You want this. You want this so bad, so don't fuck it up. Just move your damn head, that's it! Tears eventually cloud your vision, but before they can drip to the ground your chin is nudged upwards, letting the salty droplets slide down your heated cheeks. You're forced to look him in the eye whilst his heavy touch travels to the top of your muddled head, narrowed crimson gaze boring into your own, guilty and utterly captivated.

When he gently pulls you in by the nape of your neck, and his surprisingly soft lips make contact with yours... it's like all energy is drained from your body. As you kiss, you find your weakening form melting into his broad and hard chest, gradually tipping closer and closer until your bodies are pressed against one another's. Any thoughts previously occupying your mind have vanished without a trace, brain completely blank and depending entirely on the feeling of instinct. You're both sighing contently through your noses, each noise emitted from one has the other deepen the slanting of their mouth until a tinge of ferocity is thrown into the mix.

Your knees buckle abruptly at one point and breaks the kiss in a way that's too depriving of elation to bear, although Bakugo doesn't appear to care that much as he urgently hoists you up by your thighs to recklessly brush all the nuts and bolts strewn across his desk and replace them with your ass instead. A smile appears on the man's face when he catches your shoulders jerk at the reverberating clangour of metal hitting the floor. He situates himself further between your legs after making sure to shield the back of your head from the wall, worried that he'll hurt you with his ungentlemanly tendencies. His heavy breathing is causing your brows to bow in a state of pure bliss, the occasional grunt he sounds causing your jaw to go slack.

The amorous mechanic takes advantage of this and hungrily slips his tongue past your plumped lips to slither in tandem with yours for a while, evoking a muffled and greatly pleasured sob to escape into his mouth more than once, all of which he gladly engraves deep within his memory before yanking you forward by the waist once again, this time positioning your lower half close-packed and pressed to his hips. Bakugo is panting once he separates his face from yours, directing an avid ruby-red glance your way before lowering his head beside your neck.

The summer air is so hot, laced with the scent of diesel and unrivalled desire. Everything is surreal. The moody, crackly guitar in the background, the setting sun decorating the paint-splattered walls with strips of gold, the mess of blonde untamed locks you're tugging on brushing along the line of your jaw. His eagerness is evident with how rushed and sloppily his tongue glides across your skin, teeth providing harsh nibbles just under your ear and his lips hurriedly ghosting over any areas left untouched so he can suck on them hard enough to leave an instant bruise.

He's got his hands beneath your loose tank top, thick and skilled fingers splayed out and exploring every inch of your arching back. The hefty, warm touch backtracks to run over the goosebumps that had formed in its wake, sending intense shivers all throughout your limp form that have the muscles in his arms vibrate with your shaky movements. Venturing lower, Bakugo drags his palms all the way to your hips, almost drooling at how your soft flesh juts out the slightest bit above the hem of your denim shorts. He's acting hastily, like he's been set a deadline, moving to skim his thumbs over your ribs to the ticklish area below the cups of your bra.

Both of your bodies are rolling into each other now, sweat glazing the skin left uncovered by your clothes. The dim lamp and other miscellaneous items rocking back and forth on the desk struggle to stay upright or in place when every brusque, heedless motion of the mechanic's hips comes paired with the sheer power of desperation. Before you know it, he's fervently sucking on your tongue once more with a steel grip cupping the back of your bent knees, blunt nails digging in and making you uncontrollably exhale breathy whimpers that have his ears almost twitching to hear more.

Mixed saliva is coating your lips, an outcome of paying less attention to the kiss when your abdomen started to clench with anticipation. Confidence still a bit on the wobbly side, you take his bottom lip in your teeth and lightly tug on it as you pull away for breath, earning a pleased, sexy open-mouthed groan from Bakugo. Neither of you have opened your eyes in a while, much too focused on experiencing every overwhelmingly delectable feeling as they come. Jaws too tired to close your mouths, the taller man decides to give a harder thrust of his lower half and revels in the little gasps you reward him with, the growing bulge filling the space between your plush thighs gyrating into your pulsing core just right.

Long fingers abruptly spread out over your bra, opting for a quick squeeze before eagerly unhooking the clasp and greedily taking a handful of your bare tits from underneath the loosened cups. It seems he can't be bothered to seductively throw it to the ground like in the movie scenes Uraraka forced you to watch on YouTube earlier. And yet I prefer that, you smile to yourself and let out an erotic moan when your excited mechanic's huge palms rub your nipples. The sudden stimulation coaxes your inner walls to aimlessly contract, as if they're yearning to clench around the hardening, clothed length relentlessly grinding on you. His teeth return to the marked surface of your neck.

The steady speed and strength Bakugo infuses his thrusts with is impressive and you would probably be wondering how he hasn't wasted all of his energy if his hard-on wasn't consistently nudging the thick material of your shorts into your clit, the pressure so perfect it's dangerously close to maddening. The swollen bud throbs urgently at the sensation, a warning which you take notice of a mere second too late. The loud, repetitive knocking of wood swiftly being forced into solid bricks only serves to pull on the knot within your abdomen until only a single fraying thread remains intact. Not for long though, all it takes is simply a short and gruff "fuck" from the focused mans chest to snap it.

"Nnnguh!" your muscles tense instantly as you abruptly cry out, barely managing to yank him in further with the heels of your sneakers pushing at his ass. Bakugo hurriedly opens his eyes, vision blurred a bit when he moves to watch your features scrunch up under the control of absolute ecstasy. Although he's pleasantly surprised by your sudden release, his hips keep moving under the greedy pressure of your feet. Soon enough, your facial expression morphs into one of wide glossy eyes and quivering lips following the slow disappearance of your orgasm. He's smitten, without a doubt. Looking down at you like you're the one he's been looking for all his life, almost melancholic with the unmistakeable glint of rapture prominent in the pretty red rings of his gaze.

"Jesus, what brought that on?" he teases with raised, bushy brows. Ready for an embarrassed excuse, one that he'll remember forever. You’re out of breath already, one orgasm enough to render you far gone, too far gone to watch your words. You see the way he’s looking at you all expectantly, waiting for a reason to pick on you and make you burn up. If he wants an answer, he can have one.

"You, you did." your response has the mechanic blushing like a mad man, the three words prompting a sudden few drops of pre-cum to leak into the fabric of his underwear. Acting as nonchalantly as possible, Bakugo clears his throat and straightens his slumped posture with a try hard grin.

"That so." His voice is a smidge softer than before as he contemplates ripping off your clothes and going at you right then and there. The soggy feeling of his boxers rubbing against the sensitive tip of his cock serves as a reminder. A reminder that he's not the type to hold back when he's inside. ...Alright, he'll wait for you, just let him wash away the oily mess painting his hands first. Hastily propping you up so that you don’t fall, he orders you a quick "sit" then rushes to the sink stationed opposite from you.

You scoff at your own impatience whilst you're unbuttoning the shorts hugging your waist, something that Bakugo catches on his way back to you. "Someone's excited," he murmurs like it's second nature and gestures to you with dripping hands. "Take em' off for me."

Choosing to let his attitude slide, you obey willingly. You hardly get to finish removing the denim before your mechanic is pouncing on you akin to a wildcat, bared fangs hovering just below your navel then hungrily clamping down on the lacy material of your panties. It's fucking delicious, the manner in which the man prises the lace waistband away to release it unexpectedly, letting it snap upon the hypersensitive skin with an addictive sting. A devilish smile plays on the man's lips, the adorable sounds you bless him with doing nothing to lessen the discomfort between his legs.

Taking your underwear in his teeth again, he repeats his last actions. However, the stretching fabric doesn’t make contact with your abdomen this time around, instead they're being dragged just below your knees. Ah, you see. Your restricting panties leave enough space for his head to fit between your thighs, but they don't allow you to spread them any further. Swollen clit pulsing, you grip the edge of the desk tighter with anticipation as Bakugo lifts your legs to situate himself underneath and rests them on his broad shoulders.

"Hngh, please please please~" you whine for him whilst twirling strands of his hair with antsy hands. A genuine laugh from the mechanic blows a few puffs of cool air directly over your pussy and the abrupt change in temperature has your body rolling closer in hopes that his mouth will bring more heat. His fingers are still wet with water as they refrain from touching the top of your thighs, the droplets cooling your skin when they land.

"Gah—!" a pathetic, surprised gasp evoked from you makes the blonde's heart melt into a puddle. Did you think he was going to warn you with a sweet kitten lick? Who do you think he is? Of course he'd start with a harsh suck on your clit. Your grip loosens in Bakugo's locks when he opts to suck and flick his tongue simultaneously, the seemingly endless flow of pleasure sending your body into an exhausted state almost straight away. "K-Katsuki, Katsuki— mnnghWAit!"

Finally, his skilled mouth detaches from your overwhelmed bud with a muted pop and you can take a deep breath. So it looks like having your legs forced to remain in a relaxed position heightens the effects. You're mind-blown, nobody's ever done something so confidently, so assertively to you before. If he had continued whatever that was then you might've…

"Too much f'you? Shorry shweetheart," the muscular fiend muffling apologies beneath you is still gliding his tongue over your saturated entrance, swallowing greedily and peering into your fucking soul with those ruby eyes. "Mnnbut you shoulda known, m'nothing like anything you've ever had before…"

Without a second's notice, Bakugo easily slides his dripping middle finger inside of you, a hot and amused laugh vibrating through you due to his face still being pressed into your throbbing cunt. "Sho eashily…" you hear him comment. You're squirming with every movement he makes, the digit creating pressure within your contracting walls coaxing animalistic moans from your chest that even you don't recognise. It's when his eager tongue begins to lap relentlessly at your clit too that your focus wavers, poor brain trying to acknowledge everything at once. Eventually, the euphoria has you doubled over with your mind seeing nothing but crimson stars studying you from between a pair of weak legs.

"Good girl, yeah yeah yeah," the blonde praises whilst savouring the view above, his jolting cock demanding for him to push three fingers inside just to hurry things up. "So f’ckin tasty and wet for me, think you can take three fingers?" he asks lowly, almost states it. You nod rapidly, barely in the know of what you're agreeing to but you get the gist. It's slightly embarrassing how his thick fingers slide in without an issue, though it doesn't look as if Bakugo has anything to say. Instead, he's elated. If only you could see how rock hard he is right now in this moment, how much of an effect you have on his body. If his dick could get any bigger it would tear a damn hole in his clothes!

"Like you were goddamn made for it." he confirms to himself and nuzzles his face further.

Twisting, turning, tapping, your horny mechanic bullies your narrowing inner walls with his heavy touch. You're holding your breath again, you can't even help it with how insanely good he's making you feel and he's not even inside you yet. The mere thought of his cock draws a long, somewhat frustrated groan from your throat, voice cracking softly when his plumped lips close over your heated pussy to suck on your overstimulated clit once more. On cue, your mouth opens in a silent scream before the words can come out prepared.

"Katsuki! Too, huh, good! I-I think—" you try to warn him as best as you can in such a state but Bakugo proceeds to dart his tongue, coated heavily with your sweet arousal, back and forth over the sore bud until you're clenching on his fingers so much that he can't move them. "Hhhhhoh my god! Again-n! M'cumming!"

And with that, the man between your thighs swiftly withdrawals to stick his tongue out and carelessly skim the convulsing bundle of nerves by shaking his head. Somehow the mechanic expected the clear liquid to come spraying from your sopping cunt, he'd just prepared himself and you saw it. Your body is tensing in ways you've never experienced in your entire life as your juices hit the concrete with an obscene splat. The fact that you're squirting everywhere is shocking enough, but the fact that the man who's face you're currently cumming on already knew exactly how to make it happen...

Your walls are vicelike around nothing as Bakugo savours the flavour present on the tip of his tongue, the fading end of your release enhancing the emptines within. Did he do that on purpose too? To keep you wanting more? Your widened eyes immediately search to be met with his own narrowed and lust-tainted leer, and then you realise something. This guy really does know what he's doing, so much so that you're almost scared by how good you feel. His head certainly would've been crushed if you hadn't tried to keep your legs open. After retreating from his spot in front of you, the mechanic mutters a "let's get these fuckin' things outta my way" breathlessly and proceeds to rid of your cute panties. Your cunt drools arousal as he dangles them in your face, giving his wrist a little twirl before pretending to throw them to the ground. Little do you know, they're actually stuffed nice and cozy in his pocket. How sneaky.

"Need you…" whispering sweetly once he's stood before you again, you reach over slightly to cup his clothed and ever-hardening length. The low-key gasp that's sucked past the burly man’s lips is then exhaled as a deep "ah", the forceful back and forth motion of your palm causing him to feel as if his spirit is about to ascend to fucking cloud nine and beyond.

"Need me, hah?" he asks rhetorically. You don't stop as he's soon hurrying to unbuckle the belt looped around his waist, in fact his visible determination has your blood sparking with newfound energy. A kind of energy that influences the muscles in your legs to feel unused, begging you to ride him until they give out. Bakugo is moments away from letting his leaky cock breathe, finally able to free himself from the painfully claustrophobic material that is his underwear after removing the first layer—

"Wait, wait, in the car... can we? In the back sea-"

The sound of a car door opening hardly registers and you're being thrown playfully into the velvety backseat of a spacious jeep before you can even finish your question. Luckily, you're given a mere few seconds to reposition yourself until the unruly blonde sits beside you, bare legs spread to make room for one hand lazily grabbing and shaking the base of his hard-on beneath damp fabric. Observing his current state, your half lidded eyes are drawn to his shiny pink tip poking out from under the soaked cotton briefs you so badly wish to yank down. It's swollen, trying to jolt whilst being pressed into his abdomen and causing even more cloudy, sticky pre to droop in a string of small beads. The desperate mechanic is also watching with bowed brows, eventually turning his head to you as if to silently plead, simultaneously lifting his ass up to fidget halfway out of his underwear.

