#they really made me focus on how i looked instead of who i was huh

[amostimprobabledream]

Falling in Reverse (Dazai Osamu x Reader) Part Two

I meant to write more of this like...two years ago? My bad. I hope you enjoy despite that! <3 -

This is fine.

You kept on thinking it as you sat there, trying to pay attention.

You told yourself to stop it. Stop nitpicking, finding fault with every little thing and refusing to live in the moment for a solitary fucking second. You could feel your fingers twitching with desperation to check your messages, and nearly sit on your hands in an effort to stop yourself. You poured your focus into acting normal instead, nodding in the right places, making encouraging noises, keeping your facial expression open and inviting instead of sliding into boredom or irritation…

It's a fucking lot of work.

The guy – his name was Ken-something, he said what it was when you sat down but the bar was kind of loud and the chance to get him to repeat it somehow slipped past you – was good-looking enough but he wasn’t especially interesting to talk to, and he kept looking around the bar like he was expecting something. He asked the basic questions, but you got the feeling he wasn’t really listening when you answered. The only time he did seem intrigued was when you mentioned your job. You kept it vague, since the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t popular with some people, and he’d lost interest when you clarified it was just a desk job.

“So you don’t get to get out much?” he asked, with a lopsided smirk like he’d made some hilarious sexual innuendo you hadn’t got yet.

“Oh, you know, I run errands sometimes.” You replied, pretending to think hard about the response. It's actually true – Ranpo had you bringing him so many snacks it’s like he thought you were the goddamn Easter Bunny, yet you could never quite bring yourself to say ‘no’ to him. “Thrilling stuff, I know.”

 “That’s too bad. Maybe you need someone to show you some thrills, you know?”

A smirk accompanied that, and you dutifully waited for the butterflies in your stomach, or a flicker of intrigue, or something, but your ardour remained stubbornly cool. Frustration bubbled inside you, and you took a big gulp of your drink. It was like you were jamming keys you knew fit into the ignition of a car, but every time you turned it, the engine would not turn on, no matter how much you tried to will it to life.

But going home would feel like quitting. Like admitting defeat. Like you're really saying: I'm so obsessed with my co-worker who is both terrible and far too good for me that I can't give anyone else a chance. Sad, huh?

“Excuse me for a sec,” you said instead, flashing a smile you didn’t feel, rising to your feet. “I’ll be right back.”

He waved a hand in acknowledgement, and you could tell he was watching you as you headed for the ladies’ room, the heat of it making you strangely uneasy, knowing his eyes were going down your body, cataloguing. For sure he was looking at your ass in the dress.

The ladies’ room was blessedly quiet, and you splashed some water on your face, staring down your reflection, hands braced either side of the sink.

What am I doing here? You thought, and sighed.

It’s just a lacklustre date. You’ve gone on them before and usually put no further thought into them once you took off your makeup and outfit and slipped into bed. There are millions of people in the world, the odds of being instantly compatible with someone seemed like a rare enough thing not to take too personally.

But looking at yourself in your red dress, your hair washed and makeup still nice (if getting slightly smudgy – most of your lipgloss had already transferred to the rim of your glass), you didn’t feel like some kind of sexy badass like you’d been going for.

You just felt kind of stupid, to be honest.

You really thought you did something, didn’t you? A nasty inner voice sneered at you. You thought this was like a movie where you could put on a slutty dress, have an amazing date with a cute guy and magically cure your shitty life? You thought this would fix anything?

You hated that the bitchy voice was right.

“You stupid bitch.” You muttered out loud, your reflection mouthing the words back at you, and you shook your head and exited the toilets before somebody walked in on the stranger talking to herself.

Perhaps the drinks are hitting you a little harder than you thought, because a vague fuzz of light-headedness descended on you as you walked towards your booth, and you decided that you liked it. It took the edge of your self-consciousness and made you forget how this wasn’t the kind of dress you usually wore, or that you were going on a stupid date to get over your feelings for a co-worker who was literally a hazard to one’s health.

But then, just as you got back to your seat, younearly tripped over yourself in shock when you got to the booth and the back of the seated man’s head was definitely not the man you’d come into the bar with.

You’d know those fluffy brown locks anywhere.

“Dazai, what the fuck?!“ you said, then remembered to lower your voice into a hiss, anger coming to you in a sharp burst, like opening a bottle that’s been shaken up first. “You can’t just come in here and- “

Dazai turned his head and your ranting abruptly halted. His face was devoid of its usual playful smirk and the sparkle of mischief in his eyes, eyes that looked brown but when the light hit them just right, they got this golden sheen that looked just like honey…

You were distracted for a second, and Dazai’s voice cut through the fog.

“I don’t have time to explain, we have to move now.”

Something in his voice froze your anger – it had dropped an octave from his usual light-hearted, teasing tone he often adopted to annoy Kunikida or trick Atsushi into doing something for him. No, Dazai wasn’t playing around, and your stomach dropped when you caught the look on his face.

More questions teemed on your tongue, but he was standing up, up, out of the seat and away from the little booth, grabbing your arm as he rushed by. Your half-finished drink lay abandoned and unpaid for – you knew Dazai had a habit of dine and dashing and apparently he was putting it to good use now.

He dragged you through the kitchen, so quickly that the yells of surprise from the cooks were already far behind you as he opened the door to the back of the bar and you’d stepped into the cool outside air. Dazai didn’t pause in his stride or let go of your arm and you realised to your chagrin that you’d left your jacket behind in the booth. You could only hope some kind soul would hand it in to the place to hold onto, though they might not feel like returning it since you’d just disappeared without paying for your drink.

“Dazai, slow down-" you said, doing your damndest to keep up with him – you’re not exactly dressed for running. “What’s going on?”

“Your date isn’t just your average Joe, I’m afraid.” Dazai replied, grimly, apparently deciding that telling you something was more practical than refusing to go into detail and risking a mutiny. “I’m not sure where you found this guy, but he’s there to try and pump information about the Armed Detective Agency from you.”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly – you barely had time to register the chilly sting of disappointment, like cool air from a fast moving vehicle whipping by you.

“What the fuck – how could you possibly know that?” you spluttered, before another, unwelcome possibility struck you. “Were you… following me?!”

“Of course I was.” He said, in a voice that sounded a bit more like his usual one – that annoying, teasy, I-know-something-you-don’t-know tone that usually got him slapped upside the head by Kunikida.

Your indignant squawk was cut off when he wrenched at your arm and suddenly, you’d stopped running and were enveloped in cool darkness. He’d found some kind of little snicket that somebody passing at a reasonable pace would probably have missed. You’re not surprised that Dazai was well-acquainted with hidden away little spots like that.

“Dazai-" you said again, frustrated and slightly out of breath – why was he stopping?

“Ssh.” He said.

In the distance you could hear the screeching of a car – no, more than one car – and an even more distant wailing of sirens. His arms caged you in and he was staring over his shoulder intently, like a fox that has heard the baying of the hounds.

“No doubt the Port Mafia’s goons are out looking for their little friend now.” He muttered, more to himself than you. It was like he’d forgotten you were there. “It’s for the best if this doesn’t get traced back to the Armed Detective Agency.”

Your mouth felt dry suddenly, noting the calculating look in Dazai’s eyes and unease crawled up your back. It’s so easy to forget that Dazai used to be one of them, that he knew the way they think and that he’s capable of switching back into that mode with frightening ease. Just because you’re co-workers didn’t mean you knew much about him, and you’re being made painfully aware of that fact right now.

“Dazai…just what did you do?” you asked, and you couldn’t hide the faint hitch in your voice.

Did he drag the guy outside and kill him? Was that why the police sirens were coming closer? If you pulled back the front of his coat right now, would his immaculate white shirt be splattered with still-wet blood? Does he think you told the guy something valuable? You didn’t think Dazai would hurt you – but you couldn’t be completely, one-hundred percent sure.

What did you really know about Osamu Dazai?

“Don’t worry. The Port Mafia don’t take kindly when you mess with one of their own,” Dazai said, seemingly able to discern your mounting fears with a glance, perhaps the look in your eyes or the tremor when you spoke gave you away. “He’ll live, but he’ll think twice before he tries using someone from the Agency like that.”

Thank god for that. You think – not that you would have lost too much sleep over one ex-Port Mafia member, but the thought of being stuck in a tiny space with a man who had just recently murdered someone wasn’t exactly the kind of exciting activity you’d hoped for tonight.

“So, we should get out of here,” you said, swallowing. “While they’re still swarming the bar.”

“Not yet. They’ll be looking for people running for public transport.” Dazai replied, his voice so certain that you didn’t question him further – why would you? This was all new territory for you, whereas Dazai had been doing this kind of thing since he was fifteen.

“So then what-?”

But you both fell silent as you heard something else – voices, drawing closer. Dazai swore softly under his breath, and he leaned in a little closer to you like he was trying to shield you from view with his body. You could feel yourself starting to sweat from the intensity of it, fighting back a grimace as you felt a trickle of it sliding down the length of your upper arm. Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Dazai said, after a beat, when the voices had drawn so close that you swore any second - any second! – they were going to find you and maybe kill you, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears.

 And Dazai truly sounded regretful - he really was a good actor.

 “I'm going to have to kiss you."

He didn't give you pause to process his words, which came to you as if from far away, floating to your ears, because the next thing you knew, long slender fingers were cupping your jaw, turning your face and his mouth was sliding over yours.

Most first kisses are awkward, fumbling affairs. Getting used to someone else's rhythm, trying not to do something awkward and mood-killing like clash teeth or bite the other person's tongue can slow things down, cause a few seconds where the spell is broken.

Kissing Dazai - or rather, being kissed by him, was nothing like that.

He kissed you like he'd been given a guide. Like he knew you, intrinsically and deeply, and knew the inner workings of your mind and mouth better than you did. One hand stayed cradling your jaw, the other one slid down, and his long, elegant fingers wrapped around your waist, pulling you in until you were pressed flush against him. It didn’t escape your notice that his crotch was also touching you and you were decidedly grateful his mouth was firmly joined with yours, or you might have actually whimpered out loud.

How often had you dreamed of this? Your nights had been full of sordid little fantasies of Dazai, of dropping your guard and confessing to him, and then, in your mind, he’d smile and tell you he’d always known, before he kissed you. Or depending on how raunchy you were feeling, other times you’d picture him just sweeping everything off your desk in a dramatic gesture and fucking you right then and there on the desk?

And all of it had seemed so stupid and pathetic than you’d be stinging with shame after your late-night fantasies reached their climax, lusting so hard over someone who probably barely noticed you were present in the room. Falling for Dazai’s looks was one thing, but you saw what he was like on a day-to-day basis, how he was lazy and unprofessional and sometimes kind of an asshole. But cold logic would not touch your yearning.