Holy shit, he's big. You knew he was big, but… he's big. And veiny. His huge fingers wrap around his bare member for a second time, influencing him to throw his head back and toy with himself. You’re stunned for a good moment, zero thoughts as you play witness to Bakugo’s solo pleasure. You hadn't seen his features contort in such a manner before, as his face had been hidden from your eyes whenever they were open. He's got this look about him right now, like he's totally losing himself in rapture for you. Mesmerising, truly. Those rock solid abs rise and fall at quite a fast pace, you shouldn't keep him waiting but… This guy is fucking delicious, you could just lick him right now. You bet even the sweat coating his face in a pretty shine tastes like salted caramel. You want a taste. Without hesitation, you straddle the man's lap, a firm grip stationed on his shoulders with his cock bobbing involuntarily into your puffy clit. Daringly, you grab him by the chin to lick a clean, wet stripe along his pink cheek.

Such a salacious action offers no small reward, you realise this when a clenched fist in your hair pulls you back just enough to have your noses bumping into one another, a dangerous growl fleeing from behind gritted teeth, straight from the tasty mechanic's dick rather than his brain. You're rather puzzled as he slowly ghosts his mouth over your own, until he speaks.

"M'I okay to rough you up a little? Hm?" Voice gravelly and deeply smooth enough to have your head spinning, he asks impatiently and narrow-eyed. You're most likely getting yourself into some kind of trouble judging by the sheer size of him, but how can you say no to something so utterly passion stoked? Answering with a simple nod and another teasing lick over those talented, wetted lips of his, you lower your already bucking hips. It burns, it fucking burns. Yet it's intoxicating. How odd for such a searing pain to have you wishing time would stop. Whimpering and grimacing, you've just about managed to fit half of his length past your soaking entrance.

"Want me t' rough my pretty baby up in the backseat?" He's asking you rhetorically, almost tauntingly, though somehow there's more than a hint of soothing behind his words. "Take it easy, baby. That's it…" he's being so gentle with his tone, breathing shaky as he memorises every damn detail of the view in front of him.

Fuck, it's stretching you out so much! The slippery, warm tip is squished between your succulent inner walls, gradually nudging them further apart to accommodate more with the shallow rise and dip of your body. "Hngh... fuck— nngh!" your pained grunts and contracting around him both have Bakugo digging his front teeth into his tender lower lip, ruby gaze tracking a lone drop of sweat trickling down your temple. Hyper-aware of your existence, of the velvety soft ridges massaging his length, a subtle smile enhances the shamefully mushy blonde's features and a thumb swipes the rolling droplet from your face.

With every inch nearly a struggle to slide past your tender, wet entrance, the longer and less frequent your trepidatious gasps for air grow. It's the pure fervour dancing in the depths of your abdomen to blame for your lack of air intake, for this overwhelming lightheadedness that makes you feel as if you might just pass out on your mechanic's fat dick. Then it becomes apparent, you've been so focused on easing the pain that the rapturous inferno spreading within yourself has been stealing your breath away. A flustered giggle is pulled from you when Bakugo cracks a stupid joke regarding your breathing pattern.

"Damn, I knew- ah, shit..." he shudders when the sensitive head of his cock reaches deeper parts of you, canines chattering together with a moan before carrying on. "I knew I was hot, but fucking breathe, heheh..."

However, your embarrassed grin flickers in the presence of intense enjoyment as you sense your frame succumbing to the man's increasing touch located at your sides. Rough hands are guiding your hips from their ongoing gentle bob to a faster, shorter and heavier bounce. This new movement finally drives the remaining inches of the mechanic's length inside of you, the harsh impact producing a pornographic splurt to sound as your arousal caves into the building pressure and escapes from your throbbing, stretching entrance.

"GAH—!"

"Oh-hohoooooh, baby..."

He doesn't stop there, either. The back of your thighs smack upon the top of his own, the lewd noises increasing in volume every time Bakugo lifts himself up to brutally slam you back down simultaneously. Strings of your slick connect to his sticky skin, linking the both of you together like some filthy double meaning in a movie. Your insides experience a sinfully pleasing ache with the continuous and vigorous moving, the way he's ramming in and out so fucking fast and rough and perfectly— God, there's absolutely no way that you can delay another orgasm like this, no chance in hell. How are you even supposed to function right now when his cock is so amazingly able to stimulate your over-sensitive clit from the inside?

"Ka-a-at'ski-i~" your near sing-song-ish moan of his name is prolonged by the drag and drop of your weight. It's the whiniest shit he's ever heard, the wavering of your wobbly voice positively addictive to the unruly mechanic.

"I can't stop, can't stop it!" a hurried, raspy whisper into his pink-tinged ear indicates the unstoppable approach of another brain-melting orgasm on your end, and Bakugo really can't help himself from pistoning his long dick as deep as your spasming cunt will allow before the involuntary push of the juicy walls clamping over him can render you empty again. This is the hardest one yet, this time causing your form to lock up as soon as your palms caress the prickly stubble on the blonde's jaw. He's fucking delighted, peeking up at your distressed features from beneath your weak hold. It's so adorable, how you can barely handle the pleasure he's gladly supplying you with, slutty little body already so drunk on sex.

"Ugh-huh! Plea—easeeee," you cry out and impulsively bring the mechanic's head forward to bury your sobs and babbles into his natural, soft spikes. "Mmnn- please, so good..."

He notices that you're not fidgeting anymore. Instead, you've been ultimately paralysed by ecstasy. Your back arched and your trembling thighs raised, needy body in prime position to just fucking take it. You're doing exactly that, perky tits jolting into his chin whilst you let him pound your sweet pussy however he wants. Narrow eyes rolling back, a husky moan breaks the hold of his lips. There's no need to see your face to know how far gone you are, but just in case, Bakugo checks in with a dirty laugh and an utterly sexual "don't even know whatcha' beggin' for, do ya?"

Hardly capable of a simple yes or no, you can only respond with a long, broken hum into his tear-dampened hair. Fuuuuck, the car is rocking with the man's thrusts and it has the act of jutting his hips upward becoming so much easier. After a short moment of sucking on one of your pebbled nipples to have you squeezing his length, he decides a slight change needs to be made before he can cum. Without warning, Bakugo hastily manhandles you so that you're facing away from him with your lolling head leaning upon the headrest in front of you, arms around the seat and gripping on for dear life.

The musky, intimate scent of sex has an incredibly intoxicating effect, neither of you able to get enough of the lusty, hot air filling the vehicle. It influences the mechanic to ram his cock in you once again, but this time he doesn't pull back, choosing to drag you into his broad, glistening chest and guide your tired hips to gyrate in his lap. You're absolutely fucking destroyed down there, he notes pridefully when he lets his fingers slip back and forth over your numbing clit. At this point, you can only feel the pleasure his fingers are bringing you, rather than his actual digits themselves. Your mind is completely de-railed, train of thought tipped over onto its damn side. This guy is literally going to fuck your brains out!

"Keep goin', gorgeous. M' almost there," Bakugo groans whilst one of his hands trails to your throat. He can feel his dick stirring within your tight cunt, he can feel your entrance squeezing the base as your walls attempt to milk him for all he's worth. To be honest, hes lost count of your orgasms. You have, that's for sure. In fact, he doesn't think you could count to 3 right now, even if you tried your hardest. Let's make that 2, he muses to himself just as your clit starts to pulse beneath his dangerously intense touch.

"Ka... Kat'ski..." you mumble through the pressure situated under your jawbone, unable to keep your head from falling back into the crook of his neck with a silent scream. The contracting of your mellow insides circling his blunt tip has the tense mechanic blurting:

"Cum for me, baby. C-cum f'me, m'gonna cum for you too, n'kay?"

Another splash of clear liquid is sprayed from between your legs as soon as Bakugo's words register, his endless rocking and thick fingers creating gaps in stream which only makes everything that much messier. You're still in the end throes of your release when the man behind you loses control of the curses previously sat at the tip of his tongue, all of them falling from his quivering mouth within a matter of seconds.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck— cuh—! Cumming!" he strains into your tangled hair, the hold around your throat gradually tightening with each forceful spurt of white from his jumping cock. Hips bucking lightly during the fading continuation of his orgasm, the brawny man removes his hand from your neck, allowing you to inhale a deep breath.

Then.

Reality kicks in.

Full throttle.

"Oh my fucking god. We need to fuckin' get out."

Slowly coming to your senses, you angle your tired head to peer at your mechanic who seems to be troubled.

"Why's that?" you question and kiss his flushed cheek, face plastered with cute curiosity. However, that cute curiosity is quickly replaced with utmost panic when Bakugo doesn't reply, instead observing the mess surrounding the two of you. "Shit! This is..."

Izuku's fucking jeep.

|| || || ||

Hours pass, all spent scrubbing the entirety of the jeep's backseat area. You'd prefer not to remember the chosen method of exiting the vehicle whilst being impaled and full of cum, although it was pretty hilarious at the time. Oh, right now? Right now you're on a stealth mission, currently waiting for Bakugo to signal your leave with obvious hand gestures whilst Izuku asks about his car. Hm... you feel like you're forgetting something— Woah, shit! He's signalling, okay. Refraining from letting a giggle escape at the blonde's tight-lipped and wide eyed expression, you sneak out from behind his childhood friend and quietly leave the building.

"So it's all good now?" Izuku pats the hood of his jeep, emerald eyes eager for his answer.

"Mm, yup. Stay there a sec while I go get your keys, loser."

You're on your way to your own car, still wondering if maybe you'd left something back there when Bakugo appears from behind the door in the corner of your vision. Spinning on your heels, you tilt your head at the cocky smirk he's blessing you with. You're confused, until you clock him dangling your lacy panties on one finger.

'Wh— HEY!' you mouth at him with a frown of disbelief. So that's what you were forgetting! You're about to storm right back over there, but the manner in which the blonde peers over his shoulder with an awkward face tells you that Izuku's waiting patiently. He doesn't mouth anything back to you, just opts to blow you a mischievous kiss, a kiss that he plants on the fabric of your panties, before cheekily shutting the door on you.

"Unbelievable." your hands flail around as you murmur with an amused smile. Guess you'll have to come back for those.

|| || || ||

Taglist :

@artdumpsstuff @endlessfreaky @passionateuchiha

[lcandothisallday]

Court Side Butterflies Part 1 - Jack Harlow x f!reader

this actually SUCKS but oh well. Might make a part 2

photo credit to @a-moment-captured !!

You walk under the tunnel with your best friend, making your way through the swarms of people to get your court side seat. Your best friend was dating a player on the Boston Celtics—Jaylen Brown to be exact, which warranted the both of you sitting court side to support her man.

With it being a game 7, you knew this game was going to be tense and you only hoped the Celtics would win so that your best friend could celebrate with her boyfriend. If it were up to you, you didn’t really care who wins—only wishing for an exciting game.

“I’m gonna go speak with Jaylen real quick,” your friend mused. “Wish him luck and all.” You nod and smirk at your love sick friend. “Wish him luck for me too!” you exclaim as she walks away.

There was still about 15 minutes until the game officially started so you decided to take your seat and chill on your phone in the meantime.

While you’re scrolling through Instagram, two quite large people walk in front of you—one of them nearly stepping on your toes.

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry!” the man exclaimed. “Did I step on your toes?—”

You look up at the bald man and shake your head with a laugh. “No no you’re good,” you reassure. Your line of sight trails to see the man going to take a seat next to him, your eyes going slightly wide when you realize it was Jack Harlow.

Jack’s dad sits next you, prompting him to make small talk. “Routing for the Celtics?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a nod. “Here with my best friend—she’s dating Jaylen so I guess I gotta be supportive of the both of them,” you joke.

“Oh—are you not a basketball fan?” he chuckled in question.

“I am! It’s just been a long day,” you laugh.

“Jeez Dad—leave the poor girl alone. Probably doesn’t wanna talk to you all night,” Jack teased, causing his Dad to scoff playfully and for you to giggle.

“Jack,” he introduced, extending his hand towards you. “Y/N. It’s nice to meet you…and your Dad ” you reply with a smile.

Jack’s Dad smiled at the interaction before he leaned in close to his son, his voice low. “Wanna sit next to her?” he whispered in question. “She’s pretty—maybe you could get her number,” he mused, playing wingman.

Jack’s face heated up, his cheeks blushing with a tint of red. “Uh…not now. It’ll be too obvious. Plus she’s a model…to many eyes on us,” he whispered back a bit bashfully. He couldn’t deny that you were indeed beautiful and he would’ve loved the opportunity to talk more and get to know you— but there were simply too many eyes and cameras around to risk any annoying rumours that frankly he didn’t wanna deal with.

Soon enough, your friend makes her way back to her seat, leaning in close with a knowing smirk. “Jayson asked about youuuu,” she hummed matter of factly which Jack couldn’t help but overhear. While he loved Jayson and considered him a friend, the jealousy still bubbled within him. He knew it wasn't warranted--after all he barely knew you but it didn't stop his feelings.

He was still intrigued to hear your response so he sat quietly, his dad also unknowingly doing the same.

You scoff at your friends remark. “He's too hot and cold with me...until he wants to commit then I'm not doing anything," you shrug.

You friend groaned, “oh come on y/n! He likes you—you like him—the sex is great apparently—”

“Oh my god!” you interrupt exclaiming. “Shut up! Just please shut up,” you groan, shaking your head in embarrassment. “That’s not something you can say in public with media and fans everywhere,” you mutter lowly.

Your friend shrugged. “I just want you to be happy.”

“How about I worry about that and you worry about cheering on your boyfriend,” you deadpan.

“Suite yourself.”

You sit quietly for the remainder of quarter, your arms crossed as you stared ahead with a stoic expression. You loved your friend but she can be a bit much at times.

When half time finally came around, your friend got up to comfort Jaylen for being down a couple points. “You coming?”she asked, more so wanting to know if you were going to talk to Jayson.

“Nah—I’m gonna stick here.” She simply nodded and headed off.

“Your friend seems like a handful,” Brian spoke to you with a chuckle, causing Jack’s eyes to widen. “Dad!” he scolded.

You however thought it was funny and began laughing. “She…she really is. I’m sorry you guys had to um…hear that,” you breath out shyly.

Jack licked his lips with a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it…my best friend Urban would’ve said worse,” he mused, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ok good to know it’s a universal experience,” you hum.

Brian smirked. “Hm—why don’t you two kiddos go grab us some drinks?” he suggested. Jack’s head snapped towards his dad, glaring at him while his cheeks turned red.

“Yeah why not,” you replied.

You and Jack walked side by side to the concession stand, him walking with his hands awkwardly in his pocket. “Your dad is very nice,” you began.

Jack scoffed playfully. “Nah—he’s tryna play matchmaker,” he laughed, shaking his head shamefully.

“Ohhhh I see,” you hum teasingly. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working,” you confess, your cheeks burning up.

Jack grinned. “Damn—might need to have him work his magic more often,” he hummed.

You scoff in feigned offence. “Only if it works in my favour. Wouldn’t want him helping you get other girls.”

“Oh so you’re territorial huh?”

“What if I am?” you taunt in question.

“Fuuuck,” he laughed, his dimple appearing as he ran his hand through his hair. “I cant lie—that’s hot.”

“So tell me…if I ask you out,” Jack began nervously as he scratching the back of his neck. “Am I gonna have to worry about Jayson and his ‘great sex?’”

“I’m not seeing him anymore.”

Jack shook his head. “That’s not what you implied back there…if he committed…are you gonna commit back?” he asked, reiterating what you said to your friend earlier.

You sighed. “I’m sure I could ask you the same thing—with all the girls around you,” you point out.

“Nahhh—don’t do that. Don’t gaslight me and twist it back on me,” Jack laughed while shaking his head. “When you figure it out—I really would love to take you out…maybe even show you what great sex really is,” he smirked.

“Deal.”

[catiuskaa]

putting to good use

a short sub!jisung smut because he has been going crazy this comeback and I know it for a fact.

posting bc i have 33 drafts and its making me and tumblr a bit crazy lol

MY MAN NEEDS TO CHILL BECAUSE WOW MAN I CAN HANDLE UP TO A POINT

WC: 0.9k

you had always been Jisung’s utmost supporter, his number 1 fan, and with the last comeback, who could blame his partner for wanting to reward all his hard effort?

“Jagi, i’m home!” He greeted, the smile on his face rolling off on his cheeky tone of voice. Jisung giggled softly at the loud hum you let out as a greeting.

He left his coat on the entrance and then walked to the small office/studio you had both created in the apartment so you two could work from home, soundproof panels adding to the vibe and making it clear that there was an artist among you two.

“Oh, hi baby, how was your day? Aww, it was good, jagi, thanks for asking!” He mocked, resting his shoulder on the doorframe.

You stared at him from above the computer screen, your hand fidgeting with your lips, then just nibbling on them, quickly eyeing back to the device.

Han’s eyebrows shot up. He chewed on his lip, wondering if maybe he had done something to annoy you?

What would normally happen was that you'd smile at him, take your headphones off, and hug him tightly. Not just acknowledge his presence with a hum and a nod, your eyes glued to your computer.

Lost in thought, he went over to the kitchen and took a pack of instant noodles for himself. But he hadn´t finished setting up the pot to heat up the water when your arms slithered their way to his waist, turning him and caging him against the countertop, bodies tight against one another.

"J-Jagi?" He stuttered, flustered from head to toe.

"Thought I wouldn't do anything about it, huh?" Your sly snicker sent chills all over his body, and he gasped when your hips pushed him further against the counter. "You, looking hot, and sweaty, and all bothered on stage..."

Each aspect numbered had been accompanied by a gentle thrust of your hips, and Jisung couldn't —wouldn't— dare to hide the little whimpers that came out of his mouth. You smirked, pressing soft kisses on the corner of his mouth.

"And, that silly little video... taking your jacket off your shoulders... and sticking your tongue out, breathless?" Whispers followed the trail of open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his shoulders, leaving lipstick stains on the way, and Han's legs wobbled in place, still trying to process what was happening.

He panted when you moved away slightly, almost failing to hold his weight on the counter behind him, feeling the cold marble pressed on his lower back, in contrast to how hot you had made him feel in the blink of an eye.

"I- I just..." he muttered, trying to get back his mind, which turned blank at your movements but was quickly silenced when you bit his lip.

You had never done anything like this. Yes, you liked to talk in bed sometimes, but never so dominating, never making him feel like he was yours to touch, and yours only.

He needed more. Now.

"Oh, baby." You cooed at him. He was seeing stars already, his body reacting to your touch and your whispers in a way he had never felt before. "If you stick your tongue out, you might as well be prepared to use it."

The kiss that followed was messy, like a flame that burned its way down his body, a mix of teeth and tongue that made him crazy. You then cradled his face in your hands and pressed his lips against yours, pulling him tightly against you. His mouth was fierce and eager, kissing you deeply, as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. He didn't want to stop, so he kept pushing you against him, his fingers tangled in your hair as he held you close, his other hand weakly helping his body stay in place.

"I'm going to put that little mouth of yours to good use. Would you like that, baby?"

He was blushing furiously when you nibbled on his ear, waiting for him to reply, but you laughed when he nodded eagerly.

"Speak, baby. If we're going to do this, I need you to say what you want."

He panted, arousal flooding his body, his mind only able to focus on your body and your voice.

"F-Fuck, darling, please–"

You moved away from him, and he almost fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

You softly took his cheek in your hand, his skin hot and red.

"Such a good boy."

He couldn't help but groan now as he felt the anticipation build up inside him. He felt he was going to wake up at any moment because whatever was going on right now felt like a motherfucking dream.

Jisung let out a flustered sigh when you pushed him to the couch, your thigh spreading his legs open just enough to make him suddenly crave more.

"Be a good boy and don't move now, yeah?"

You felt his body tensing underneath your touch when you bent over, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Are you getting shy, baby?" You whispered tenderly at him, your tone completely different from before. He blushed deeply, not able to look at you when he nodded.

You raised your body and kissed him softly, a loving gesture that made Jisung feel butterflies not only on his belly, but all over his body.

“You are absolutely and undeniably beautiful, and you have no reason to worry about how you look or sound right now. Just enjoy it, baby.”

He cradled your face and kissed you tenderly.

You smiled. "Sit back and relax. I'll have my fun now."

~Kats, who had to stop because she got blocked and started laughing and giggling.

[bamnamuu]

31. with lee know? <3

if your oky with it can i be /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ anon?

w.count 578 | warnings typos mentions leeches | em’s note so so so sorry it took me so long to respond anon :( and of course, you can be /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ anon <3

You two had been driving for what seemed like forever until your boyfriend Minho said something knocking you out of your daydream, '' we’re here babe.’’ you turned to face him, “Don’t jump into any random bodies of water this time okay.” you replied, causing him to start laughing at your request. “No promises babe!” This was an annual trip for the two of you. It all started about five years ago when your friends decided to go out into the wilderness for a camping trip, and you left with a pretty boys number. ever since then you and Lee know decided you would make it a year-round tradition to go to the place where you met. Last year on your 3rd anniversary Minho and you had just finished setting up the tent, both sweating bullets from the hot sun beaming down onto you. ‘’It's so hot I'm gonna die!’’ you said dramatically while your boyfriend went to the car to get you his tiny fan you had made fun of earlier that day, ''thank you’’ you said while reaching out to take it before he moved it away from your reach ''Nuh uh first apologize to my stupid fan’’ he said with air quotes. ''I'm so so so so sorry I called your fan stupid, can i have it now?’’ you said, giving him doe eyes. ''here.’’ he said, giving you the stupid fan and a sweaty kiss on your head. The two of you finished setting up and hiding in the shade till the sun calmed down, having enough of doing nothing lee know reached for your hand saying ''let's go on a hike!’’ groaning as he helped you up, you got your backpack and went on your way. It's customary for Lee know to point out random things he sees on the trail and tell you things about them, without actually knowing anything about wildlife creatures. ''that is a bird that lost its wings in war.’’ he said pointing at a small animal, ''babe, that's a squirrel.’’ you stated ''Agh same thing !’’ he said offended but then started laughing ''ohh that is the fountain of youth’’ he said looking over at a small waterfall, it's pretty to the point that you actually think he's right. ''I was giving you a 1 out of 100 chance of being right, didn't think you’d beat the odds!’’ rolling his eyes ''of course i’m right love, i come here all the time how else do you think i'm so handsome?’’ ''genetics.’’  ''i'll show you right now.’’ you were confused about what he meant by that till you saw him take off his shoes and walk off the trail to the pool of water and leap into it. You held your breath hoping he didn't hit his head on any rocks until he popped out of the water smiling ''aren't i even more handsome now?’’ He said his hair covering his eyes but he heard you laugh so he's taking it as a yes. ''minho there's a leech on you arm!’’ ''WHAT!’’ you were lying but it was funny to watch him freak out, and splash in the water like a cat. On the walk back to the tent you were holding your cold wet boyfriend who was now upset at your attempt at a joke but with a  couple kisses and millions of apologies later he forgave you on the condition that you had to drive the entire way home.

[gglitch1dd]

Submitted by @lemon-qu33n : Hi sorry to bother u i was just wondering if u had any fic recommendations. Ive read most of yours and i love them! I was just wondering what some of your favorite fics are?

Hey lovey!! You're not bothering me at all. TBH, I swear people maybe its you, have been asking me.

The reason why I haven't been answering is mostly because I really don't have many fic recs OR many favourites. There aren't a lot of writers that cater to my breeding kink or they aren't for the pairings that I like. I did have a few small favourites but most of them are discontinued and a lot of the bigger finished ones, sometimes I don't finish them.

I don't finish them either because the second hand embarrassment gets too big in one scene so I put it down, but I've got a few.

My number one recommendation is the most twisted story I have ever read and I love it so much. It isn't finished but the writing is exquisite and I one day wish to write a yandere/dark fic just like this. Its so disturbing and literally fear inducing, you literally feel like the reader. I love it. Hope it gets finished soon. I'm not a big fan of Katsuki but this one was delicious.

Love of a Hero by TrashPotatoes

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

being a new villain was horrible. Your team left you, and Pro hero Dynamight is hot on your trail. The only questions echoing in your mind are: What does he want? How long does he plan to keep you? And how long do you have before you break completely to his will?

2. This one was amazingly written as well. Kudos to the author!! It's a one-shot though, but honestly, it was a stroke of genius and hopefully it gets a second part to it.

What Once was Mine by Mindninjax

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader x Kirishima Eijiro

Invaders from outer space seek to take over all humans. What happens when you come face to face with the man you love after his assimilation? What happens when he finds out you've been hiding out from the invaders with his best friend who's madly in love with you? And what happens when you realize you may just have feelings for both of them?

3. This one is just pure smut heaven. Indulges the fact that Eijiro is the most HUNG person in the entire of Class A and I love it.

Bad dragon by Makoodles

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader (later chapters include Bakugou Katsuki)

Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated. The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

4. This one was just really cute. I loved it. It was so sweet. fluffy and sweet.

Paws for Panic by Hero234

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

When chaos strikes and quirks collide, one innocent collision turns pro hero Red Riot into an adorable red puppy! Little does (Y/n) know, that the newly turned pup is none other than her favorite hero, and he understands more than he lets on. Unaware of the puppy's true identity, (Y/n) spends the day pampering her fluffy victim.

5. Fans of Viking Kirishima will love this one. It was amazing and honestly touched my heart in all the right ways, sweet fluffy smut.

Consummation by tothestars00

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

You and Kirishima have an arranged marriage, however, it is not a loveless one. Now it is the night after the ceremony. And we all know what happens on your wedding night.

6. Another self indulgent on my man Kirishima and why he's every woman's best dream. INTENSE SMUT THO.

XXL by seraphiq

Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

A giant dragon hybrid walks into your adult toy store looking for some help with a problem. A HUGE one.

But those are just like half of my few. Remember I write because sometimes I don't find what I want to read. But people write amazing things!! Pros to these writers!!<3

[mapileonxputellas]

Your Royal Highness (Mapi Leon x Reader)

Request can be found here x Not the biggest fan of how this turned out but here you go! Any Christmas requests still welcome! 2.5k words.

You didn’t like talking about your family. You were an open book about pretty much anything else but not that, everyone simply knew that you had two brothers who you had a strained relationship with and that your mother had died when you were only a baby.