And now, in this cold, cramped little forgotten pocket of Yokohama, Dazai was putting your daydreams to shame. Your lips tingled as if you’d kissed something with a high voltage, heat surging along your bloodstream. Dazai’s touch was gentle but firm and the way he tilted his head, angling yours at his preference, sent a thrill chasing down your spine.

The voices were now right across from you, within arm’s reach, but Dazai felt you stiffen in fear and simply deepened the kiss, holding you tightly to him.

“Nevermind. Nobody’s here ‘cept some lovebirds.” A man’s rough voice said and it sounded so close, you could practically smell him, but you forced yourself to tune him out like someone deep in the throes of passion would, to sink into the sensation of Dazai’s hands on you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the pleasant scent of him, sort of like freshly-cut wood and whisky.

“Come on, let’s go this way, they probably took the subway.”

The footsteps go the opposite direction, you hear one of the Port Mafia grunts swearing as he walks through a puddle, and the fear pricking you recedes. Dazai had one eye open, scanning behind you, before he finally breaks the kiss and pulled back. You felt bereft, but you were also seized by the abrupt urge to laugh at the sparkly smudge of gloss on the corner of his mouth.

“Nicely done,” Dazai remarked, his eyes cutting down at you, and his lips curved in a smirk. “Almost like it was real.”

“Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound ironic, but you sounded far too breathy to be sufficiently aloof. “Almost.”

Dazai’s hand had not left your waist yet and he stepped out of the hiding place, pulling you after him.

“Stay close to me,” he instructed, his voice husky. “We’re not out of danger yet.”

You nodded and wiped your mouth on the back of the wrist.

With Dazai, danger was a given. You just hoped you’d come out of it in one piece – in more ways than one. But your voice was steady as you answered;

“Then let’s go.”

[diariesofthelover]

Wayne Brothers’ Gala Girl

synopsis: Bruce Wayne’s galas are held every once in a blue moon, but when they did occur, every Gotham socialite was sure to attend. The eldest sons of Gotham’s favorite billionaire always wound up in some trouble to entertain themselves, this time the brothers’ idea of fun was a beautiful woman who looked almost as bored as them.

notes: Jason Todd & Dick Grayson x reader, 3rd person pov, little bit 🌶️, inspired by the painting above.

The Eldest Wayne brothers found themselves in the quietest corner of the gala, bored with no idea of what they can get into this time around to beat last gala’s “performance” as they would call it.

“We could set off the fire alarm,” Dick suggests lazily to his younger brother.

“What are we twelve? Most of the people here already think we’re still fifteen.”

“No, they think you’re still fifteen because you were legally dead for like four years.”

“Shut up, dickwad.”

“HER!” Dick exclaimed, “Her, her, her, her!”

“You were Robin not a fucking parrot, her what?”

“That beautiful beautiful woman right there that looks even more miserable than we do with those tuxedo vultures circling her.”

Tuxedo vultures was spot on. These rich pigs had her trapped, all trying to win her attention one at a time, attempting a better pitch than the last guy. Any kind of manners that were instilled in her from an early age couldn’t apply after the third man insisted that he was the perfect man for her, actually, the perfect man for any proper woman, brains or not. All of the men here were the exact same, they believed their money and family were enough to flatter any woman here, that having any form of a likable personality or distanct traits besides snobbery was, “not something women really wanted.”

The woman couldn’t control her eye roll after the second attempted joke was made, averting her gaze where her eyes landed on the two men who already had their bright eyes on her, Bruce Wayne’s oldest sons.

She didn’t have a problem with the Wayne Family of course, she was after all attending their gala, it was just some of the guests that she wasn’t so fond of.

“What about her?” Jason looks over to who Dick was fawning over. Jason wasn’t blind, actually his vision only got better after he was resurrected, he too thought that the woman was beautiful, maybe one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, which is why he immediately shut Dick down, knowing what he was going to try to do.

“No, Dick. No chance, leave her alone.”

“I don’t think she wants me to,” Dick replies as the woman returns his famous flashy grin with a soft smile.

Dick had been trying to get Jason…well more out there after the whole dying, coming back to life, and then out in the public eye again thing. Jason died young, he barely got a chance to live his teenage years so whenever Jay’s attracted to someone, he starts acting like a teenage boy but at the age of twenty instead of sixteen.

Dick, make every girl swoon over him since his Robin days, Grayson mastered the whole girl thing by now and is trying to be his not so little brother’s tonight’s wingman.

“Follow me,” Dick whispers to Jason, not taking his eyes of the beauty across from him.

Dick and a hesitant Jason make their way over to the group of men that were all secretly jealous of their father, probably jealous of his sons too, interrupting the lifeless conversation and taking all of her focus off the vultures and onto him and Jason.

“Good evening gentlemen, how are we doing tonight?” Jason almost gagged at his at his brother’s fake politeness, he was always the better one at socializing, his charming personality didn’t stop at women.

“Richard Grayson, boy you’ve certainly grown up since I last saw you!” An older man around Bruce’s age greets him stirring up the rest of the men.

“Dick Grayson huh, pleasure to finally meet Gotham’s new prince.”

“I hear you’re very popular with the ladies,” the group erupted into laughter, these men really love any jokes to do with a woman don’t they?

“And you must be Bruce’s other son, Tim is it?” Jason’s takes his eyes off the woman to give the man a slight scowl, he promised Bruce he’d behave tonight.

“No, no, that’s Jason the one that…” one of the men tries to begin to tell the epic tale of Jason Todd.

“Say, we would love to stay and chat but our date has been waiting for us for quite a bit now,” Dick quickly interrupts him before Jason pulls out any kind of weapon on these men and offers his hand to the woman.

She places her hand into his thinking that she’d rather be a damsel in a in distress in need of saving by a knight, or in Gotham’s case a masked vigilante, instead of spending another moment with some men that are old enough to be her father thinking about how’d she make the perfect trophy wife and the younger who simply want to get laid after the gala. As Dick pulls her away from the hungry drunken men, she offers her hand to Jason who gives her a confused and flustered look.

“If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Grayson said our date,” she says to him in the most soothing and charming voice Jason’s ever heard.

Forcing himself to snap out of this teenage haze, Jason takes her hand earning a smile from both her and his brother.

“I hope you don’t mind us whisking you away like that, you just seemed like you weren’t enjoying yourself,” Dick started, never dropping his darling smile.

“I don’t mind at all, I needed an excuse to get away from them,” the woman looks back at the men as they watch the brothers walk away with their “prize” in envy, “god they’re pathetic,” she sighs.

“Tell me about it,” Jason mumbles beside her.

“All night I’ve been surrounded by these people that only talk about their money, their jobs, their mansion and penthouses, it’s a bit exhausting, they really can’t think of anything else to discuss. It’s fascinating that they really think that’s the way to win over a woman.”

“Well I can promise you we’re a lot more interesting than that,” Dick laughs, “We also have access to all parts of the manor, how about Jason and I give you a little tour?” Dick states rather than asks earning a questioning look from Jason about what he’s planning.

“If you insist.”

Jason knew how Dick wanted him to jump into the dating pool. He frequently tried to set him up with either other vigilantes so he wouldn’t have to worry about his partner 24/7, or an ordinary Gotham citizen where Jason could escape from Gotham’s criminals and Red Hood duties to enjoy a semi-normal life. What Jason wasn’t understanding was why Dick had a chosen a woman that he was madly attracted to as well.

As Dick began his small tour of the manor, Jason stood awkwardly alongside the woman who was attentively watching his older brother and the places he showed. Jason didn’t know if he should join in or take over, make some small talk, he was sort of frozen in place and shy. You’d think that the big bad Red Hood who always had a mouth on him since he was Robin and would break Batman’s moral code would be the last person to get nervous around a pretty girl, maybe Red Hood wouldn’t but Jason Todd would.

“And this is the library, Jason’s favorite place in the manor,” Jason was snapped out of his thoughts when Dick mentioned his name, “once he comes in here you won’t see him for hours.”

“Big reader?” It took a moment for Jason to realize that the question was for him and not Dick.

“Yea, um, yes, I love literature.”

“Really, would do you love to read?” She was now fully focused on Jason who was struggling to maintain eye contact as his cheeks and ears were colored red.

He couldn’t keep his cool physically but he could try verbally, “classics,” he responded simply, not adding more to his portion of the conversation to which Dick internally sighed to.

“Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Austen?” The charming woman tried to get something out of the boy.

“All of them, and more of course,” Jason gave her a shy smile.

She heads towards the leather chair that Jason always sits in, making herself comfortable in his spot.

“This where you sit, get lost in all those stories you read?”

Something about her sitting in his chair made his blood rush. The way that she had made it look twice the size bigger being half the size of Jason, the way she relaxed into his chair, sinking into his molding. The boy was so mesmerized he forgot to answer her question.

Dick noticed and decided to swoop in, “Mhm, right here,” Dick drags now standing over her, “he’s a very smart guy you know with all the books he reads, runs in the family.”

She slowly shifted her gaze from Jason to Dick who was getting closer and closer, “I guess the looks do too, interesting for adopted brothers,” earning a smile from both boys.

“Excuse my brother for his shortness, we usually occupy ourselves with stunts at these galas, not beautiful women,” Dick says switching the attention back onto Jason, “he can get pretty shy.” Normally that statement would earn a punch to the shoulder or at least a nasty remark but Dick was right, Jason was pretty shy around pretty girls.

Dick and the mystery woman were now smiling at Jason who was leaned against the wall, close enough to where he can see the rise and fall of her chest, but far enough from engaging the way Dick was.

Dick gently tilts her head up with his large calloused hands forcing their gala girl to look up at him, “What do you think of my brother?”

Now it was the woman’s turn to be painted red, “I think he’s one of the most handsome and intriguing men I’ve ever seen.”

“And me?” Dick pouts.

“I think you’re one of the most handsome and charming man i’ve ever come across,” she says in a sultry tone that lures the boys in like sailors to a siren.

Both Dick and Jason’s blood is rushing, relishing in the fact that this goddess of a woman found the boys to be worthy of her attraction, that nobody else at the gala was as good as them.

“Tell me something, both of you,” she starts, “why stray from your usual chaos and shenanigans to show me around your manor?”

“You’re much more intriguing than anything we had in mind,” says Jason surprisingly boldly as he moves closer to her.

“You’re the most entertaining here tonight, baby,” adds in Dick who quickly got back his confidence after a brush to his ego.

“I heard I was beautiful too,” she teased, trying to get the higher ground again.

“I bet you get told that a lot, don’t you angel? You think that’s what those pigs were telling her Jay? How much of a pretty girl she is,” It was too late though, once Dick Grayson got wound up, he got complete control, “Now you tell me something doll, did they tell you how sexy you look in that dress of yours?” She shakes her head no, any kind of witty and teasing responses wiped from her pretty head, “Aw, well that’s just wrong, Jason tell her how good she looks in that dress.”

Both eyes are on Jason, waiting for his compliment, “She looks—you look stunning in that dress,” Dick was waiting for more, he knew Jason had the vocabulary he just needed the push, “You suit my color, red’s my favorite,” now they were getting something out of him.