In fact you never really had anyone special in your life until you met Mapi one fateful afternoon in Barcelona just under three years ago. You’d started off as just friends but the pandemic showed you how much she really meant to you and as soon as you could you made the move a year later.

Of course when Mapi had introduced you to everyone they were all suspicious, you had an amazing penthouse in the centre of Barcelona and always paid for any meals out having only just completed your medical degree. But you just assured them that you had the money for it and wanted to treat those you now considered your own friends.

When you found out your girlfriend as well as all your best friends had been selected for the Euro’s you decided to keep your attendance a surprise, simply sending them off with all your luck. Of course you had a plan in place, having booked your leave from work months in advance to have the chance to see them play live no matter where it was being held and the implications that could have for you.

Then Alexia’s injury happened and it took all your strength to keep this secret as Mapi cried over the phone to you. Something that you could count on your hands the number of times that had happened.

All of which concluded with you sat in a stadium in London, the first time you’d been back in the city for a very long time.

Just a few rows in front of you, you spotted the La Reina herself watching the teams warm up and you couldn’t help yourself in temporarily sitting down next to her.

“I’m so sorry Alexia.” You started off, her head quickly darting in your direction. “Mind if I keep you company?”

“I guess you’ll do.” Even the injury couldn’t stop one of your best friends teasing you. “I’m guessing this is a surprise.”

“Ding ding.”

“She’s going to be so happy to see you. She literally hasn’t stopped talking about you all week, going on to all the Madrid players about how her girlfriend is a doctor, plus how, in her words, ‘hot’ you are.”

“Well there’s no lies there….”

You could see the team were struggling having lost their captain, conceding in the first minute. But they were all warriors and the 4-1 victory was definitely what they deserved.

You always loved watching Maria play but seeing her on this stage almost made you emotional. She dedicated her whole life to football and no-one deserved this more than her in your eyes.

At the end of the game the players were slowly making their way around the pitch, speaking to the fans and you took your position next to the barrier.

The first to notice you was Claudia, who almost did a double take as she made her way over to you.

“Y/N?”

“Surprise.” You couldn’t help but pull the girl into a hug. “Congratulations on the win.”

“Thank you, Mapi didn’t mention you were here.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know yet.”

Slowly one by one the players came and greeted you, even sneaking in a cuddle with Irene’s son when they all gathered around you but the woman you most wanted to see was trailing at the back, trying to speak to all the fans she could possibly see.

As she got closer you could see she was in autopilot mode right now, the smile though it speared real you could tell was fake and the chat was muted. You kept quiet as she spoke to the family next to you but once she was finished and turned your way, the tears immediately sprung into both your eyes.

“You know I’ve flown all this way, can I not even get a hug for that?” You’d barely even finished asking the question before she gathered you in her arms. The barrier between you both long forgotten as she buried her head in your neck, arms tightly wrapped around your waist. “Well done today.”

What felt like hours was merely just a few minutes as you forgot about the world around you. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” She pulled away but kept her arms wrapped around you, connecting your lips before you could reply, a kiss filled with emotion and love.

“I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I was going to stay at home when I could be watching you here.”

“I thought you were working.” She admitted.

“I booked this off months ago, I knew you would be here.” You assured her. “How are you feeling?”

“Things are just so tense right now, I feel like everything is just falling apart around us.” You’d been here sounding board these past few years when it came to the national team, you knew how much she loved playing for the team but you also knew how hard the federation were being on the players. “Plus Alexia is heartbroken.”

“All you need to remember now is just to control your own game.” You assured her, grasping her chin so she wouldn’t break the eye contact. “You can’t fix the problems around you, just be your amazing self and you’ll know you gave it your all.”

“When can I see you again?” She asked noticing the stewards starting to clear the area as the players began to say goodbye to their families around you.

“I’m here as long as you are, I’ll be at the games and if you’ve got any spare time just let me know.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Irene sent you a message when you got home that night, thanking you for the surprise and that all the girls could see an improvement in Mapi’s mood from just seeing you. Just when you thought you’d somehow gone under the radar that evening you got a message.

W: Let me know when you’re free, I think we need to catch up little sister x

…..

It wasn’t until after the group stage had finished that you could see Mapi for more than five minutes after a match. Thankfully their wins against Denmark and Finland were enough to secure them second in the group but that meant facing England, the hosts, in the quarter final.

The last few days had also been pretty stressful for yourself, you knew that coming to England would be risky and stressful but you could never have envisioned the amount they would hound you. They had somehow managed to locate the hotel you were staying at and you could see from the day after the first match there was a high but discreet security presence around you. Of course that meant speaking to your family but you didn’t mention Mapi’s name wanting to tell her yourself. Which you knew would have to be done today.

“Can you speak any English?” Mapi asked as we sat in a boat going down the Thames, your treat for the date afternoon, her arm wrapped around my shoulder as we gently drifted down the river, just the two of us and the worker.

“I wouldn’t say I’m fluent but I know quite a lot.”

“Could you ever see yourself living abroad? Like away from Barca?”

“Barca’s my home and you’re there.” You said. “I guess I’ve actually got something to tell you.”

“I knew you were distracted these past few days.” She said, moving slightly so her body was angled towards me. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you, well from everyone, and I don’t know what’s going to happen now so I need to tell you.”

“What secret?”

“I always told you that I had no family and whilst that is true in some ways, it’s a whole lot more complicated than what I’ve been telling you and everyone else.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She tried to reassure you, noticing the anxiety building up in your mannerisms, gently holding your hand to stop the fidgeting.

“I moved to Barcelona when I was just five months old, I was shipped out here to be brought up by a bunch of maids and butlers. My mother had died a week earlier. My father and brothers would visit occasionally but that stopped when I was around ten years old. Since then I could count the number of times I’ve seen them on one hand.”

“So are you Spanish?”

“I now have a Spanish passport and I would consider myself Spanish but I’m actually English.”

“Shit. Have you spoken to your family since you got here?”

“That’s the thing, they’ve located me.”

“Located you?” Now there is where it gets difficult for you to explain.

“This is probably going to come as a big shock to you but my father is the Prince of Wales, my brothers are Prince William and Harry. My mother was, is, Princess Diana.”

“That’s why you have all that money?”

“They send me an allowance of sorts but I put that towards my bills and treat you all but the majority of it goes to charity. I don’t need that and I don’t really like to think that my life is built around their money when they didn’t even want me.”

“Why did they send you away like that?”

“My mother always wanted me to have a private life and then I think in the grief of everything they couldn’t cope with a baby and they shipped me away.”

“How do you feel about it all now?” She asked, gently gripping my head to rest on her shoulder.

“It’s weird because when they reached out to me it didn’t feel like I was going to meet my family. I met with them yesterday and I just didn’t feel anything. I have my family in Barcelona, in my friends, in you. I’ll always be sad for the family I could have had but I’m more than happy with the life I’ve made.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“When I spoke to them they were keen to make an effort now but I guess we’ll just see, I personally hope the news never gets out. That’s why I wanted to tell you though, I want you to find out from me and I’ll tell the rest of the team as well.”

“They were the ones that missed out. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

“Wow is this Maria getting soppy?”

“Shut up. You know I hate that name as well.”

“Not when it’s me.” You were the only person she would allow to call her Maria, first it started off as a joke but it developed into your own little thing.

“Just to confirm who will you be supporting at the match now I know you have connections with the enemy?”

“Spain Maria, always.”

…..

That night Mapi managed to sneak you back into the team meal to see the players before the game in a few days’ time. Thankfully they had split off into smaller groups and this was just the friends that you had in the Spanish team from Barca.

“Where did you two go today?” Claudia asked as we sat down. “I’ve literally not seen you all day.”

“Aww did you miss us.” You teased. “I actually took her on a boat cruise down the Thames, just us two.”

“You little romantic.” Patri teased. “Turning all British to see the sights.”

“Yeah about that….” It felt like now was the right time to tell all your closest friends. “I’ve actually got something to tell you all.”

“You’re pregnant?” Claudia shouted.

“Shut up Pina.”

“You’re getting married?” Aitana added.

“No this is actually about me.” You felt Mapi grab your hand underneath the table, softly tracing patterns on the back of your palm. “I want to be honest with you all and since we’re in England a lot of things have happened. Since Mapi introduced me to you all, you’ve all been so welcoming and took me into your little family and I couldn’t be more grateful for you all.”

You took a sip of water just to calm the nerves, receiving a reassuring smile from Mapi.

“I know you hate that I spend my money on you but you really don’t need to worry about that because… well because I’m part of the British royal family.”

“What?”

“Shit.” Patri almost began to choke on her food but composed herself. “You’re going to need to explain this one a bit more.”

“So basically I was taken away to Barcelona as a child, I’ve grew up there since I was a baby but my father is Prince Charles.”

“Do we have to call you Princess Y/N now?” Irene teased, noticing your tense posture and bringing the conversation back down.

“Yeah Mapi you’re actually dating a real-life Princess.” Claudia added. “We’re all going to have to bow to you now.”

You couldn’t be more thankful to the way they just brushed over the news. You knew there would be more questions in the future but now maybe wasn’t the right place to ask them. “No bowing and no titles. You’re my family and as much as I might share a blood with those people they have nothing over you lot. Even though you’re all crazy and you drive me insane sometimes you’ve all given me a family that I could only dream of.”

“We all love you too.” Irene said. “Just as long as you keep our Mapi happy.”

“Always.”

“Did Mapi know?”

“I told her today, a lot’s happened since I got here and I just want to be honest with you all.”

“Wait!” Aitana almost shouted. “Does this mean you’re going to be supporting the enemy? We can’t have a traitor among us.”

“Don’t worry I’ll still be team Spain.”

“Good.”

Even if they didn’t win that match against Spain, falling short after an injury time winner, they still all did you proud. You made sure to remind Mapi of that as you shared a hug after the match, another barrier between you and fans all around you, yet it felt like you were the only two people in the World.

“You know England may have won today but you’ve got something they’ll never have.” You whispered in her ear.

“Oh yeah?”

“My heart.”

“I love you so much and no matter what happens with your family and everything, you’ll always have me. I couldn’t care less if you only had a euro to your name, you’re everything I want.”

“Mapi…”

“Maybe this could give you a new nickname as well, I think Princesa is quite fitting.”

“Stop…”

[sgiandubh]

You know nothing, Jon Snow

It's been a short night and a hot summer day in here. But I just received the last of the goods in my secondary inbox and am still unpacking, pondering and putting the data into context.

Work with me:

To begin somewhere, this is the exact content of the (in)famous Shamrock Anon submission to this blog, as delivered almost 23 hours ago:

Put yourselves in my shoes and read with me: "the Irish based drinks company (not the one accessible to fans) is solely owned by him and DF".

An Irish company? "Not accessible to fans?" Owned only by these two people and not her, on her turf? Now that could have been a nuke, because hello, where is the logic in all this, and who does that, and yes, why?

By the time I wrote my brief Shamrock Anon post, in the hope of luring this person to share more, the same message had already been delivered to at least two other shipper blogs. That would make three of us: the controversial newbie (I am not blind, but I am not cantankerous either), the respected veteran sleuth and Super Dispatch, with what I believe to be the intent of pushing an agenda of sorts. I chose not to publish Anon, because: 1) I needed more and yes, I needed to check and 2) I felt there was something bizarre with all this.

@luhafraser published it and I am truly relieved they did. I posted an update that apparently got even more people confused, and carried on with it. It did not take off the pressure (Anons begging, pleading and taunting went straight to the bin), but it gave me time to start looking.

It took me exactly two minutes and a half to find the Irish company's name and registration number, as visible and published on the FMN gin webpage (https://www.forgetmenot.com/ and always, always read the small print).

So long for "not accessible to fans", BS Anon:

Next stop, the Irish Company Registration Office's website (https://core.cro.ie/), where things went impeccably smooth. FMN Drinks is an Irish company, registered as "Limited", which would translate as Public Limited Company (plc) in the UK:

Getting more data required a paid search and I stopped to ponder. Really did. Price was a trifle, but that was not really my problem. So I sat on it during the night: it is something I always do when I find myself uneasy or unsure about something.

By noon today, local time, I mumbled "oh, what the hell", crossed myself and pushed send:

It took 15 minutes to get five of the documents and two more hours and 45 minutes to get the Letter of Status, certified by a living, breathing Irish public servant in that inbox:

So (in)famous Shamrock Anon, here is my answer to you:

If you think a company specialized in the distilling and rectifying of spirits, with 100 (one hundred) issued shares, worth 1 euro each and with a zero euro declared account balance since last December is proof of capitalist world domination, you are an idiot, Anon. You lured me down that rabbit hole with the preposterous idea that C was not a part of this PO box company - which she is, as one of its four appointed Directors - to try and prove shippers are stupid. Which we aren't.

At face value, this is nothing to write home about. But I said yesterday the devil is in the details and was not disappointed, because you clearly are sloppy (again?) Anon and boy, you do have an untrained eye. It's almost like me when prompted to read somebody's blood test results, you know?

I am now faced with a dilemma: I either buy a cork board, thread and pins and start a trip to Cuckooland, trying to navigate my way across trademarks and trails of companies, and such other niceties that are boring as death. Or, I look at this completely uncalled for embarrassment of riches and let the dots connect themselves, in time.

I always steered my course according to this French proverb: dans le doute, s'abstenir. When in doubt, do nothing. Making sense of a document posted on a real estate company website is one thing. Publishing such documents, which are readily available for the private use of anyone with a credit card, and prematurely discussing them is a personal red line I am not willing to cross.

It would be pushing an agenda and, especially right now (*promo*), writing the script. Circus might be in town, but I am not one of the clowns.

Oh, and Anon: a company is an evolving entity people get into, then get out of and even maybe get back to, at some point in time. A business project is by no means any sort of evidence of relationship/marital status.

[honeytama]

I’ll Take You On

Matt Dierkes x Musician!Fem!Reader

A/N: A little one shot based off a thought I had the other day. I cleaned it up and included it in the fic. Also, tysm to @exitwoundsx for matching my freak and sharing her Matt thoughts with me to make this!

Summary: Matt physically defends you from a nasty group of men at your impromptu meet and greet. The sight turns you on, and he notices. He can’t help but give you exactly what you want.

Content and Warnings: Some sfw and smut 18+, physical altercation, sexting, masturbation, use of “daddy”, oral (receiving), fingering, raw p in v, creampie, Matt being insufferable ofc

Word Count: 2.4k

You’re touring with your band alongside Bad Omens. After a show one night, you decide to stay outside behind the venue to talk with fans and take pictures.

Matt happens to be off to the side watching you laugh and smile with a bunch of people wearing your merch. He’s so proud of you and he loves the way you throw your head back in laughter at some of the things fans say to you, but he would never admit that.

It’s fun for everyone until a small group of guys approach you. You’re sweet to them, as always, believing they just wanted a pictures, but they start to flirt, get handsy, and they won’t let go of your wrist.

Matt watches you grow more uncomfortable and rushes to you after he hears, “We paid so much money to be here, you could at least give us your number… or a good time,” come out of one of the guys mouths.

“The fuck did you just say? Get the fuck away from her before I beat your fucking ass,” Matt asserts.

You step back in surprise and watch as Matt shoves the loser in the chest causing the him to stumble against his friends. The guy’s friends push Matt back until he loses it and starts throwing punches to their cheekbones.

Honestly, it turns you on watching him fight for you, but your thrills aren’t worth him getting arrested.

“Matty, c’mon!” You put your hands on his shoulders to pull him out. He finds your face and sees you’re okay before backing out of the fight with you. He wraps his arm around your waist, leading you onto your tour bus.

“Damn, Matt, you’re like my own personal bodyguard,” you laugh, coming down from your adrenaline rush.

Matt shows off by flexing his biceps for you, “Anything for you, Y/N. Just say the word. I haven’t got to use these in a hot minute.”

Fuck, your eyes get wide and you look away to hide the hot blush that creeps up your neck to your cheeks.

“Welp, goodnight, Matty,” you rush to the back of the bus to get ready for bed.

“Don’t call me that,” he points at you before heading toward the door.

A feeling causes him to stop in his tracks and linger. He turns to you and catches the moment you pull your pants down your legs thinking he’s already left.

Blood rushes to his cock and he saves the view of your thighs and ass for later. Matt leaves quietly with you none the wiser.

—

Later that night in your bunk, you’re unable to sleep and your phone buzzes in your hand as you scroll through Twitter.

Matt’s name pops up at the top of your screen with the message, Attachment: 1 Image.

Excited at the thought of talking with him after tonight, you quickly open his message and are met with a surprise.

I thought you might appreciate this, Matt texts.

A selfie. Him, shirtless, in his underwear in the mirror of the Bad Omens tour bus… flexing his biceps and chest just for you. Matt’s dark eyes make direct contact with the camera.

Your eyes trail down his chest to his groin and you can’t but zoom in to the prominent dick print in his gray underwear.

You startle when he sends another text, almost right away.

See you in the morning.

Oh, fuck, you think.

You lie there in bed for what feels like an eternity just thinking about why he sent this to you.

Do you compliment him? Should you send him something back? Is he mocking you for ogling him earlier? Is he already asleep and it didn’t matter what you did, anyway?

You calm yourself before peaking out of the curtain of your bunk to check on the rest of your band. The coast is clear as everyone is fast asleep.

Facing your phone camera to your chest, you adjust the neckline of your tank top to expose the tops of your breasts and push them in as much as possible with your biceps. The flash of your phone goes off and you're left with a glorious picture of your cleavage.

You send him the picture immediately, knowing you’d back out of it if you thought about it anymore.

Your chest is so hot. Do you like mine? You text.

You wait… and wait. Your breath hitches when the three dots pop up on your screen to signify him responding.

Take it off, and then I’ll let you know, he texts.

You bite your lip and your hand mindlessly makes it to your nipple to roll it in between your fingers.

Fuck it.

You clumsily sit up in your bunk to pull your tank off of your torso. With your tits now bare and nipples peeking from the bus’ chilled air conditioning, you lie back down and ready your camera again.

You hit send.

You follow directions well, huh? Nice tits, he sends back.

He sends you two other photos.

The first one is a picture of him in his bunk, still in his underwear, but with his hand wrapping tight around his clothed, hard shaft. The second is a photo of the same hand underneath the front of his underwear grabbing himself.

You liked that I stuck up for you earlier tonight. Couldn’t keep your eyes off of me, Matt messages.

You throw your phone to the side and yank your pajama shorts down to your ankles. Your hands trail down your chest to your pubic mound as you spread your legs. Your fingers press languid circles on your clit over your panties. You point your phone at your fingers dipping underneath to your clit and the photo captures the prominent wet spot forming on your underwear.

Perfect.

Mhm, thank you for protecting my pussy from those scary boys. Very Daddy of you, you teasingly send with your photo.

You wait some more, slightly proud of yourself that he might be writhing in his bed fifty feet away from you.

You gulp at his next response.

A video. The thumbnail is his cock in his right hand and his cotton briefs pulled down just enough for his dick to be released.

You press play and the video overtakes the surface of your screen. Matt’s pink tip is slick with his arousal. He strokes himself and with every stroke, his precum makes a clicking sound in his hand.

“Y/N, oh, fuck,” he moans, “That pussy is fucking mine.”

You’re bold for moaning my name out loud, you text back.

Nobody’s here. They got a hotel for the night and I’m watching the bus. Come over, he responds.

Should you? You think.

Now, he sends it right after.

You leave the rest of your clothes in your bed, get down from your bunk, and grab your silk robe that hangs on the bathroom door.

You tiptoe through the bus to not wake the others and you put on your slippers before rushing out into the alleyway.

It was a short wait at the Bad Omens’ tour bus door. Matt opened it for you and pulled you in quickly before pulling the door closed and locking it.

You two stood in their tour bus in silence in front of one another; both of you vulnerable in just a simple garment. His boxer briefs and your robe.

Matt steps toward you and puts his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into your first kiss with him. He’s rough, but you gradually meet his pace. He pokes his tongue through your lips to test the water and you meet his tongue amicably. You step forward between his legs and grind on this thigh that’s between yours.

“Why have you never said you liked me?” You ask in between kisses.

“Who says I like you?” He groans.

Matt’s hands explore your body for the first time. They travel under the curve of your ass, down your back, to your hips and breasts, again, and again. Until his hands come to the front of your robe to undo its bow tie.

He pulls away to watch your robe fall off your shoulders into a puddle on the floor.

“So fucking pretty,” he whispers before falling to his knees in front of you. He switches his hat backward before dipping his face to your core. “You keep it wet just for me?”

That stupid hat is still on, you think, you hate to admit that you loved that quirk about him.

Matt lifts your leg over his shoulder and you grab his head for balance.

“Matt, oh, God!” You throw your head back and moan.

He attaches his lips to your clit; he sucks and also takes the time to give your clit meticulous circles with his tongue. His open hand is brought to your pussy lips, rubbing your arousal around before dipping into your cunt with two fingers. You adjust to them quickly and he uses a come hither motion while pumping in and out of you.

The sound of your moans and pussy squelching fills the dark, empty bus. You attempt to grind on his face, but he holds your hips in place.

He looks up at you through his eyelashes. “Don’t drip on my floors, Y/N,” he asserts.

“Matt,” you moaned his name with furrowed brows. You despised how much you liked him, yet all you wanted was to follow his instructions.

Suddenly, Matt pulls away and stands. You whine from being left empty and he silences you with a kiss. His hands attach themselves to your hips and gradually push you to the black leather couch on the side of the bus.

You sit and are met with the sight of the tent made by Matt's hard cock in his briefs.

“I would have you suck me off but, what I want…” he brings his waistband down and his dick springs out, “Is to fuck you until I’m all you can think about.”

You nod, “I want you so bad.”

“Good,” he smiles. He leans over and presses you onto the couch with a passionate kiss. Matt folds your legs to your chest and holds your thighs down with his hands.

Matt rubs his cock in between your folds repeatedly, only slightly entering his tip into your hole with each pass.

“Matt, no more teasing,” you breathe out.

“What did you call me earlier, Y/N?” He tilts his head tauntingly.

“What?” You ask, dizzy from his hard tip passing back and forth over your clit.

Oh, you think, Fuck him.

“Tell me who’s pussy this is,” He commands.

You moan before responding, “Yours, Daddy.”

How did you find yourself in this situation? You think.

“Good girl,” he smiles while pressing his length into you. With the position you’re in, he takes long, balls-deep strokes, but not as fast as you would like.

“Fuck me, please,” you moan.

“Oh? You want more?” He taunts, again.

“Yes, please,” you whine. “I need your cock, Daddy,”

He grants your wish and presses your legs deeper into your breasts while continuing with faster thrusts. The sound of his hips slapping your cunt bounces off the walls of the bus.

You chant “please” and “thank you” and “fuck”, so much that your throat becomes dry.

“This pussy is mine, all mine,” Matt moans. “No other man is fortunate enough to have you.”

You recall earlier that night when he fought the group of men that were tormenting you. Slowly, you realize that his actions were not him being chivalrous, but that he just wanted you all to himself.

Tears well up in your eyes at how good his cock feels against your walls. His tip hits the most perfect spot inside each time he plunges into you.

“I want you to cum so badly, Daddy, please keep going,” you cry.

Matt pauses and gives you a dark look. He allows his cock to exit before asking, “Where should my cum go?”

You smile up at him and pat the entrance to your pussy with your open hand, “Here.”

He smiles proudly and your heart melts as his eyes’ crow’s feet show in the moonlight.

He presses into you again and continues to please you, happily. The squelching of his cock pressing your arousal into your cunt gets louder and you realize your time to cum is near, too.

“Cum on my dick, Y/N,” Matt notices, too.

“Ooo, yes, Daddy,” you moan while making direct eye contact with him. The rush of your orgasm flows over you and mentally you thank him for his cock in ecstasy.

With you, he spills his full load into your pussy. He writhes and yells out your name with his release.

You feel the heat from his cum gradually overtaking your insides. You whine when he finally withdraws from you and watch as he gives a few last pumps to his cock to get every last drop of his cum onto your weeping hole.

“Hold still,” he turns his hat back to its regular position and quickly goes toward his bunk. You lie there on your back with his cum deep inside of you.

He returns soon after with his phone in his hand. He stands in front of you with his phone pointed at your used pussy.

Realizing his plan, you bite your lip and push out as much of his load out of you. You hear it drip onto the polished hardwood of the bus.

Matt, with wide eyes, snaps a flash photo of your creampie.

“So fucking cute,” he grunts. “But, God, damn it, I told you not to drip on my floors,” he laughs.

“Oh, fuck off, Matty,” you blush and close your legs.

—

The afternoon after your late-night tryst with Matt, your band is performing a sound check for that night’s show.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you stop playing your guitar to answer it.

Again, it was a text, from Matt.

Attachment: 1 Image.

You open it mindlessly, but immediately hug your phone to your chest after reading his message.

It was the photo of your filled, sopping cunt. His cum oozing out of your hole.

He texts you, Missing this. Let’s do it again soon.

Your phone buzzes again, Also, you sound great. Or is that just me being great at what I do?

You look up from your phone over to the sound deck across the floor.

Matt smirks teasingly with his phone in his hand.

You give him an annoyed look and roll your eyes.

He sends one last message, I meant in bed by the way. When you're moaning on my dick :-)

[lateraniansweets]

02 || Blue Hour

<- prev || next ->

ao3 || little sun m.list

warnings: non-graphic descriptions of injuries, blood,

notes: reader forces herself to call satoru 'gojo' as a way to distance herself from him but she tends to slip up.

“What’s this?”  You ask, wiping the sweat off your brow,

“His phone number.” 

"I don’t need it." 

Nishitani sighs and pulls up a seat next to you, "I know that you don’t want anything to do with jujutsu anymore but…" his eyes flicker to the crib where Wataru slept and then to you, “____, he deserves to know.”

You purse your lips, observing every crease on the piece of paper instead of the ten digits written on it. Nishitani’s right, he of all people deserves to know. You should tell him, you should but you’re a coward, a coward who ran away, a coward who left one of the few people who cared for her to die.

A quick prick of pain on the inside of your palm.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

You open your palm, crimson crescent-shaped wounds greeting you. Nishitani places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “____…” he trails off, an exhausted look in his eyes as he runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair. 

In the years you’ve known the man he never looked like this, shoulders sagging, the weariness that came with age evident in his stature. He taps the crumpled piece of paper, “You should at least keep this around.”

You did keep that number, had it saved in your contacts and never bothered to put it under any sort of contact name because you just couldn't bring yourself to. By now, you know those ten digits by heart having spent countless nights staring at that damn number trying to gather the courage to. Just. Call.

You never did.

You never dialled that damn number once.

God you should’ve, you should’ve.

If you called, if he knew, if S-Gojo knew Wataru wouldn’t be in this damn train struggling to stay alive while you lay on the floor broken and useless. 