“I’ll be sure to think of you when I wear red again,” god she was good. Dick had to bring the power back to him and Jason again, this all quickly became a game to him, his real entertainment for tonight’s gala.

“And what if we got rid of the red,” Dick slips the strap of her dress off her shoulder causing her to shudder, he’s in control again, “how’s that look?”

“Fuck,” Jason whispered under his breath.

“I think Jason feels the same way about it as I do,” with how quiet it was in the library his whisper was heard easily by the two, “what do you think pretty, you think it’s better?”

She felt like how Jason felt in the beginning, mesmerized and stunned. From Dick talking to her so confidently and his usage of pet names, to the way Jason was losing his fucking mind over her.

“Y’gonna answer me or are you gonna keep looking at Jay with fuck me eyes?” Dick wasn’t jealous, he was trying to tease the two, get them riled up.

Before she gets to respond there’s a knock at the door, “Master Richard and Master Jason, Master Bruce requests your attendance for at least another half hour.”

“We’ll be right out Alfred,” Richard quickly answered before Alfred could barge in on the scene, “shall we?”

Dick heads towards the door as Jason and their gala girl slowly fix themselves up, avoiding any kind of eye contact with each other.

Dick stops Jason before they head back out to the gala, “You’re welcome, Jaybird.”

[dabiekql]

HQ Ushijima, Atsumu, Oikawa, Kuroo, Bokuto - Calling Them by Their Last Name (Fluff)

-----

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Y/n remembered the video she just watched recently and decided to try it out to Ushijima. She was trying to find the right timing to call out his last name when Ushijima seemed to noticed her constantly glancing at him. He put down his spoon to focus on her.

"What is it?" Ushijima asked with a slight tilt.

Y/n's eyes glittered in excitement, "Ushijima."

She stared at him in anticipation, but instead of the reaction just like the video she watched, Ushijima did not look even the slightest bit affected. "What's the matter?"

Y/n huffed at his reaction and just shook her head. "Nothing..."

After they were done with their meal, Y/n was washing the dishes when Ushijima came behind her and back hugged her. His arms around her felt tighter than usual that Y/n turned off the faucet before turning her head towards him. "What's wrong, Toshi?"

However, Ushijima stayed silent. Thinking it wasn't really a big deal that y/n turned the faucet back on and continued to washed the dishes. By the time y/n was done with the dishes, that was when Ushijima spoke. "Now you are calling me Toshi?"

"Hmm?" Y/n made a bewildered expression as she hugged him back. But soon she figured out what was the reason and giggled at his cuteness. "I thought you weren't bothered by that!"

"I just didn't know how to respond since I was shock."

"You're so adorable, Toshi!"

"Were you just fooling around?"

Y/n nodded in glee as Ushijima's arms tightened even further in relief.

-----

Miya Atsumu

As soon as she saw the video, she immediately thought of trying it out to Atsumu. When she saw Atsumu entering the living room, she called out his last name, "Miya."

"HUH?!" Atsumu yelled out in shock. "Why are you calling me Miya?!"

"You are Miya though."

When y/n replied with a deadpanned expression, Atsumu felt chills run down his spine. "Did I do something wrong? I don't remember doing anything wrong recently at least..."

When y/n saw Atsumu panicking, she tried her best to not burst out laughing. "Miya."

"I really don't know what I did! But whatever it is, I'm sorry, so please stop calling me by my last name!" Atsumu cried out.

When y/n did not reply, Atsumu quickly thought off something else. "W-What if Samu is here?! You will get us confused!"

Although Atsumu smirked in triumph, y/n just rolled her eyes. "I can call him Osamu then."

Atsumu's eyes widened. "What the hell are you saying?! Are you crazy?! You're supposed to call ME by my first name since I AM your boyfriend! And not him!"

"It's my choice," When y/n smirked, Atsumu jumped up and down in frustration, saying that there is no way he will allow that. At his reaction, y/n gave up and tried to calm him down. "Ok, ok. I get it, some yelling!"

"Quick! Say my name!"

Y/n let out a sigh before saying his name, "Tsumu."

Atsumu smiled in satisfaction as he hugged her tightly. "Don't ever call me by my last name! Call Samu by our last name instead!"

"I'll do it again if you do something that pisses me off."

"Huh?! That's not fair!"

"What do you mean, it's not fair?!"

Y/n was supposed to tell him she was just pulling a prank on him, but she missed the timing and they ended up bickering once again.

-----

Oikawa Tooru

"Oikawa," When y/n called him by his surname, Oikawa froze on the spot. At his reaction, y/n had to stop herself from bursting out laughing before calling out his surname again. "Oikawa."

"Y-Y/n, did I do something wrong?!"

When Oikawa asked with teary eyes, y/n didn't say anything to it and just shrugged her shoulders before entering her classroom. Oikawa who was now left alone in the hallway, he quickly back tracked his actions, trying to figure out his mistake. "What did I do wrong?! I thought we were fine just a moment ago?! What do I do?!"

When Oikawa couldn't think of a reason, he immediately headed towards Iwaizumi. "Iwa-chan!"

When Iwaizumi saw teary eyed Oikawa, he groaned in tiredness. "What?"

"What do you think I did wrong?!"

"Do you even have something you didn't do wrong?"

"Iwa-chan, I'm being serious right now!"

Iwaizumi sighed. "Did y/n get angry at you?"

"I wouldn't say 'she got angry at me', but she called me by my last name!"

"THAT'S IT?!" Iwaizumi glared at him in disbelief.

"I said, she called me by my SURNAME and not my first name! That means she's mad at me!"

"Then you did something wrong," Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Just go apologize."

"I need to know what I did wrong in order for me to apologize! You don't know anything about girls, Iwa-chan! No wonder you don't have a girlfriend!"

"KUSOKAWA!" When Iwaizumi stood up with a menacing aura, Oikawa quickly ran away.

When school has ended, Oikawa was walking back home with y/n as usual. He constantly glanced at her in anxiousness, but y/n seemed to have forgot her prank a while ago that she smiled towards his way as she held his hand. "Tooru, let's go to a cafe before going home?"

At her smile, he forgot about his anxiousness as he nodded his head in excitement.

-----

Kuroo Tetsurou

Y/n was excited just by thinking about pranking him. As soon as she heard the entrance door open, she quickly headed towards the entrance with a serious expression. "Kuroo, welcome back."

When Kuroo heard his last name from her lips, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before grinning at her as he approached her. Not expecting this type of reaction, y/n's eyes widened as she unconsciously tried to backed away from him. However, Kuroo was faster than her. He quickly enveloped her into his embrace and lowered his lips towards her ear before whispering, "Are you calling me by my last name before you become Kuroo as well?"

Y/n's face flushed as she tried to push him away from him. "Who said I was marrying you?!"

Kuroo let her push him as he continued to grin at her. "Oya? I'm pretty sure you will marry me."

"How are you so sure?!" Y/n pouted as she crossed her arms.

"Hmm... I wonder how."

Y/n felt chills running down her spine at his smile that she quickly nodded her head. "Of course I'll marry you..."

Kuroo let out a chuckle before hugging her.

"Tetsu?!"

"I find it adorable that you try to pull this prank, but I do prefer it when you call me Tetsu."

-----

Bokuto Kotaro

"Bokuto."

Bokuto dropped his spoon in shock at the sound of his last name leaving her lips. When y/n saw his reaction, she instantly bursted out laughing. However, he doesn't seem to register her reaction as he entered his down mood.

"Y-Y/n...? Did I do something wrong?"

When Bokuto asked with a small voice, y/n smiled at his adorableness as she stood up without a word. Bokuto's eyes followed her movement as his anxiousness rose each second.

Before he could sink deeper into his down mood, y/n handed him a new spoon. "Here, Kotaro. You dropped your spoon."

When she called him his first name and smiled, his mood instantly brightened. "HEY HEY HEY!"

Bokuto went back to enjoying his food while y/n just shook her head with a grin. This was exactly why she enjoys pulling a prank on him.

[kazuhaiku]

love is the warmest color

summary: scaramouche finds love in you.

warnings: gn!reader, spoilers for a bit of scaramouche's storyline, fluff, really mild angst (almost non-existent)

notes: scaramouche oh how i love you so very much

scaramouche is used to people leaving him during the moments when he needs them the most. considering that his own creator has abandoned him due to her seeing no worth in him, he has always been cautious when creating new relationships with people.

however, that somewhat changed when he used the irminsul to wipe everyone’s memories of him, allowing him to create new and fresh memories, starting from being a student in the akademiya, which is where he first met you and formed a relationship with you.

“y/n can you hurry up?” scaramouche’s annoyed voice echoes in the empty classroom. “we’re going to be late!”

“shut up! i can’t find my pencil!” you exclaim, seeing scaramouche stand in the doorframe with a frown on his face. “can you at least help me look for it?”

“no,” scaramouche says almost instantly. “it’s your pencil, not mine. why do i have to be the one looking for it?”

“it’ll be quicker when you help me! you told me we’re running late for our next class, right?” you beg. scaramouche groans but walks up to your table, searching for the pencil with you.

“why are we searching for a stupid pencil anyway?” scaramouche asks, looking under your desk. “it’s just a pencil. we can always go buy another one after class ends.”

you gasp, almost as if you’re offended he said that. “how could you call it a ‘stupid pencil’?! you’re the one who gave it to me, remember? on the first day of class?”

scaramouche’s eyes widen, remembering the little gift he prepared for you on your first day as an akademiya student. it wasn’t even a serious gift, he thought it was quite silly in fact. 

a pencil as a gift? surely you won’t treasure it that much. he thought to himself, but oh how wrong he was.

“you-” scaramouche stutters. “you kept that piece of junk?”

“don’t say that!” you slap his arm, hearing him hiss out an ‘ouch!’. “it’s precious to me, okay? that’s the only gift i’ve ever gotten from you!”

scaramouche pauses. seeing you frantically look around for a mere pencil made him feel guilty. has he never gotten you any other presents besides the pencil? you have been dating him for almost two months now and a pencil is what he gifts you? so, instead of continuing to look for the pencil, scaramouche taps you on your shoulder. “hey um,” he suddenly feels embarrassed seeing your eyes focus on him. “we can go buy another pencil. it’s not like it’s the end of the world losing it.”

“but-”

“i’ll buy you more gifts in the future,” he continues, not letting you speak a single word. scaramouche’s cheeks turn red. “so stop crying over a stupid pencil and let me give you another gift.” you stare at him for five seconds before laughing. scaramouche’s head turns towards you, a scowl on his face. “wha- stop laughing! why are you laughing?!”

“sorry it’s just-” you giggle. “i didn’t expect you to be so… kind? i don’t even know the word for it.” you wipe a stray tear from your eye. “okay, i’ll stop looking for the pencil if it will make you happy. let’s go out on a date after school!”

scaramouche choked on his own spit. “h-huh?! why today? we have so many assignments due tomorrow!”

“aw, since when were you so diligent in assignments?” you tease, pinching scaramouche’s cheeks. “you said you’ll get me a gift, right? why don’t we get one today?”

“huh?! since when were people able to choose a date for receiving a gift?” scaramouche frowns. “i am not going to buy you a gift today. it’ll ruin the element of surprise.”

“so we’re still going on a date today?” you ask excitedly. “yay! thank you, scara!” you give him a kiss on his cheek, catching him off guard. “come on, let’s get to class! the sooner we get there the faster we finish.”

later when you and scaramouche are working on assignments in a nearby cafe, you find the pencil you have been looking for in the bottom of your bag, covered by the mess inside your bag (to which scaramouche berates you for, saying you’re not good at taking care of your items).

[oatmealthighs]

bigbro!choso x blackfem!babysitter!reader

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. overstimulation, rough sex, mutual pining, breeding kink, masturbation. i guess a lil stalking? choso's last name is itadori, yuji is a lil one, reader is black-coded and depicted to be a bit thick. but yea gets pretty nasty. minors gtf back

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 author's note: yea this is a bit more self-indulgent than i'd like to admit.... but nonetheless! i still hope yall like it! inspired by this work of art

“so you're the new babysitter, huh?”

his voice was so deep. it rumbled through your every limb, made every hair prick up against your melanated skin. your throat went dry as you looked up at the man so casually leaning against the doorframe to his quaint, humble home, towering over you as he observed you almost menacingly.

as choso itadori looked down at you with indifferent eyes, you couldn't stop your own from scouring, observing the way the black tee he had on was tight in all the right places, hugging and squeezing at his muscular biceps and clinging to his formed chest. his brown hair was tied up, spiky locks in two ponytails. black jewelry adorned his ears all the way up to the helix.

you felt small, under investigation as his dark orbs intensely pierced through your own. but you didn't waver, it was never in your nature to showcase your uncertainty. instead you smiled, glossed lips parting to show your pretty teeth. “yep, that's me! my name is [name].” of course choso already knew that, and maybe a bit more that he didn't plan on sharing with you. he had no shame when it came to investigating who he was entrusting the care of his baby brother to, yuji being his heart and rib, the only family he had left on this entire planet. he'd die for him, kill for him, do worse if it came down to it. but with you, all that extra shit didn't seem necessary to make clear.

choso knew you looked good from your instagram he managed to find after some digging, but your posts didn't capture the true, full essence of your beauty. the camera didn't necessarily capture the way your brown skin glowed and shimmered in light, or accentuate your curves like how they looked now. you smelled sweet, like yams and vanilla. the magenta yoga set you wore clung to your skin tantalizingly, outlining your curvy silhouette and the top zipped down just a little low to show a little cleavage. your hair was styled* into a neat bob, bluntly cut just above your shoulders, not a single hair out of place. your lips were lined a dark coffee brown and ombré’d into the pink natural color of your skin, coated with sparkly gloss. your large glasses sat on the bridge of your wide nose, a french-tipped nail pushing them higher up. choso continued to feign disinterest, but he knew the darkening scarlet brushing over the tips of his ears might be what would give him away if you took any notice.

luckily enough, your attention was drawn elsewhere, the sound of toddler yuji cooing as he waddled through the living room towards the front door making your eyes widen with adoration. you kneeled down to his height, yuji’s big brown eyes finding yours and him sending you a gummy smile. “and this must be yuji! ohh, you’re the cutest thing! making my heart swell.”

choso needed you for a short while, just until he could find a new daycare for his little brother. between him working over forty hours a week and using the weekends to focus on bonding with yuji and resting up, he never really had the time. or more-so, seeing how well yuji gravitated to you, how he began asking about you by just saying your name during bath time, how he always cried when you left, was what made it drop lower and lower on his priority list.

you were much more help than he expected you to be, and did far more than what he was paying you to do, which resulted in the extra hundred dollar bills he would sneak into your cherry coach bag every evening. it was the least he could do: you made meals, helped clean, always put yuji down to bed before you left. even did the laundry as needed. you insisted it was okay when choso told you you didn't have to bother yourself with tasks that weren't in the job description, and that you didn't want or expect anything extra out of it. but you stopped fighting against his generosity… not that there was ever a struggle.

some nights required choso to stay later, long past his typical return time of six o’clock, and some nights he wouldn’t return until 2am. he would come in from a particularly tiresome day at the hospital in his his grey scrubs and his hair pulled into a low ponytail. he would never be surprised to find you laying on the large sectional sofa, glasses still on but your bonnet tied tight around your head, under one of the extra blankets with your phone replaying a tiktok. choso always had the guest bedroom prepared for you but it was always all for naught, as the couch seemed to be your preferred place of choice. it was so soft, it had to be well over a thousand bucks. he never disturbed you, you deserved your sleep. at most, he’d shut your phone off and turn down the tv, and head upstairs to shower and prep for bed himself. he’d often hear you leave the house later that night or early in the morning.

choso was the strong, silent type most of the time. he was an action-driven man– if he didn’t say it he would show you. you knew he liked you for his baby brother when he asked how did you feel about hanging around yuji for a bit longer than anticipated one evening while you were just about to leave out for the day. or when he would sneak those crisply folded blue bills into your bag. you wondered what he did for work one day, and you asked him. he was an anesthesiologist, he said. and you knew he was rolling in the money then.

there were no signs of a woman in his life from what you’ve seen. no feminine hygiene products in the bathroom, no pictures, no particular scent aside from your own aroma of sweetness. no mentions of a “she”... not that you’ve ever talked about it. you wanted to pop the question, but you didn’t want to weird him out- you opted to just “keep things professional.” but shit, it was hard sometimes. choso was a nice-looking man, with a height of 6’3”, a hard, muscular build, and dark eyes that made you shudder when he looked down upon you with them. sometimes he would come home after a vigorous work-out at the gym if he had the pleasure of getting off on time, wearing a black underarmour compression shirt that would be so damn tight you’d see every sculpt and cut of his meticulously defined upper body. his hair would be down, brown tresses clinging to his strong neck, thick eyebrows knitted together at the feeling of sweat and perspiration sticking to his skin and his growing need to shower. you would be in the kitchen, just cleaning up since you wrapped dinner up not too long ago, and the smell would make his stomach borderline roar at him. he’d shower, then come back in a tee and grey sweatpants, damp hair hanging as he sat at the table and basically ripped apart whatever you had prepared for him.

sometimes, you’d be in a rush to go home. not because choso would make you uncomfortable or anything. never that… but you knew your body. you knew that warm pool of heat in between your legs meant nothing but trouble, and was something that needed to be handled, preferably asap. you’d rush into your little apartment, make a beeline to your bedroom and strip down to your bare skin before jumping into your silk pink sheets. you’d grab your vibrator and press it to your clit desperately, pussy squeezing around nothing as you threw your head back against the soft pillows. you’d pinch your brown nipple, bottom lip trapped in between your teeth as you moved your vibrator in small little circles. more and more, you’ve began imagining choso in between your legs, his large hands parting your thick thighs like the red sea as he ate you out, his tongue lashing at your clit and slurping up your honey like a man parched. you imagined him pinning you against a wall with those brawny arms of his, knees pressed to your chest as he pounded you, burying himself to the hilt as your pussy squeezed his thick, long dick like a vice. it would be so nasty… you could only imagine the way you’d be cumming around him, how he’d make you cream and release until you’re ran dry.

sometimes when you finish, you’ll feel ashamed, throwing your vibrator to the end of the bed as you squeezed your legs together and hid under the comforter with embarrassment. other times… not so much. the fire would still be stirring and burning within you, begging for something more, for you to truly be filled. there were times you were a smidgen too close to calling up one of your old flings, just to fulfill your desire of being stretched out once again and to just imagine the man over you was your employer instead.

your feelings didn’t go completely unrequited.

choso held his tongue for the greater good of professionalism and your comfortability, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t contemplate asking you to dinner a few times. from what he’s seen and observed on your insta, you didn’t have a special somebody. and he figured it would never hurt to ask. but choso was careful. he often opted to just not say anything.

he felt his gazes getting longer, his eyes moving more risky every time he’d see you moving about in his home working. he picked up that you really liked two piece sets, especially the ones made of sculpting spandex that always clung to your body almost provocatively. the way your ass sat in them, he was almost embarrased to say he dreamed about grabbing a handful of it, palming one of your cheeks with his entire hand. your glossed lips always caught his attention. he often thought about how it would look smudged on his skin, smeared across his own lips after tonguing you down.

your smell lingered. on the furniture, in the blankets, hung in the air. it was embarrassing how the scent of shea butter and vanilla was enough alone to make his dick stiff. it’s been so long since he’s rubbed one out. and he was doing a good job until you came along. he wasn’t proud to admit the amount of times he’s touched himself to you, his hips rolling his dick up into the clenched palm of his hand, soft squelching sounds filling his master bedroom. he’d imagine how you’d ride him, slamming your hips down against his own, your ass flush against his skin as you moan sweet nothings into his ear while he tried his damnedest to not nut in you.

the tension was growing thick. it could be sliced with a chainsaw at this point. but the both of you both opted to play it safe. until it spilled over… and it was bound to happen.

and it did.

"ouuuu, shit, choso!" the way that man was absolutely drilling you from behind was almost criminal, the deafening sound of his hips cracking against your fat ass echoing throughout the sound of the living room as he was trying his best to fuck you through the couch he had you drooling on.

you really don't know how you got here. well... you do. after all, this was the day you've been plotting and hoping on the moment you first seen choso's fine ass leaning against his doorway. it was like a dream come true, watching the way he deliciously hovered over you like predator over prey, his silky brown tresses draping around his sharp facial structure and his silver chain dangling, swinging in cadence with his hard, deep thrusts.

the two of you were just watching a movie, mr. & mrs. smith to be exact, courtesy of the invitation he extended earlier that night when you put yuji down for bed. an opportunity to "get better acquainted" over wine, gourmet chips, chocolates and a good action-romance.