Black spots dance across your already vision as you wheeze out an exhale. Every breath you take is a struggle. You’ve got a broken rib, maybe two or more and a concussion, you're not sure how bad your injuries are. 

Moving hurts.

Thinking hurts.

You want to sleep the pain away, to sleep this bad dream away but you can’t. You can’t sleep, you can’t. You’ll never wake up if you do. 

You’ll die.

You can’t die.

Not right now while Wataru’s in danger, not while Wataru’s trying to fend off a Grade 1 curse with a nascent and untrained technique. He’s crying, calling for you as he blocks another attack from the curse with infinity. It’s unstable. He won’t be able to keep this up. 

There’s a pregnant pause as the curse halts its attacks. 

It’s sensing something or someone with an uncomfortably large amount of cursed energy by the car door. Wataru takes notice too and cries out for help. The pure unadulterated fear and desperation in his voice makes your heart clench. Dreadfully, you knew in your gut it could only be one thing.

 A sorcerer. 

You should’ve expected it. They wouldn’t just let this strong curse roam around in the heart of whatever city you’re in.

The curse roars and flings a gooey tentacle-like limb in your direction, sending you flying. The last thing you hear is Wataru’s horrified shriek as you land on your side with a resonating crash before your world fully fades to black.

—

Satoru has never been a fan of hospitals with their tendency to be a hotbed for curses and sterile smells. Hospitals tend to be in this weird state of liminality that being in one felt both understimulating and understimulating. 

He adjusts himself on the steel chair, careful not to wake the boy—Wataru, next to him. The kid had insisted on waiting for his mom to wake up but after a cup of hot chocolate, he was out like a light.

Cool air hits his skin as he undoes the bandages covering his eyes. Satoru rolls up the white cloth, letting his eyes fully adjust to the sudden surge of information. You on the bed, Wataru beside him, the curses inside the hospital and so much more. It’s more overstimulating as usual, that’s good…?

He sets his eyes on you, taking in every detail from the length of your hair to the minute waves of your cursed energy. You’ve barely changed.

He never thought he’d see you again, not since you left and not like that. 

His mind’s still reeling, still trying to fully process the sight of you on the floor half-dead, surrounded by corpses and in a pool of blood he could only pray wasn’t yours while a boy who frighteningly looked like his younger self cried out for you.

He glances at Wataru leaning against him as he sleeps.

“Mister, m-my mom!” the boy sobs, tears flowing down his cheeks, “S-she’s–” he lets out a wail, unintentionally piercing through Satoru’s infinity with his own to grab his hand.

God, his stomach dropped the moment the boy uttered that single word.

Mom. 

Wataru called you ‘mom’. 

Wataru’s your son.

And god, he’s–he’s– 

It shakes him to his core but there’s no denying it, not with the boy inheriting his family’s cursed technique. The puzzle pieced itself together, leaving him with the answer to who Wataru is and a question entailing a thousand more.

Why didn’t you tell him?

Did you know when you left?

If you knew, why did you leave?

He knows he won’t get any sort of answer until you wake and so he waits but patience was never Satoru’s strong point. In less than an hour he had abandoned his seat and began pacing around the room while ignoring the buzzing of his work phone. 

Sometime around four a.m. you stir, letting out a pained groan as a nurse replaced your IV. Muttering something incomprehensibly you try to sit up in a panic, only to be stopped by the nurse just before she makes her leave. 

“...taru?” You call out in Satoru’s direction, voice hoarse.

“I’m not Wataru,” You freeze at the sound of his voice, shock evident on your face.  He forces out a chuckle and smiles, trying to hide the nervousness bubbling in his chest as he makes his way to your side. 

“It’s been a while, huh,  ____.” He greets, sitting himself on the foot of your bed.

“G-gojo?! ” You manage to stutter out, a stray lock of hair falling over your face, Satoru fights back the urge to tuck it behind your ear and simply gives you a half smile. 

“We need to talk.”

You blink and rub your eyes, making sure you aren’t hallucinating or that this was some sort of near-death dream. A quick pinch confirms that you are in fact alive meaning that he’s here, he’s really here.

You never expected to wake up, hell, you never even expected to make it out of the train alive. From the moment you shielded Wataru with your body from the panicked stampede of people trying to get away from the curse they’re unable to fully perceive, you knew you weren’t making it out. 

Five years away from jujutsu society never made you forget just how weak you are. Foolishly, though, you thought you could protect Wataru from the same world that chewed you out and spat out a shadow of yourself.

You were wrong.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

You should’ve known that you wouldn’t be strong enough to protect your boy.

But here you were, alive and Wataru–shit, where’s Wataru? You whip your head around the room, trying to catch any sign of Wataru, only to find none. Of course, he wouldn't be here. If you’re alive then—one look at Wataru and—

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” Satoru taps lightly at your shoulder.

“Wataru.” you wheeze out, “w-where’s Wataru?” It’s getting hard to breathe. Everything’s too much, too loud and too bright but–“Breathe, ____.”

Right. 

Breathe. Just Breathe.

In and out. In and out. Inhale. Exhale.

Calm down.

Calm down.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo says, hand falling back to his side, “Wataru’s right there,” he gestures behind him, leaning slightly to the side, “See?”  Behind him, you spot tufts of white hair poking out from a blanket cocoon lying sideways in a makeshift bed made up of two steel chairs. 

Your shoulders sag, relieved. Wataru’s safe, he’s alright, they didn’t take him away.

“We need to talk,” S-Gojo repeats after a long silence but both of you are reticent, hesitant to address the elephants in the room so you stare, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

And then finally.

“He–Wataru’s mine, isn’t he?” There’s an uncharacteristic desperation in his voice like isn’t asking to know but to anchor himself.

Breathe. 

Just breathe.

“...yes,”  You confirm, squeezing the fleshy part of the inside of your thumb, “he’s yours, Gojo.” You swear you saw his shoulders stiffen for a second at the use of his last name.

“How…how old is he?” 

“He just turned five.”

Gojo hums, turning to Wataru and then back to you. 

Silence fills the room again. 

The air becomes tense as Gojo stares at you, a realization dawning on him. “____…” he starts, slowly turning to you as he does, “Be honest with me. When you left did you–”

“No.” You cut him off, forcing yourself to look him in the eyes, hands balling into fists, “ I didn’t know and knowing I was pregnant wouldn’t have stopped me from leaving, Gojo.” 

Hurt is written all over Gojo as he looks at you, blue eyes desperate for something, anything. You avoid his gaze, ashamed even if it is the truth. No, you’re ashamed because it is the truth.

You’ve imagined this conversation thousands of times never thinking you’d actually get to have it. Ever since Wataru opened his eyes the thought of death–your death, was constant. Be it by the hands of a curse, curse user, sorcerer or whatever else you knew you’d end up dying somehow. 

Gojo’s still looking at you, mouth opening to say something only to end up saying nothing. The desperation in his eyes morphs into resignation. He had that same look in his eyes the night you decided to leave everything behind.

Briefly, you wonder if he held the same look in his eyes the day he walked you down those stairs. 

Gojo takes a deep breath, eyes turning to the window. “I tried to hide it.” He says, changing the topic.

The scenery outside had become a dark blue instead of pitch black. How long has this talk been going on?  How long had the two of you been peering at each other’s eyes, trying to make sense of the other?

“Hide what?” 

“Wataru’s cursed energy residuals,” He continues, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out a roll of bandages to fiddle with, “It’s a lot like mine, with a few differences here and there. Hopefully, the clean-up crew would mistake it for mine. It’s a bit of a gamble but–”

“It would be useless.” 

“No, it wouldn’t. I made sure to cover the all residuals up.”

“Covering it up with your own wouldn’t hide traces of a cursed technique. They’d know that someone else with a large amount of curse energy was there before you even got on the train,” You know that all too well, having spent most of your teens dealing with post-exorcism messes. “The clean-up crew will notice. At best they’d write it off as weird, an aftereffect of your technique or something. At worst, they’d include it in the incident report and would be investigated.”

“It will be investigated,” he corrects, jaw tense, “A curse just killed a bunch of people on a shinkansen. The train was stopped in Kyoto station for an hour because the team sent to exorcise it took their sweet time.” 

He’s frustrated, you note, probably because the higher–ups decided to throw the job at him. Gojo, apparently, still hates taking on missions that weren’t originally his. Well, not that you could blame him for it.

“I’m writing a report too. I can pull some strings, make sure that any word on some weird residuals at the scene stays as a footnote. ” His eyes meet yours again. Gone were the hurt, desperation and resignation in them, replaced simply by a spark that screamed trust me in all six of them. It’s something you never thought you’d see in Gojo Satoru, the young god who once upon a time insisted on getting convenience soft serve–your treat, after every mission and called you in the middle of fights. 

He places a large hand on your knee, “But it’d only be a temporary solution.”

“I know…” Wataru was an anomaly among anomalies. A second set of six-eyes shouldn’t exist but here he was.

“The higher–ups and clans will find out about him sooner or later.”

“I know…” You repeat, looking down at your hands, still curled into fists.

“It’s okay though,” he adds and you whip your head up, “what?”

“We have time.”

“What?”

“The report.” Gojo clarifies, leaning closer. “It’ll buy us time.” 

Us?

Gojo’s close, close enough that you could feel his warmth of breath on your face. “____, do you trust me?” he whispers, deep blues trained on you.

“I…” You did, once upon a time, you did, you believed his claim of being the strongest and his promise to protect you.

 And where did that get you? Half–dead in some collapsed basement holding her hand.

But…

You can’t do this alone. This would just be the beginning, a stroke of bad luck corrected by a stroke of good (?) luck. Next time you and Wataru won’t be so lucky. 

Other than that Wataru, was bound to enter jujutsu society at some point. There’d be clan politics involved and you, a woman who barely counted as a Grade 4 sorcerer would be even more powerless than you already are. 

With Gojo on your side, with Gojo backing Wataru up, your boy would have a fighting chance against those scummy old men who called themselves elders.

Maybe you’ll come to regret this, maybe this is where your luck runs out but fuck it. There was no better option than to trust the so-called strongest again.

You’ll take the gamble.

You’ll learn how to trust him again.

“I...I  do.”

“Good.” He smiles, tucking that stray lock of hair behind your ear before pulling away. It’s not until the last of the warmth from Gojo’s fingertips leaves that you realise something.

His infinity was off.

unrelated notes:

thoughts? opinions? violent reactions? sajdfnfasf okay anyways I completely forgot about the nurse halfway through editing and forgot she was even there.

NEXT CHAPTER MIGHT TAKE A BIT BECAUSE AAAAAAA I AM DOOMED I GOTTA PLAN LIKE A SCHOOL ACTIVITY, DO TWO RESEARCH PROJECTS (cramming a lab report as i publish this) AND THEN SOME MORE HHHHHHHHH BUT I PROMISE I WILL UPDATE I PROMISE JADFASDFKJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

okay anyways i went to a goat farm and bloated myself by eating too much of the free ice cream teehee.

[oncasette]

hi roma !! congrats on 500 <33! could i ask for a [THE DANCE STUDIO—send me two numbers (1-100) and a character and i’ll write you a song blurb based off my spotify ] for andrew neiman - numbers 16 and 24 pls! tysm:))

TRAINING WHEELS melanie martinez

nsfw!

you knew fucking your best friend was a mistake. probably the biggest one you could’ve made with the feelings you’d been harboring for him since you were seven.

knew it was an even bigger mistake when you kept letting it happen.

you could blame it on the heat of the moment the first time. blame it on the shots you’d taken and the history you’d had together. but by the seventh, you couldn’t blame it on your sobriety. no, you were in too deep, at this point. his fuck buddy that was disastrously and hopelessly in love with him.

“you’re fucking stupid, you know that,” he chuckles softly against the skin of your knee, pressing a barely there kiss against the freshly applied bandaid. “who falls up the stairs? concrete ones, too.”

“a lot of people, actually- oh-“ your tirade is cut short as his kisses trail higher beneath the skirt of your dress, as his tongue licks a stripe up the inside of your thigh.

“you gonna let me take care of you?” he asks, hot breath fanning across your cloth panties.

“thought you were done playing doctor, neiman. told me so yourself when we were five,” you said, though you didn’t fight him when his palms nudged your knees further apart.

“always gotta carry bandaids with me, anyway. might as well be your doctor.” his nose nudges your clit through the fabric.

god your brain is so empty, so fuzzy with need and want and how much you like him. and how much it’s killing you to only have him like this.

“want you, drew,” you gasp as he licks a stripe up your still clothed cunt.

“i know, baby,” he hums.

it’s better to have him like this than not have him at all.

[just-another-spg-blog]

Making myself proud trying to learn the best SPG song

[a-simp-named-slickback]

Star-Crossed | Basim x OC | Part 1

This is the first chapter of my AC Mirage fan fiction featuring my OC Nashira, an astronomer’s daughter who Basim befriends in his youth.

Basim dashed through the streets of Abbasiyah, holding a purse of coins tight against his chest. He knew swiping money from that merchant in the bazaar was a risky move, but it was a risk he was willing to take at the time.

To the merchant, this amount of money was nothing compared to the rest of his fortune, but to Basim it could buy him food for the next couple of days, maybe even a week if he was frugal enough with it.

He panted as he ducked and dodged through the crowds. He glanced behind him, seeing the guards still hot on his trail. He had hoped to lose them by now but they persisted. At this rate he would soon tire and slow down, making it easy for them to capture him. If that happened, not only would he lose the money but his hand as well.