"i see the way you look at me," you had stated boldly as you sipped your third glass of wine, the pillar to your sudden courage. "i know you notice how i look at you, too."

choso was sprawled out on the couch, legs spread and his arms thrown over the top. his head rested in one of his big hands, gazing at you through heavy-lidded eyes. he's silent for a moment as he looks at you so intently, his orbs filled with need, before he finally diverts his gaze to the tv. "yeah."

you look at the tv for a bit, not interested at all actually, but feigning it as you finished your glass. it was silent for a bit, albeit the sound of gunfire and car collisions booming through the in-home sound system, before choso speaks, "you can sit closer."

your scooting closer somehow led to you sitting in his lap, which led to a passionate, sloppy makeout session involving you straddling his firm thighs and his big hands gripping your entire ass in his palms as your tongue dived into his mouth. and all that led to him softly laying you on to the couch cushions, your lips never leaving each other's.

his lips are as soft as they look, yet leave scorching flames of desire in their wake as he litters passionate kisses all over your jugular and chest. he buries his nose into your skin, almost moaning at how sweet you smell and taste. as he continues to trace his name on your skin with his tongue, his fingers find the zipper to your purple yoga jacket, his eyes peering at up at yours through his thick lashes to ensure he has your approval.

you nodded your head gently.

choso made it his mission to show you he had much more to offer than some blue bills to you. you never depicted or predicted the guy to be an eater. but oh, were you pleasantly surprised.

that man can eat some pussy... and he does it like he gets paid to do it. he had you spread out like you were his dinner, and you were, your legs wide apart, knees bent. he sat on his haunches on the carpeted floor before you, spreading your lips apart and sloppily sucking at your clit that throbbed eagerly against his lips. he'd dip his head down, lapping up any of your leaking wetness before making out with your pussy yet again, his eyes trained on you and watching intently as your pretty face contorted into expressions of pleasure.

he'd make you cum all in his mouth, encouraging you to do so, never letting up as your thighs shook and vibrated, your eyebrows pushing together and your eyes fluttering shut as the bright hot warmth of your well-awaited orgasm overtook you, leaving you gasping for air. his compliments, "good girl," and "you taste so fucking good" would just get you all riled up again. choso came in his pants too, his ear tips bright red as he made it his duty to lick up all of your sweet nectar, but he kept that to himself.

that's not the only way he wants you though. he'll sit on his bottom on the floor next, his head resting against the couch, requesting for you to sit on his face. "what? choso, no, i'd crush you."

he'll take that as an insult of course. he benches twice your weight, easily. a little extra plush on the thighs wouldn't kill him, in fact, he'd love it ten times more. you'd saddle up, hesitantly brushing your pussy against his lips, and he'd look up at you, unimpressed.

"whaat?" you feign confusion, in reality, a bit shy and nervous at the thought of putting your weight on him.

"sit."

his words made every hair stand at attention against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. you bite your lip, your gloss long smeared off and all over his pale skin. you bring your weight down on him a bit more.

"all the way." fuck.

you do as you're told, and a deep moan of satisfaction rolls through him, his tongue already dipping into your dripping folds. and before you could even think about letting up, his strong arms are locked around your thick thighs.

he'd have you writhing in his grip, going insane at the way his tongue wrote love letters in cursive against your clit. he'd be damn near drowning in your release, your cum slicking and dribbling against his chin as you rolled your hips back and forth against his soft lips. you were chanting his name like a mantra, and it was a beautiful melody to his ears.

and lo and behold, that's how you ended up on a first class flight to poundtown, your eyes stuck in the back of your head and your manicured nails digging into the arm of the couch for personal brace as his huge dick kept brushing up against that soft spot of yours and his girth stretched you so damn good. you knew you were making a mess- you done squirted twice already, your juices rivering down the insides of your thighs and seeping into the soaked couch cushion below you. "fuck, please don't stop!"

"yeah?" choso breathes over you, his cheeks flushed pink from his endurance. you knew he wasn't slowing down no time soon... he told you about his daily four mile runs. his pupils were blown wide as he watched the way you managed to still throw it back at him, stilling his hips as he watched your hungry pussy swallow his length every time your ass sat plush on his lower stomach. "you like that shit?" his calloused palm smacked against your ass unforgivingly, the fiery sting setting you ablaze. he did it again, one more time for good measure.

you were losing it, moaning exasperatedly into the couch fabric as you gave him everything you got, tossing your ass back against him, trying to match the impact he was winding you with just a second ago. "yess, fuck yess," you whine. you reach your hand back, your nails clawing at his shirt and yanking it in a ball. "please, choso, keep fucking me like that."

"what, like this?" his large hands were at your lovehandles, squeezing the flesh there as his resumed his relentless rythym, his eyebrows pinching at the way you squeezed around him like a vice. you let out a wail, your cream decorating his veiny shaft, and he relished in the feeling, a deep groan of satisfaction bubbling from his throat. "shit, you just keep cumming.... what is this, your fourth time?"

actually your sixth, but you weren't gonna correct him. if there was anything you knew, you wanted more. the way the veins of his dick dragged against your walls was a wonderful, irreplicable feeling, his balls slapping your clit with each profound stroke. his thick fingers found your hair, tangling his hand in your locks and giving them a courteous yank, making your back cave and arch deeper as you let out a yelp of pleasure. any other time, you'd for sure cuss him out... but his dick touching your soul was plenty good of a distraction. besides, you knew your hair was long sweated out anyway.

he was gonna give you some money for a new hairstyle anyway. he was good for making up for it.

choso feels himself teetering against the edge, between the sounds of your disgusting squelching and the mess you left on him and his couch, your pussy still begging for more as it and all its sloppiness still squeezed him whole, and your pretty keens and gasps bouncing around the room, it was almost too much. he felt like he was losing it, the hearts in his eyes palpitating as both of his hands held your jaw from behind. "the fuck are you doing to me..." he mutters aloud, his eyebrows furrowed as you eagerly sucked on his thumbs with a slutty moan.

"you know, yuji gets lonely sometimes," he whispers, slowing his thrusts and leaning forward to crush you with his weight, his dick bottoming out and making you let out a cry as your eyes snapped wide open. he rolls his hips more sensually as he licks at the back of your nape, the cool metal of his chain brushing the skin of your back and making you shiver. his lips trail to your ear, tongue lolling out at the shell as he continues, "i'm sure he wouldn't mind a friend. you'd like that wouldn't you? for me to fuck you full until i got nothing left, huh? you gonna drain me of all i got?"

you nodded your head desperately as you hummed a whiny "mmhm", turning your head to the side as you watched in awe as the man over you was spilling over the edge. "yes, i'd love it, cho, give it to me... please?"

choso hums in satisfaction, his heart thrumming against his ribcage as your words made butterfly cocoons hatch in his stomach and his dick stiffer than ever before. "yeah..." he slams into you, winding you with power and force that insinuated that he hated you, but he'd only make such a dangerous, promising offer to someone he truly liked. let alone anyone at all. "i know you would. you're nasty as fuck."

you didn't know if you were to be terrified or turned on, but the way your core pulsated around him let you know you were the latter. he let out a breathy moan at your physical response, but it didn't stop him. not even for a second.

he wasn't letting up. you weren't getting any breaks. the way you would be teasing him wearing those tight ass clothes and smelling like you wanted him to eat you alive. nah. he was giving you everything you ever dreamed about, everything you imagined when you'd resort to using your little vibrator between your legs.

and you loved every fucking second of it.

[shitsndgiggs]

Hi Kaya! So yesterday night I got drunk for the first time, I was wondering maybe if you could do a hector fort one. Where he’s with his friends while she’s at her friends house having a little girls night with her friends and she’s just completely out of it but her friends have taken care of her but she just wants hector and she’s just all knocked out and stumbling everywhere and stuff. And he comes too pick her up after a face time call with her and her friends. And he’s so amused and concerned at the same time cause he’s never seen her like that. Love your fics so much!❤️I have the worst headache😭😭😭

A/N: Ooooh, getting drunk for the first time?! I hope it lived up to all your wild expectations. Nothing unexpected happened, right? If so, SPILL THE TEA🥳

DRUNK DIAL - HÉCTOR FORT

Héctor picking you up from a girls night

Héctor Fort x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Laughter filled the living room as the night carried on, the scent of pizza and popcorn lingering in the air.

My friends and I had been planning this girls' night for weeks, and it had turned out to be just as fun—and chaotic—as we’d imagined.

Drinks flowed freely, and soon enough, I found myself far more than just tipsy.

“Y/N, how many have you had?” one of my friends, Mia, giggled, watching me attempt to sit down but completely miss the couch and flop onto the floor instead.

I laughed hysterically, though my coordination was shot, and I was barely able to stay sitting upright. “I dunno,” I slurred, waving her off. “I’m fine! Totally… fine.”

Mia and the others exchanged amused glances, but I could see the concern creep in. They knew me well enough to know I rarely drank this much, but tonight had been one of those nights where I just let go.

Except now, I was paying for it by stumbling around, completely out of it.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re good?” My other friend, Lily, asked, kneeling down to try and help me up. “You look like you’re ready to pass out.”

“I’m not passing out!” I insisted, although my words were slurring beyond recognition. “But… I want Hector.”

They laughed softly, but it was clear I was no longer in any state to take care of myself. As much as they loved me, they weren’t about to let me destroy their apartment in my drunken stupor.

“She’s never been this drunk before,” Mia said, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and worry. “We should call Hector. She’s not going to calm down until she sees him.”

“I’ll FaceTime him,” Lily said, grabbing my phone from the coffee table. “Hopefully, he’s not too busy.”

As I flopped back onto the couch, I heard the familiar ringing of FaceTime, and then suddenly, Hector’s face appeared on the screen.

I could barely focus on it, but just hearing his voice made me smile.

“Hey, man!” Lily greeted him, trying to sound casual but clearly looking for help. “Um, we’re having a little bit of a situation here…”

Hector, who was out with his friends, looked confused at first but quickly concerned when he noticed the background noise and then saw me stumbling around behind her. “Is Y/N okay? What happened?”

Mia leaned over, showing me slumped on the couch, giggling at something none of them understood. “Yeah, she’s just… really, really drunk. We tried to take care of her, but she keeps asking for you.”

Hector blinked, his concern deepening, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “She’s that bad, huh? I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Neither have we,” Lily said, shaking her head. “She’s out of it, man. Do you think you can come pick her up?”

Hector laughed softly, though his voice was still filled with worry. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon. I just need to wrap up here with the guys. Keep her safe until I get there, okay?”

“Of course,” Mia said, waving off his concern. “She’s not going anywhere. We’re just… trying to keep her from knocking over any more lamps.”

I barely registered what was going on, my head fuzzy and thoughts jumbled, but the sound of Hector’s voice brought a small comfort.

I tried reaching for the phone, slurring, “Hector… where are you? Come get me!”

“I’m on my way, baby,” he said gently, his voice calming even through the screen. “Just sit tight.”

Twenty minutes later, I was still sitting in the same spot, though my friends had managed to get some water into me. Just as I was about to attempt to stand up again, there was a knock on the door.

“He’s here,” Lily said, jumping up to answer it.

Hector stepped inside, and the second I saw him, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Even in my drunken haze, just his presence made everything feel a little less chaotic.

He was dressed casually, jeans and a hoodie, but the look of concern on his face was unmistakable.

“Oh my god, you actually came!” I exclaimed, stumbling toward him. “You’re my hero.”

Hector chuckled, catching me before I tripped and faceplanted into his chest. “Whoa, easy there,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around me to steady me. “You’re a mess.”

I looked up at him, blinking slowly as if trying to process his words. “I’m fine. Just… maybe a little too much wine.”

“Maybe?” Hector raised an eyebrow, amused, but he was still clearly concerned as he helped me sit back down on the couch.

“I’ve never seen her like this,” Mia admitted, giving Hector an apologetic look. “We didn’t know she’d drink this much.”

“It’s okay,” Hector assured them, sitting beside me as I clung to his arm. “I’ve got her from here.”

My friends gave him grateful smiles, and I slurred something about being perfectly capable of standing up on my own—right before I nearly fell off the couch again.

Hector chuckled, catching me before I could fall. “Alright, alright, I think it’s time to get you home,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “You’ve had a long night.”

“Only if you carry me,” I teased, though my voice was far too slurred to sound coherent.

Hector sighed but with a fond smile. “Of course. Let’s get you home.”

With that, he scooped me up into his arms, and I leaned my head against his chest, feeling more comfortable than I had all night.

Even through the drunken haze, I felt safe with him, like everything was going to be okay now that he was here.

As he carried me to the car, my friends waved him off with thanks and promises to check in tomorrow.

Hector placed me gently in the passenger seat, buckling me in as I blinked up at him with a sleepy smile.

“You’re the best, you know that?” I murmured, my head lolling back against the seat.

“I know,” Hector replied, smiling softly as he brushed a kiss to my forehead. “But you’re going to hate me tomorrow when you have the worst headache.”

“I don’t care,” I mumbled, half-asleep already. “Just… don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said gently, brushing a hand over my hair. “Let’s get you home.”

And with that, Hector drove us back, his hand never leaving mine, even as I drifted off to sleep, the comfort of him being near making everything feel a little less blurry.

[lu-is-not-ok]

*rises from the grave*

*trips and falls flat on my face*

Heyyyy, it's ya boy, your favorite chronically exhausted Hong Lu identity that forgor about posting to Tumblr. Hi. Hello.

So. Timekilling Time, huh? Very fun, very exciting, we love focusing on Sinners that are misunderstood both in and out of character. We love Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu focus. We love Ryoshu's butch mustache swag.

Anyway, allow me yap about it a bit, because I took frame by frame screenshots of the teaser and I haven't yapped on Tumblr in a while. I'll also give a general update on how I've been doing at the end of the post for those who are interested.

The first thing I've noticed in the teaser is Dante actually lays out the exact traits that their choice of Sinners would need. These being (exact wording):

Someone who can support Dante

Someone who can remain laser-focused on the case

Someone who can be free from biased judgement while making rational, quick spur-of-the-moment decisions

In other words, we need Sinners who will help Dante out, are able to stay focused, and who can think on their feet without relying on their own internal biases.

I think it's important to lay those out as clearly as possible, because it makes the selections made by Dante and Verg very interesting, and also kind of funny.

Let's look at Dante's picks - Yi Sang, Meursault, and Faust. These are all, at a surface level, decent general picks, as all three of them are seen as smart and rational. However, if we look at them while keeping the previously mentioned traits in mind, it turns out these three might just be some of the worst picks Dante could ever fucking make.

The biggest issue - none of these bitches can think quickly. Faust is especially notorious for this, as it's consistently pointed out how she always needs a long time to come to a conclusion or otherwise has to pause to come up with answers. We also know Yi Sang is the type of person to get lost in his thoughts and just meander instead of getting to the point. Meursault is a bit of an outlier in that we see that he can think quickly, but if he's not given any orders he's never gonna act on those thoughts. Admittedly, he has been getting better at speaking up over time, but he's still mostly in this "only does what he's told to do" mode of operations.

This is where their issues split up a little bit.

Yi Sang is probably the most likely to be supportive of Dante out of the three - we see that he cares about others and has learned to interfere and give advice when he feels it's necessary (though who knows if he's doing well enough to keep that up after Canto 6, oof). No, rather his other issue lies in the focus department. This is the guy who, as I previously mentioned, meanders all over before getting to the point. Again, like Meursault, he has been getting better at not doing that, but he's still got ways to go.

Faust and Meursault on the other hand have the opposite issue. While they're fairly goot at staying focused on what they have to do, the issue is that they never fucking speak up. They're probbably the furthest from being supportive of Dante. They're most likely to learn info and just keep it to themselves until everyone has wasted way too much fucking time. Hell, Meursault would probably make a decently good detective if allowed to do the case all on his own, but since he's meant to be a part of a group, he's unlikely to help out that much without Dante directly ordering him around.

Now, onto Verg's picks - Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu. This is where things get really, really interesting. Because we have the reverse situation to Dante's picks - on the surface the choices seem random and counter-intuitive, but if we look deeper, it turns out they all fulfill the requirements surprisingly well.

I'm about to go on a tangent here, but I find it extremely important that we're focusing on this group of Sinners in the first Intervallo between what I consider to be the most thematically different arcs within Limbus. The first half of Inferno has been pretty squarely about confronting one's past, whether learning to face it properly after running away from it (Gregor, Rodya, Sinclair), or learning to move past it after refusing to let go of it (Yi Sang, Ishmael, Heathcliff).

However, looking at the Sinners we have left, it feels like the second half of Inferno might be focused less on the past specifically, but more about the Sinners' general reality. Especially the next upcoming trio of Cantos - Don Quixote, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu - have some heavy thematic focus on the idea of one's perception of reality, especially fitting for the three Sinners with weird eye shit going on.

With Timekilling Time focusing on the Sinners most misinterpreted by others in-character (and out of character), it feels like the perfect intro to this switch in thematic focus - exploring the actual realities of people who are otherwise hard to understand.

Anyway, back to discussing how Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu fit Dante's requirements.

Supportive of Dante - this is the requirement all three fulfill pretty well. Let me explain.

Rodya is probably the most obvious - she's a hypegirl through and through, and happy to take the reigns in some way or another if nobody else is able to, as we see in Canto 2. She's often one of the first people to point out when someone is not doing well, and shares a lot of her insight if in the mood, but she also knows when discretion is necessary.

Hong Lu is a fun one here - he's extremely perceptive and insightful, often sharing his thoughts with very little prompting. His only issue is that he tends to backpedal when he feels like he said something wrong, or generally just words shit in weird slightly offensive ways. He's supportive, he just doesn't always talk like he is.

Ryoshu is one I find most interesting here, as a lot of people seem to miss this about her character - despite her short temper and peculiar manner of carrying herself, she's actually pretty understanding and helpful towards people she's on amicable terms with. She always explains her acronyms if asked (and when she doesn't it's usually because people stop asking or Sinclair translates instead), she listens when told to stand down or otherwise do something when asked of by Dante or Sinclair, and the reason she tends to stay quiet is because she only speaks when she feels what she has to say is important.

Staying focused - this one is a bit harder to judge, but I'd say the only one who might not fulfill this one is Hong Lu, but only by a margin. Ryoshu is shown to get so focused she gets impatient when she can't get to the point, and Rodya always has her goal in mind even when she might act like she doesn't. Hong Lu is a bit harder to judge, as he seems to be the type to prioritze gathering information and satiating his curiostiy over the main goal, but in a case like this that might just be a massive plus.

Unbiased quick thinking - again, all three fulfill the quick thinking part very well. Rodya shows it constantly throughout Canto 2, Hong Lu shows it best in social interactions, and Ryoshu just doesn't want to waste time and so she naturally thinks quickly as well. It's when we come to the unbiased part that things get extremely interesting.

As individuals, Rodya, Hong Lu, and Ryoshu are all very biased people. Rodya sees the world from the perspective of someone who suffered in the poor Backstreets. Hong Lu sees the world from the perspective of a rich Nest dweller coming from a family of dubious morality. Ryoshu sees the world from the perspective of (probably) an ex-Ring member obsessed with the art that is reality. Their backgrounds color the information they take in a lot.

However... this means that as a group, all three balance each other's biases out. Rodya's cynicism gets balanced out by Hong Lu's idealism, which is balanced by Ryoshu's realism. Their backgrounds couldn't be more different, and thus give the widest possible perspective when put together.

I think this is the point Verg is making with this selection. Dante's selection is the easy way out. It's people that Dante already knows how to deal with, and would rather pick even if their skillsets don't fit the situation. Verg is making Dante learn how to work with Sinners who might be harder to deal with, but have skillsets more fitting for the situation at hand.

Dante can't keep half-assing everything by always turning to the same few people. Every Sinner in the group has their use and are smart in their own unique ways. They have to figure what every Sinner's strong point is, otherwise they'll end up putting everyone in danger by relying on people who are simply not good in a situation while ignoring those who could help.

So... that's what I think.

Anyway, personal general update - I'm still alive! And also very swamped with college and constant exhaustion. So, things will have to change a bit moving forward.

Number one - I will not be returning to old analysis requests. There's too many at this point, and I just don't have the time to sit down and write longass posts whenever I want anymore. However, that isn't to say E.G.O and Sin analyses will never return! I have plaaans for what I want to do with those moving forward, it just may take some time to materialize.

Number two - I'm generally just more active on Discord than on Tumblr. Yapping on Discord feels more natural for me, as it's just... less formal than making a full post I guess. So, if you want to discuss things with me, or if you're on a server that you think would do well with having me yapping in there, feel free to shoot me an invite link in replies (or in DMs if you don't want it to be public)!

Number three - Go check out the Absolute Pride Resonance event on Youtube! I'm not a part of it maybe next time wink wink nudge nudge, but you should still check it out cause it's a bunch of cool people doing very scuffed streams, as is fitting for the scuff Project Moon is known for.

Alright, that's it. I still don't know how to end Tumblr Posts. Bye.