Basim kept his eyes peeled for any place he could hide: a dark alleyway, a crate, an abandoned home, anything. He knew Baghdad like the back of his hand. One learns a lot about a city when you’re always running away from someone. Soon the courtyard of the House of Wisdom came into view with its luscious gardens and crowds of scholars providing ample places to hide. As he sharply turned a corner his eyes landed on an open window with thin curtains billowing in the breeze. Without thinking, he bolted for the opening, jumping inside.

He landed with a huff, looking behind him to see if they followed. A barrage of footsteps ran past, growing fainter with each step until Basim could barely hear them anymore.

He let out a breath “One step ahead, as usual.” Basim thought to himself as he slipped the purse into his satchel. Now that that was over, Dervis would be expecting him for work soon. He’d need to head back to Anbar before it got dark, and Basim was a long way from home. He turned on his heel to dash away for good.

Just as his heartbeat returned to normal, he felt himself collide into something with an impact strong enough to send him straight to the floor. A thud rang out in the area, and Basim quickly scurried to the nearby wall where the window was. He looked up to see what, or rather who he bumped into, feeling his heartbeat skyrocket when he spotted a girl staring wide eyed back at him.

A girl, who with one scream, could summon the guards.

With a gasp, she quickly stood up, backing away from Basim. Her golden brown eyes bore into his. She looked quite young, if he had to guess she was somewhere near his age. Judging by the brilliant blue salwar kameez and the fine silk scarf around her neck, they lived very different lives. A number of scrolls and books were scattered around her, no doubt having fallen because of their collision.

He looked around to figure where he was. In his haste to get away from the guards, he hadn’t realized he’d made his way to the library. There were rows and rows of bookshelves and desks surrounding him. It didn’t seem like anyone else was in this room except for the two of them. That was good; even if she did scream he’d have time to dash before she could point him out.

Suddenly a guard came to the window, “You, girl! Have you seen a boy running through here?” He asked her.

Basim shrank from where the guard was, hoping he wouldn’t look down and see him cowering below. Still, he instinctually positioned himself so he’d be ready to run at a moment's notice if he needed to.

The girl glanced down at Basim, “I…um…” She watched as he silently pleaded with her to not tell the guard his whereabouts, but Basim saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

This part of the library held old tomes from scholars in the past, including texts from around the known world requested by the Caliph himself. Therefore, this room in the library wasn’t open to everyone. They had to have special permission from the head Scholar, which this boy clearly didn’t have.

Still, he was just a boy. A frightened looking one at that.

“Please,” He mouthed to her, as if to beg her to keep quiet about his whereabouts.

She looked up at the guard and cleared her throat, “I saw him go that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction and the guard darted that way in an instant.

The girl craned her head out the window, making sure he was long gone. She crouched down to meet Basim’s eyes, “It’s safe to come out now.” She said just above a whisper, as if she were scared the guard could somehow hear her.

Immediately, he let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding in. That's when eyes landed on the scattered books and scrolls along the floor, no doubt a result of his colliding with this girl. Feeling guilty, he crawled forward to gather them for her.

He cleared his throat, “Thank you…for not giving me away.” He said, looking up at her.

The girl gathered some books herself, “There is no need to thank me. I’m happy to help.”

The two of them carefully gathered the books as a silence hung over them. Every now and then

Basim would steal a glance at the girl next to him. The evening sunlight cast its golden glow on her, illuminating her soft features. Scattered across her face were a series of moles, the most prominent one just above her left eyebrow. Her dark curls billowed out of her scarf, framing her full cheeks.

She glanced his way as well and Basim quickly averted his gaze, realizing he had been staring at this girl for some time. He only hoped she could not see the redness spread across his cheeks. He shook off the feeling, choosing to instead turn his attention to the writings he held in his hands. He read the titles of some of the books as they both stood up.

He gasped when he saw a familiar name, “These are all writings by al-Khwarizmi?” he asked her.

The girl nodded, “I was just grabbing these for my father. al-Khwarizmi was his mentor. Do you know of him?” She asked.

“Know of him? I knew him,” He grinned, “When I was little I used to sneak into this very library and he would teach me mathematics and astronomy.” Basim smiled as fond memories of his time with that old man filled his mind again.

The girl's eyes widened, “Really? That's amazing!” She marveled, “What was he like?”

“Brilliant,” Basim answered, “Not very patient when I made mistakes, but he was kind nonetheless.” He looked down and realized he was still holding on to her books.

He cleared his throat, “Here.” He handed the girl her things, feeling a tingle shoot through him when his fingers touched hers.

He felt it again when she grabbed his arm, leading him out of the library and down the hall.

“You must meet my father!” She insisted, “He would love to meet another student of al-Kwarizmi.”

Basim stumbled behind her, not knowing what he got himself into, but nevertheless deciding to go along for the ride.

____________________________________________________________________________

Moment’s later, Basim found himself gazing at the ceiling of the room he entered. The girl brought him to what looked like an observatory, judging by the dome shaped ceiling with beautifully intricate designs of celestial bodies adorning it.

All around the room were star maps and other drawings. There were telescopes, compases, and many other tools along the walls, as well as large stacks of books messily gathered in the corners. There were two desks: one was full fo papers and scrolls with various compases and writing tools scattered around it, and the other was neatly organized with an large older man sitting there.

The girl gently sat the books and scrolls on a nearby table, scurrying her way over to the bearded man near the center of the room, “Baba, Baba!” she tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, though he seemed very deep into his work.

“One moment azizati, just need to figure out this calculation…” The older man stroked his graying beard, then fiddled with a nearby counter, “This doesn’t seem right…” He muttered to himself.

Basim watched as the girl drummed her fingers on the table, patiently waiting as her father wracked his brain over the mathematical formula. She sighed, looking over his shoulder at his work. She pointed to the paper, “You forgot to carry the two here, Baba.”

The man blinked, then threw his head back in a hearty chuckle that seemed to nearly shake the walls around them, “So it seems I have! Clever girl,” He patted her on the head, “Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

The girl motioned in Basim’s direction, “I want you to meet someone! This is-” She paused, “Oh, how rude of me. I haven’t even asked you your name.” She said, seeming embarrassed.

Basim waved her off, “It is alright. I am Basim.” He said, slightly bowing his head towards the two.

“It is nice to meet you, Basim. I am Nashira, and this is my father Khalid ibn Mohammed, the head astronomer here at the House of Wisdom.” she said proudly.

Basim felt something brush against him, causing him to look down to see a fluffy white cat rubbing itself against his legs. The cat had big green eyes and a pendant around its neck with a moon design on it. He crouched down to pet the creature, delighting in its soft purring. He quite liked cats, as there were many stray ones roaming around the streets. However this cat was definitely a purebred unlike the ones he found in Anbar.

Nashira giggled, “And that is our cat, Halah!” She turned to her father, “Baba, Basim was a student of al-Kwarizmi. And we just happened to…run into each other in the library. Isn’t that something?”

Basim was thankful she embellished that bit of the story.

Khalid’s eyes widened with surprise, a trait Basim could already tell his daughter inherited from him, “Mashallah!” He quickly rose from his seat and made his way to the young man, wrapping his arms around him and lifting him off the ground, “Any friend of my old mentor is a friend of mine.”

Basim squirmed a bit in the hold, but smiled nonetheless “Nice to meet you too, ustadi.” He strained to say.

Khalid gently set Basim down, dusting his shoulders as he let out another hearty chuckle, “I wish we could talk more, but I have a lecture to give. Please, make yourself at home here, my daughter can show you any studies you’d like to see about astronomy while you are here.”

Basim nodded, waving to the man as he left for his lecture. Nashira made her way beside him, now holding Halah herself.

She chuckled, “My Baba has never met a stranger,” She let Halah jump down from her arms, motioning for Basim to take a seat at the nearby table as she rummaged through a cabinet.

“I can tell,” He coughed out, rubbing his chest as he still felt the hug Khalid gave him. “How is it you have not met al-Kwarizmi? Seeing as your father is an astronomer and all.” He asked.

Nashira exited the cabinet, holding a plate of dates and a vase of water that she set on the table, “I was too young to come to the House of Wisdom back then. Baba hired a Nanny to take care of me while he studied under him, and once I was old enough I came here to study here under my father.”

Basim nodded as he made sense of what she was saying. Seeing as she was raised by a nanny in her childhood, he figured it was safe to assume her mother died when she was a baby. It made sense then why she got to study in the House of Wisdom if she was under her father’s care.

Basim nodded, “I see, that must have been after al-Kwarizmi passed. I was wondering why I had never seen you here before,” He graciously took the cup of water she poured for him, “I’m sure I would have remembered a girl like you.”

Nashira gave him a cheeky smile, raising an eyebrow as she did so.

Basim flushed, realizing how he sounded.

“What I mean is, there are not many young girls like yourself in the House of Wisdom.” He quickly added, hoping his last comment didn’t come off as him being fresh.

He felt himself relax when he heard her laugh, “Calm down, Basim. I am only teasing.” She sat down on the other side of the table, reaching for a date to snack on, “But you are right about that, not many scholars devote their time to teaching girls. So I count myself lucky that my father is one. It's just me and my Baba, studying the stars.”

Halah let out a meow, jumping on the table.

Nashira petted the cat, “And you too, Halah.” She gave the cat a date as well.

Basim smiled, “That sounds like quite the life.” He said, taking a sip of water and realizing how thirsty he had been. He then reached across the table to scratch Halah under the chin, smiling when she purred. Perhaps in a different life he’d be doing much the same with his father, learning the ways of an architect.

Some time passed as they enjoyed their snack together before Nashira spoke again. “Now if you don’t mind me asking, why were those guards chasing after you?” She placed her chin in her hand, waiting patiently for him to answer her.

Basim gulped. He should’ve known better than to think he’d get off completely Scott free.

“Well…you see I was…” He tried to think of any possible explanation that wouldn’t make him look bad but came up with nothing. He slumped, feeling it best to be honest, “I was caught stealing in the market.”

Nashira’s eyes widened, “Stealing? Why would you do that?”

Basim slumped even more, feeling shame set in.

Nashira’s eyes looked over Basim, taking in his appearance. His clothes were old and tethered, some of his garments looked worn beyond repair. Her eyebrows furrowed, feeling ashamed of herself for asking such a question.

“Nevermind, you do not need to answer that.” She told him.

Basim felt a bit of relief. Still, he could tell she pitied him, which didn’t make him feel much better.

He noticed the setting sun from the open window. Dervis would be expecting him soon and he’d need to leave if he wanted to get back to Anbar.

He stood up, “It is getting late, I really must get going,” He stood up from his chair, “Thank you again for helping me today, Nashira.”

She frowned, “You’re leaving already?” She asked, sounding saddened by the news.

He nodded, “I have to go home. Someone is expecting me.”

She took another glance at his clothes, “Where is home for you?” She asked carefully.

Basim bit his lip, “...Anbar.” He hesitated to say.

Anbar, the slums of Baghdad. Nashira had not learned much about her new friend, but with that in mind, certain things were starting to make sense. No one in their right mind would risk stealing unless they had too. Not when the punishment for stealing was losing a hand.

She gathered the remaining dates into a small pouch, “Please, take these with you.”

Basim shook his head, holding his hands in front of him in protest, “No, please, I do not want your pity.” He pleaded. The last thing he wanted was for this girl to feel sorry for him.

She tilted her head, “Pity? Baba always buys me too many dates. I never have anyone to share them with, so if you don’t take them they will just go to waste. You would be doing me a favor by taking them off my hands,” She smiled at him softly and shook the bag a little, hoping he would take them.

Basim felt the tension in his shoulders lessen. His eyes softened. Basim gave her a small smile as he took the bag of dates and placed them in his satchel. He felt his stomach grumble thinking about the sweet, juicy contents of the pouch. Nehal and the other children who worked for Dervis would love them as well.

He made his way toward the window, “Thank you Nashira. It was nice to meet you.” He said, meaning every word.

She watched as he jumped down onto a nearby ledge, then down to the courtyard below, “Come back and see me!” She called out to him.

He looked up at her, seeing her smiling face above, “I will!”

“You promise?” She asked.

“I promise!” He said back, waving as he did so. He was just about to turn around when he heard her call his name once more.

“And Basim! Next time, just use the front entrance.” She smirked.

He laughed, “I will try to remember that!”

[a-flickering-soul]

Heyyy, I don't have a number for the spotify wrapped, but I do want to ask something. I've been slowly getting into steam powered giraffe, and i saw you had some of their songs in your list. Could you list some of your favourites of theirs? I know next to nothing about them, and I don't really know where to start. Feel free to recommend as much as you like, I'd really appreciate it!

Oh my god I love this QUESTION!!! It's been so long since I got an SPG ask!!!

Honestly, when I started getting into them I genuinely just listened to their whole discography in chronological order while I was doing homework or whatever and that was a really great introduction, because you get to see how their sound and aesthetic evolved over time and that's really cool! I also recommend listening to their albums in order at least once because for a bunch of them, there's a distinct theme or ongoing bits and bobs and skits that flow into each other (Album 1 and VQ most noticeably, 2c Show and MKIII less so).

Otherwise, my two favorite albums are Album 1 (either version is really fun to me) and 1896, which bookend nicely as of now. I like Album 1 a lot because it's just very. . . themed? It's one of their most stylistic albums and there's a lot of really solid "beginner SPG fan" songs in there that are pretty classic. 1896 will also always be one of my favorites because I'm just enamored with Zer0's voice and the influence he brings to the band and I just think it's a very cohesive and nice-sounding album overall.