[rafesbunny]

golf- r. c 🎀

where r gets bored watching rafe and his friends play golf

(sorry if this is bad or inaccurate 😭😭 when i go to the club i also do just sit there and look pretty i never actually pay attention on how to play golf fr 😭😭)

you sat in the buggy inspecting your freshly done nails, with many thoughts running through your head and you were insanely bored: what colour should you get done next time?; what food will you get from the club afterwards?; what should you wear tomorrow?; when will rafe be done with playing golf for the day?. the last one was especially heavy on your mind. it was a lovely day out and the uv index was high, and there was a light breeze in the air- perfect conditions to add to your tan. however, rafe had other plans for you today, he made you come and watch him play golf with topper and kelce. you knew you didn’t actually have to go but how could you say no when rafe swooned you over when he said, “y’know i can’t play without my pretty girl there, your my good luck charm” and that’s how you ended up bored in the buggy.

rafe had yet to notice your bad mood but topper caught on immediately after walking back after his play. as rafe stepped away after swinging and stood next to topper, topper asked, “is your girl okay? seems bored” before walking away from your boyfriend for his turn. rafe turned around to face you and lifted his eyebrow, which was his silent way of asking if you’re okay. but you didn’t give him the answer he wanted, instead you huffed and lightly rolled your eyes at him. as he chuckled at your behaviour and started walking towards you he shouted back to his friends, who were waiting on him to play his turn, “give me two seconds boys”. being the stubborn girl you were you refused to look at the boy looming over you, but rafe grabbed your jaw with one hand and forced you to look up at him, “whats up with you, huh?” but again you just huffed, “nah, none of that now, talk to me baby” unable to resist your boyfriends charm, you told him honestly, “so bored rafey. s’not fair we always have to do what you want. i don’t play golf, it’s so boring for me to jus’ watch you” you whined. rafe just started back at you with a plan forming in his head, “come on get up gonna teach you how to play. you gonna stop whinging if i do?”

reluctantly, you followed after him as he dragged you to where he put his golf ball and he shoved his club into your hands. he stood behind you and adjusted the club into the correct position as best as he could as it wasn’t the right size for you, when he was happy with that he said, “show me your swing babe” and pathetically you did, you were sure a four year old could do a better job than you. to make matters worse you could sense rafe smirk and suppress a laugh. trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp you whined, “don’t laugh at me rafe! s‘ not funny, i’m really trying.” he pulled you back into the original position, “ ‘’m sorry baby. promise i won’t anymore” with a kiss to the side of your head, “need to fix your stance” he muttered while kicking your feet more to the side, “and bend your knees slightly” he put some of his weight onto you, to get you into the position. for innocent people walking past, this would’ve looked very perverted, and topper and kelce laughed from a distance at the scene, clearly enjoying watching you struggle and rafe bend you in whatever way he wanted. you scowled at them and rafe guided your focus back to the task at hand, “ignore them baby, focus on this, it’s jus’ us” and with rafes assistance you swung and actually managed to hit the ball, though to your disappointment it didn’t go far at all. this made the two boys laugh even harder and a chuckle slip from rafe, causing you to storm back to your original spot in the buggy, “ugh, just take me home rafe! now!” and as rafe made his way over to you, he gave his friends a look that said “cut it out” and they followed after him. kelce was the first to speak, “better luck next time girl” and topper said, “yeah, y’have good form” you could tell they weren’t being sincere and this only added fuel to the fire but rafe was quick to extinguish it, “how about i take you to lunch and then shopping? as a sorry?” you tried to keep the mad act up but a smile crept onto your face, “really?” you asked meekly. lowering down to your eye level rafe said, “of corse baby, anything for my girl” you squealed and wrapped your arms around rafe. how could you ever say no to him?

[fredwkong]

Himbo Maker: Jean

Jean was deep into muscle. Ever since he’d been the smallest kid in his class every year in school, he’d felt an intense need to someday become the kind of guy who could really dominate a room with his body.

However, even as an adult, he was still a little guy. He’d tried for years, but no matter what, his dark-skinned body stayed slender. So instead, he spent all his free time on forums dedicated to muscle growth, living vicariously through the experiences of others as they gained muscle and posted pictures.

One day he received an unusual message request from another guy on the forum. He’d never seen him in the threads before, but his username was Himbo_mkr so Jean assumed he was probably here for roleplay.

Techie_jean: Hey man. What’s up?

Himbo_mkr: Not much bro. Just been chilling and looking at pix of muscley dudes. I noticed you don’t make many posts. You good?

Techie_jean: Guess I’ve just never done the smart thing and gotten myself a plan.

Himbo_mkr: Brah, you don’t need a plan! I can help you get big in just a few minutes! Wanna give it a shot?

Jean chuckled. Yep, this guy was looking for some roleplay. He looked around his room. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do this afternoon but play video games and build some Gundam. He may as well have some fun with this guy first.

Techie_jean: Sure! What do I have to do first?

Himbo_mkr: The first thing you gotta do is get dumb, bro! Muscles aren’t made with smarts, you need to have nothing in your brain but flexing, eating, and fucking to really build hot muscle.

Straight to the point, huh! Jean was about to type a message in character as a dummy when he felt a tingling in his head. His brain suddenly felt like it was full of cotton, he was having trouble putting thoughts together. Slowly, he made his fingers move. He had to really focus to string the words together.

Techie_jean: Bro… What’s happenin to me?

Himbo_mkr: You’re getting dumb, bro! When a guy gets really serious about getting big muscles, the power to do it comes from all of his useless brains! The smarter he was at the start, the bigger and dumber he ends up.

Jean… supposed that made sense? He couldn’t figure out how this guy could be wrong. He wasn’t really the smartest guy, after all. He scratched his head and looked around his room. It was like it was changing before his eyes, but that couldn’t be right either. No more video games, just a pile of gay muscle pornos. His gundam and other dolls replaced with sex toys and gear that he used to show off his skinny little body. Jean was definitely not smart by any means.

Dummy_jean: Yeah bro, I’m pretty stupid. What were we talkin about?

Himbo_mkr: Getting you swole, huhuhu! Now that you’ve drained your useless brain, your muscles are gonna get huge, bro! You’re a big thick muscle bro!

Jean gasped as an indescribable warm sensation overtook his whole body. With a crack, his back, arms, and legs extended, making him a towering beanpole of a man. His muscles started to vibrate, and then expand. His legs jerked as his quads and then his hamstrings inflated, and were quickly balanced by a thick, jiggly muscle ass. His pecs burst forth from his chest to form a sturdy shelf, and then his back thickened along with his lats, belly, and growing arms.

Looking around, Jean took in the changing space. There was a new dent in his dirty mattress from his huge body, and a weight bench and rack in the corner. Of course, he had to lift all day every day to keep up his bulk. The walls and ceiling were covered in pictures of all Jean’s favourite bodybuilders, his inspiration and his jerk material.

Dumbro_jean: Whoa, bruh, my muscles are gettin huge!

Himbo_mkr: That’s not all, bro! That thick Quebecois cock of yours is keeping up too!

Quebecois? Jean was a bit dumb, sure, but he was pretty sure he’d grown up in Atlanta… Quebec City, right. His dick lengthened and lightened at the same time, and the pale skin tone rushed over his still-growing body. A healthy layer of fat followed, leaving him looking absolutely enormous. Above the blond behemoth’s bed, a Quebec flag unfurled on the wall, showing his national pride.

Jean could barely remember who he’d been before. He knew he’d been smaller… smarter? He’d been American. The idea that he’d so quickly become this huge pale Quebecois stud had him grunting and palming his dick. Soon he was close, cursing quietly in his deep new Quebecois accent.

QC_jean: Calisse, bro, gonna cum!

Himbo_mkr: Yeah brah! Shoot that musky hockey bro load.

Hell yeah! Jean grabbed a used athletic jock that had just appeared next to him. He remembered: he’d worn it for practice this morning, and it was still warm and wet with his sweat. He loved being on the ice, and being around a whole team of big, dumb, sweaty Quebecois hockey players meant he was always leaking in his jock. He held the pouch up to his nose to inhale the musk of his sweat and precum permeating the jock.

His whole room was ripe with used hockey bro gear. Jean hated cleaning any of his equipment while he was on a points streak, and it’d been a few weeks since he’d failed to score in a game. The hockey stuff scattered on the floor was ripe with stale sweat. Being a hockey bro was so fucking hot.

Jean’s thick cock unleashed a torrent of cum as he continued to curse in Quebecois. When he came down, he gave himself a sniff and looked back at his battered old laptop. It was only good for porn and surfing forums, but a bro like him didn’t need it for anything else.

Right now, the browser was open to one of his favourite sports jock forums. He had a post all ready to go, a pic of him after the last game, half undressed in his sweaty gear with his hair stuck to his face, looking like a perfect dumb hockey bro. Quickly, Jean also snapped a picture of his spent dick and sent it to his friend.

Hockey_jean: Include this too?

Himbo_mkr: Definitely, bro! You love showing off your hockey himbo body.

Yeah, this guy was right about everything. No one loved to show off that he was a hot hockey bro for the bros more than Jean.

Inspired by a chat with a bot of my own creation. Format inspired by Codename: Bear_mkr by @biggerchanger

[kazumist]

EPISODE 13 ✿ LITTLE BY LITTLE

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 732.

with the past issue slowly dying down, you and diluc decided to lay low for each other’s sake so that you two could avoid such an issue appearing again.

“wait, so i just do that? how come it looked so difficult when professor maxwell explained it?" you exclaimed, shocked at how you didn’t get the process earlier.

he won’t even deny it. he has been warming up to you ever since that talk you guys had back then. ever since he was in junior high school, all he had were the other three. so for him, it felt quite refreshing that he managed to get along with someone new on a close level.

“maybe it’s because you were feeling sleepy again during his lecture.” diluc chuckles at you.

“hey, i wasn’t! though his voice really does have this sleepy effect whenever he’s giving a lecture... he’s so soft spoken for what?” you groaned, slumping yourself over on the table. 

-

if someone were to see you and diluc, one would most likely assume you're together as a couple, having a little study date in the library.

“you mixed these two up. first, you do this, then you do that," diluc explains, using his pencil to point out your mistakes. 

“actually, do you prefer a simpler way to solve this?”

“diluc, this is fucking calculus. of course i’d prefer an easier way," you deadpanned at him.

“alright, well, you can actually just use this formula instead," he says, writing it down for you.

you looked confused as you stared at the formula presented before you. “eh? but professor maxwell didn't teach us that.”

“that's because i derived it. look, if i use this formula,” writing down the proper solution using the derived formula that he's teaching you (however, you couldn't help but stare at his side profile instead of the one he was writing). “and there you have it. see? it's still the same result," he finishes.

“huh? wait, yeah! i think my life just became easier. what the hell?" 

“you're welcome.” he chuckles.

but who cares if they assume that you're romantically involved with each other? they can think all they want. what matters is that your only focus is the derived formula that just made your life easier.

oh! and the one who taught you that as well.

-

it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

but why—just why did diluc feel so... electric when your hands brush against each other? why did it actually feel nice when he felt your touch, even if it was just for a quick moment? this is stupid, diluc thinks; he just helped you pick up your pen, after all.

why did it make him happy to hear his name roll off your tongue so smoothly? it’s not like you say it in a different way than his friends. so what makes you say it so differently? what makes it special for diluc whenever he hears you say his name?

with a bit of remaining time left, you both decided to take care of some other schoolwork. but diluc couldn’t focus. no matter how hard he tries, his attention span for his own workload just ends up shifting to the girl working peacefully beside him—you.

he takes in your side profile. your index and middle fingers were pressed onto your temple, gently massaging it, a sign that diluc noted that you’re stressed about whatever you’re working on right now. your other hand lets go of the pen it was holding as you start to tap your fingers against the table—a habit you have whenever you try to brainstorm or think of something—and a trait that diluc noted down in his head (as for why he noted such a thing down, he’ll refuse to answer that).

you two are supposed to be only a tutee and a tutor to each other. neither of you should cross that line; diluc should know this by heart—after all, he’s the one who refuses to show any romantic interest towards anyone because he’s solely focused on his career. he couldn't—actually, no, he wouldn’t even dare take a tiny step into the gates that lead to your heart.

nonetheless, diluc accepts it. he accepts that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossing the line right now (or maybe he has already crossed without even realizing it).

it wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @haihelokuki @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @ratiolove @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5

[skywalker1dream]

title: the mystery

note: so i just watched Serendipity and i had this idea, but i changed things. hope you like it, hoping you are having good day or night. drink water and eat healthy <3

seabstian vettel x reader

Warnings: None?