I would not, however, recommend starting off with Vice Quadrant 1 and 2 until you get a grasp on SPG and their whole. . . thing. There are bangers in there for SURE, almost all of them criminally underrated, but it's also a space opera performed by three vocalists and as such is very hard to follow at times.

For specific songs that make me go CRAZYYY that are also pretty beginner-friendly I'll limit myself to a few from each album because I'm taking you seriously when you say to recommend as much as I like:

Clockwork Vaudeville

On Top Of The Universe

Brass Goggles

Electricity Is In My Soul

Honeybee

Mecto Amore

I'll Rust With You

Over The Moon

Starlight Star-Shine

Sleep Evil Sleep

Shattered Stars

Eat Your Heart

Bad Days On The Horizon

Hot On The Trail

I will end this with a shameless self promotion of my own personally curated Spotify playlist of my fave SPG songs (it's a good mix from all the albums IMO but it also is curated to my personal taste so YMMV ig?) as well as my big ol YouTube playlist of some of my fave performances by them, since I really do think seeing them perform is half the fun of this band!

Happy listening and hope you have fun! I love SPG and it's always very exciting seeing other people getting into them :)

[f1nalboys]

Can i get a nsfw alphabet for stu?

I SURE FUCKING CANNNNNNNN <3love u anon

Stu Macher NSFW Alphabet

WORD COUNT: 1622

WARNINGS: nsfw, dark kinks listed, its stu so thats a warning, just proceed with caution

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Stu my beloved <3 he is great at aftercare in general, but he goes above and beyond when it comes to his long term partners. One night stands are different; it’s not that he purposely doesn’t do much to make sure they’re okay, it’s just that he…. Doesn’t see it *as* important, if that makes sense? When its someone he’s only seeing once he isn’t getting into anything super bad or dark so he doesn’t feel the need to do a full aftercare session. When it’s a long term partner then he will takes as long as they need to make sure they’re in a good headspace, he knows he can get a bit into it you know?

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, it’s his tongue 1 billion percent. I mean, Stu loves *all* of him and is super confident in his body but overall it’s his tongue. He can do a lot with it, can tease his partner or make them cry with pleasure, can put it on every inch of skin his partner allows, can talk a lot of shit. He’s multi-talented. As for his partner, it’s ass. He’s an ass guy, hate to be the one to break it to you all. ANY ass is perfect, though. Small one? Easy to grab. Big one? Gets to see it bounce when he’s fucking you from behind. 10/10 ass in general, you know?

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

God. Stu *loves* cumming on you. He’s a big fan of cumming in you too, of course, but theres something very…degrading about cumming on your face or chest or ass or stomach or (insert any body part here) that drives him wild. His fave place to cum though is cumming on your holes >:) if you have a pussy, he’s cumming *on* it. If he’s fucking you in the ass, he’s coming on your hole and then using his finger to push it inside you. AM I WRONG????? NEVER. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

`Stu doesn’t have many ‘secrets’ tbh, but one i say for pretty much every mf i write for is that they’re panty sniffers. Stu, however, steals them. All. The. Time. He rifles through your laundry at any given opportunity, even before you were together, and pockets a pair or two of your really dirty and old pairs because they smell (and taste) like you the most. You’ll never find those new lace thongs missing but you just always seem to misplace your old granny panties hehe

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Hot take but he’s not *that* experienced. I mean he has plenty of people under his belt but he definitely embellishes the number a bit to seem cooler hehe. But dont worry, this mf KNOWS what he’s doing! Hes a fast learner and takes care to make sure his partner is feeling good too so he doesn’t have any complaints thus far.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Doggy. That’s his favorite of all time. It’s only just rivaled by you riding him tbh but he prefers doggy because again, ass man.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It’s Stu we’re talking about. It’s goofy 75/25. NOW that being said, he can def be serious and he knows when to not crack a joke or two, he just likes when sex is lighthearted you know? His serious sessions tend to be on the meaner side especially since he’s the dom in those situations 9/10 times. 

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Pretty well groomed only because he gets too uncomfortable if he’s super hairy. Doesn’t care about his partners pubes though, literally the last thing he thinks about lol. Dark brown hair, a thin happy trail, hes sexy, etc 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Stu is way less romantic than you would think lol. He has his moments often but a majority of the time he’s simply interested in the fucking than the romance. Plus, Stu can get kind of mean and will forget to be romantic lolz

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Once a day minimum. Doesn’t matter if you two had sex five times that day, he *has* to jerk off before he goes to sleep. It helps him unwind really and it’s some alone time lol (a way to get kind of past this is by having him jerk off in front of you and THEN having sex. You get to fuck him and he gets his little solo thing out of the way in a more fun way)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Sadism. Humiliation.  Dracryphilia. Corruption. Pegging. Sub/Dom. Predator/Prey. Knives. Blood. Degradation. Praise. Voyeurism. Cucking. Slut shaming/Misogyny (sorry). Choking. Spitting. Slapping. Roleplay. Bondage. Collaring. Face Fucking. Cages. Lowkey pet play (likes calling you his ‘puppy’ or ‘kitten’ sorry). So many more omg

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Public sex especially in the woods IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS. he also likes regular house sex but not in the bedroom <3 Likes bending you over in random places hehe

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

This would be a smaller list if it asked what DOESNT turn him on because the answer would be like 2 things LMFAO. But honestly he loves innocent looks and touches because of his corruption kink hehe he ALSO loves when you bend over in front of him or ‘accidently’ brush up against him when you’re moving past him

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bathroom stuff or vomit. It’s gross to him. You’d think he wouldn’t be into feet but he is look at him he looks like he sucks toes.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Receiving. He’s a god at giving but he has needs you know? Plus, he’s a fan of face fucking and likes it better when its just him and not 69ing.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, 100%. He loves leaving bruises and marks and tear streaks on you by the time the first round it over tbh lol.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Biggest fan in the world <3 LOVES quickies, wants them all day every day fr. Plan for him to pull you into another room (if you’re lucky) and bare minimum go down on you or just pull your underwear to the side and make you bite your hand to stay quiet <3 Or not <3

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Huge risktaker!!!!!! He does not care if you two are caught fucking by other people and he’s going to make it apart of his dirty talk while you’re out. He wouldn’t do it in like,,,,SUPER public? Like fingering you under the table at a restaurant is cool but in a public park on a bench mid day is a no, you know? Now that same park at night….

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

At least 2 or 3 unless he’s super worked up or has been teasing for a super long time lol. He’s pretty average in length, it really depends on how horny he is and how long he’s been teasing yu

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Stu loves toys <3 Biggest collection you could ever see LMAO he has dozens of toys for himself, even more for his partners, he has a bunch of ‘special’ toys that cost him a pretty fucking penny hehe. Unless its a quickie or something, he’s gonna use at least ONE toy for the both of you 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease

….do we actually need to talk about this? Biggest fucking tease to ever exist i SWEAR he’s such an asshole

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud because he doesn’t shut the fuck up! H’es always talking and teasing and moaning and gasping, like…. Its actually impressive that he doesn’t lose his voice. You can gag him (he’s into it) but he’ll still be loud and whiney <3333

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

When Stu is punishing his partner he’ll make them watch him use a toy hehe. His fave thing to do is tie you up and putting the toy (a strap or a fleshlight, depending on his mood) on you and fucking it like it was u hehehe

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Don’t feel like doing this sorry baes <3

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Super high, higher than average. He has to cum at least once a day (like I mentioned) but he’s always. Thinking. About. Sex. he has to have a world record for longest porn scenario in head

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how long it lasted and how exhaustive it was. Like, a real quick in and out thing, he’ll be wide awake ready to go about his day still. A Ghostface roleplay that ended in a pretty rough chase? Out like a damn light

[howdywrites]

The Encounter

WIP: In The Woods Somewhere Characters: Jackie and Benny Word Count: 1,070 ***Content Warnings: no gore but gross descriptions of bodily fluids, mild suspense***

This takes place early in ITWS, when Benny and Jackie run into someone who will not be human very soon. Just a reminder: this WIP is set during the early apocalypse, contains zombies, and is sapphic! Created for mature audiences!

Another note, I have had severe writers block and generally been stupid busy, so this is only 1/3 of the work I did on this novel recently. I’m hoping this will encourage me to keep writing!

Wet, acrid heat engulfed Jackie. This time of year the air was sticky and hot, carrying the scent of pine and goldenrod flowers on the wind. She shielded her eyes with her free hand, leaning against her rake that she stabbed into the moist earth. Buzzards swarmed overhead, cawing and floating along the blue sky.

"Something must've died," Benny puffed, his shoulders hunched and hands resting on his knees. His back moved up and down rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Please tell me you brought sunscreen with you," Jackie raised a brow while looking at the young ranger intern. Benny's cheeks were scarlet, sweat falling in large beads down his freckled cheeks. He lifted his head, dirty blond hair sticking to his forehead, and grinned ear to ear.

"Nope!"

"Goddamn it, Benny..." Jackie unclipped the portable fan from around her neck and handed it to him. "Chief is going to kill you, you know. If skin cancer doesn't get to you first."

"It's such a pain - why do I have to reapply it every thirty minutes? Can't they just make sunscreen that lasts all day?" Jackie knew he was kidding, but the urge to give the young man a tongue lashing crept up the back of her throat. So she gave him a deep frown, watching as he fanned himself at full volume. His eyes widened, brows turning upward in the saddest display of puppy eyes. "C'mon, Jack, you know I didn't mean to. I had a billion things on my mind this morning."

Jackie shook her head, yanking her rake out of the ground. "No, I shouldn't be talking to you like you're a kid. Sorry, Benny." Her face smoothed out, a small smile curling at the corner of her lip. "Let's take care of whatever the hell that is and get out of Dodge." She jutted a thumb towards the carnivorous birds. They had migrated closer to the two of them during their spat, hovering only a dozen feet overhead.

The two rangers were tasked with clearing out the overgrown shrubbery that crept along the [trail name] trail. After hours of backbreaking work under the sun, they had it back to tip-top shape, allowing the path to be seen properly by hikers. While not the ideal task at the park, Jackie preferred being in nature over being yelled at by summer holiday campers at the trailheads and welcome center. The primary downside of working the trails was the inevitability of coming across something dead or finding yet another problem that needed fixing.

"Five bucks it's just a squirrel again," Benny laughed, giving Jackie her fan back and looking much cooler than before.

"I don't know. Four buzzards for one squirrel?" She took the lead, heading into a thicket of trees with her eyes on the birds.

"Maybe, there's been a lot of weird animal things going on lately."

"Maybe."

He wasn't wrong. Jackie had seen a few strange events since summer began. She chocked it up to the summer heat. It was at least ten degrees warmer than last July, and the Wildlife Biology team pointed out that animals were avoiding human contact in larger numbers than in previous seasons. The animals that did interact with humans tended to be far more aggressive than usual, too.

Jackie trembled thinking about her run in with an emaciated bear cub in early spring. How its eyes were caked in puss and mouth dripping with a sickly yellow foam. Rabies, the biologists told her, and abandoned by its mother. But she had never seen bear cubs act like that before - or look like that. It attacked her like it had a grudge against her personally, not like it was hungry.

"Jackie?" Benny's voice behind her grew quiet, nearly a whisper. She took pause, drawing her gaze away from the gaps in the tree canopy. A twig snapped ahead of them. The thick scent of vomit hit her like a ton of bricks. There, in a small clearing among the overgrowth, stood a human. A man, on the heavier side, back hunched slightly and head down like he was sleeping while standing upright. Flies buzzed past her ear, zooming towards the fresh feast of vomit at the man's sandled feet. She swallowed a gag, standing up straighter. If the man noticed their presence, he didn't acknowledge them.

Jackie cleared her throat. "Sir? Are you lost? This trail is closed for maintenance and it's advised that you stick to the path." She used her 'teacher voice' as JJ called it. A mix of disappointment and authority that usually steered park guests in the right direction.

The man's head lulled from side to side, slow and methodical, before lifting. He looked over his shoulder at them, eyes wet and face ghostly white. He blinked, as if he saw through them. "Sorry..." he croaked. His words had the cadence of someone whose tongue was too large for their mouth.

"Do you need medical attention?" Jackie prodded, using a gentler tone. She stepped a few paces closer, Benny staying back.

"Little Bear to Papa Bear, we have a situation out on [trail name]." He muttered into his walkie talkie. "Can we get medical out here, over."

"No." The man's head wavered again and he ran a fist over his eyes. A thick goo stuck to his skin, a bit of it dribbling down his cheek. "Just tired. Where am I?"

"You're near the trail, don't worry." Jackie motioned for him to follow them back towards safety. "Let's get you some water, we have a team headed this way that will get you back to your camp, okay?"

'Papa Bear to Little Bear, medic is on their way, over.'

The stranger shuffled his feet, moving like he was attached to weights and moving through water. When he turned, Jackie noticed the front of his shirt was covered in sweat from collar to belly button. How long had he been standing out in he heat? She tried not to curl her nose in disgust as he hacked up some more bile. It landed between them in a thick puddle.

"Careful, now. Did you know you were sick, sir?"

"Jus'a cold." he followed slowly, just behind Jackie. Benny took the lead back to the trail, straying as far away from the stranger as possible. "Not even that sick."

"Well, we'll let our med team decide that."

-

Folks who were interested when I posted about sharing a snippet: @draculinawrites​ @antique-symbolism​