---

The train to Italy rattled along the tracks, its rhythmic clattering a soothing backdrop to the journey. The summer sun poured through the windows, casting warm, golden beams across the carriage. You were immersed in a book, the pages a welcome distraction from the monotony of travel. As you turned a page, a flicker of light caught your eye. You glanced up, and your breath hitched.

Sitting across from you was a young man, not much older than you, with tousled blonde hair that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. His blue eyes were fixed on something outside the window, lost in thought. You couldn't help but stare, captivated by the way the light played in his hair, making it glow like a halo. He looked like something out of a fairy tale, and you found it impossible to look away.

Your gaze must have lingered too long, because suddenly, those blue eyes shifted and met yours. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but he said nothing. Embarrassed, you quickly returned to your book, cheeks flaming. The silence between you was thick with unspoken words, but neither of you made a move to break it.

Minutes stretched into an hour, the train speeding through the picturesque countryside. You tried to focus on your book, but the presence of the boy in front of you was a constant distraction. Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, he spoke.

"Do you always stare at strangers on trains?" His voice was light, teasing.

You looked up, surprised by his sudden approach. "Only the ones who look like they're glowing," you replied, your tone matching his.

He laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "I suppose I should be flattered then. What's so interesting about a guy on a train?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Maybe it's the mystery. Who are you? Where are you going? Why are you on this train?"

He leaned forward, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Mystery, huh? He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright, mystery it is. How about we choose nicknames for each other instead?"

You nodded, liking the idea. "hmm you look like a 'Sunshine' to me," you said, thinking of how his hair had caught the light.

He laughed softly, a pleasant sound that made you smile. "Sunshine, huh? I like it." He looked at you thoughtfully. "I'll call you 'Vögelchen' then."

You blinked, unfamiliar with the word. "What does that mean?"

He grinned. "It's a secret. You'll have to figure it out on your own."

You pouted playfully. "That's not fair. At least give me a hint."

He leaned in, conspiratorial. "It’s something small and precious."

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "Alright, Sunshine. I'll figure it out."

For the rest of the journey, the two of you talked about everything and nothing. You shared stories, dreams, and laughed over silly jokes. You felt an instant connection, a bond that seemed unexplainable. Every time you called him "Sunshine" his smile grew brighter, and every time he called you "Vögelchen" your heart skipped a beat, even though you had no idea what it meant.

-----------

"Do you travel often?" he asked, leaning his chin on his hand as he listened intently.

"Whenever I can," you said. "There's so much to see and experience. What about you? Have you been to many places?"

He nodded. "Yes. But it's always a rush, you know? I never get to stay and really experience the places I visit."

"That sounds exciting, though," you said, imagining the thrill of traveling for a living. "Always on the move, new places, new people."

"It is," he admitted. "But sometimes, I wish I could slow down and just enjoy the moment."

You looked out the window, the scenery a blur of greens and blues. "Maybe you should take a break sometime. Enjoy a place just for its own sake."

"Maybe I will," he said, his tone thoughtful. "Where would you recommend?"

You smiled. "Italy is a good start. There's so much history, so much beauty."

"I'll take your word for it, Vögelchen," he said with a wink.

He occasionally switched to Hase or Liebling, each nickname making you laugh and wonder about their meanings.

----

"So, Sunshine," you began, leaning back in your seat, "where are you headed in Italy?"

He shrugged casually. "I'm going to see some friends and take a little break. What about you?"

"I'm visiting family," you said. "I haven't seen them in a while, and they live in this beautiful old house by the coast."

"That sounds amazing," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I've always loved the coast. There's something calming about the ocean."

You nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. It's like all your worries just wash away with the waves."

He smiled, a soft, almost wistful look on his face. "Do you think we'll meet again after this train ride, Vögelchen?"

You felt a pang of sadness at the thought of parting ways. "Who knows? Maybe we will, maybe we won't. But isn't that part of the adventure?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess it is."

--------------------

As the train approached its final destination, a sense of melancholy settled over you. You didn't want the journey to end, didn't want to say goodbye to this mysterious boy who had brightened your day. When the train finally stopped, the two of you gathered your things and stepped onto the platform.

As the train began to slow down, signaling the approach to your destination, a bittersweet feeling settled over you. You didn't want this journey to end. When the train finally stopped, you both stood and gathered your things.

He turned to you, his expression serious for the first time. "Will I see you again?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

You looked into his eyes, feeling a strange sense of destiny. "If we're meant to meet again, we will," you said with a mysterious smile. "Let's leave it to fate."

He chuckled, shaking his head, looked disappointed but nodded in understanding. "Alright, Hase. Until we meet again."

You shook his hand, feeling a spark of something unexplainable. "Until we meet again, Sunshine."

You walked away, your heart light, and your mind filled with the memory of a boy with glowing hair and a captivating smile. As you stepped off the train and into the bustling station, you couldn't help but glance back, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him. He was watching you, his expression a mix of curiosity and longing.

With a final wave, you disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind the mystery of the boy named Sunshine and the promise of a future meeting.

You found a quiet corner of the station and pulled out a notebook from your bag. Inspired by your encounter, you began to jot down your thoughts, capturing the essence of the magical journey you had just experienced. The words flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, you had filled several pages.

Just as you were about to close the notebook, you noticed a small piece of paper tucked between the pages. Curious, you unfolded it and found a note written in elegant handwriting:

"Vögelchen,

Meeting you today has been an unexpected delight. I hope our paths cross again soon. Until then, keep shining bright.

~ Sunshine"

You smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. Carefully, you tucked the note back into your notebook and stood up, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. You had no doubt that fate had something special in store for you and Sunshine, and you couldn't wait to see what

weeks later, whenever you saw the sun shining just right, making someone's hair glow like a halo, you thought of Sunshine and that magical train ride. And you hoped that someday, fate would bring you back together.

---

Year had passed since that fateful train journey. You often thought about Sunshine, wondering where life had taken him. You had moved on, building a career and living life, but the memory of that golden-haired boy never quite faded.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourself at a motorsport event, the roar of engines filling the air. You were here on a whim, dragged along by friends who were fans of the sport. As you wandered through the crowd, you felt a strange sense of déjà vu. The sunlight was just right, casting a warm glow over everything.

You stopped near the paddock, watching as a group of drivers chatted animatedly. One of them caught your eye, a tall, blonde man whose hair glowed in the sunlight. Your heart skipped a beat as memories of that train ride flooded back.

He turned, as if sensing your gaze, and for a moment, time stood still. Those same blue eyes met yours, filled with the same twinkling amusement. He walked over, a slow, confident stride, and stopped in front of you.

"Do you always stare at strangers?" he asked, the same teasing tone in his voice.

You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. "Only the ones who look like they're glowing."

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "It's been a long time, Hase."

You felt tears prick your eyes. "Too long, Sunshine."

"And now we're here, in this chaos," he said, gesturing around. "Who would have thought?"

"I certainly didn't," you replied, still in disbelief. "Are you racing?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I am. It's been quite a journey since that train ride."

"Wow," you said, genuinely impressed. "I always knew you'd do something amazing."

He smiled softly. "Thanks. And you? What have you been up to?"

"Mostly work, travel, living life," you said. "But I never forgot that train ride. It was... special."

"It was," he agreed, his eyes softening. "Maybe we were meant to meet again after all."

You laughed, a sound filled with relief and joy. "Maybe we were. So, what now, Sunshine?"

He took your hand, the touch sending a jolt of warmth through you. "How about we start with catching up properly? And maybe this time, we'll keep in touch."

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "I'd like that, Sunshine. I'd like that a lot."

And just like that, the mystery was gone. You had found each other again, just as you always knew you would.

-------------

byeee

~ sent from my ipheon

[tossawary]

A handful of random thoughts about the "Ultraman: Rising", with some vague, marked spoilers here and there:

I like the fact that they didn't explain kaijus or where Ultraman came from. After so many superhero origin stories where we have to be slowly introduced to the existence of the supernatural, it's refreshing to get dropped in the middle of a "second-gen" (unclear how many generations of Ultramen exist in this universe so far) superhero's story. The movie isn't apologizing for its genre or its premise. It just goes, "Yeah, you know what a superhero is and what a kaiju is, so let's go already. No, we're not even really going to explain how Ultraman's powers work. That's not what this is about!!! It it about our protagonist's daddy issues!!! Keep up!!!"

If I think about the world building, I do have some questions, like who built the protagonist's fancy tech house that's also a superhero base, but it's not too important. I assume his dad built it and then moved out to give his kid space? OR: "Why do the kaijus seem to attack this place specifically?" This movie works mostly because it's like "this is classic superhero stuff and we're just not dwelling on the logistical setup too much"! It leaves you to fill in some blanks on your own or just suspend your disbelief, which works.

The pacing was a little weird in places and the movie does get a little ridiculous in parts, I'm never quite sure of what the capabilities of these characters are, but it's a superhero vs. kaiju animated movie and that's to be expected. I still enjoyed myself well enough.

A few of the character designs didn't super work for me, like the big-headed kid characters. The kaiju baby is maybe a little too cutesy, but she was very cute and I've forgiven them because they didn't shy away from babies being gross. (There is... A LOT of baby kaiju vomitting.)

I did really like some of the other character designs. I liked the protagonist's big nose and pierced ears and bangs falling in front of his sharp face; he looks like such a dirtbag pretty boy. I like the lean in the industry right now towards more stylized and geometric 3D character designs in general, because I think that the shapes are fun and they'll age better this way.

Dirtbag guy to single dad is a winning story formula, huh.

They did a lot of 2D-style effects in this movie that I thought looked fun. I dig that trend in the industry right now as well. Some of the scenes were a little clean, almost bare, in terms of environmental design, but the colors generally looked great. Some of the scenes were really bright and vibrant and pretty.

(Mild vague spoiler?) There's no romance in this movie, which was surprising when they definitely set up a female journalist in the position for a love interest. No, it's a "strangers to friendly acquaintances" relationship for them. The female journalist is also a single mother, which was interesting, because you don't get a whole lot of career-minded single mother love interests in animated movies.

(Unimportant spoiler:) She told the protagonist to his face that she thinks he has daddy issues. Not stated quite like that, of course, but it was pretty funny. She was also right about that.

The emotional focus in this film was instead about the protagonist, Kenji, repairing his relationship with his father and also taking care of the kaiju baby. Kenji's only friend and co-parent for a chunk of the movie is an AI assistant (Mina) his parents made.

(Unimportant spoiler:) Stumped by an issue, Kenji makes a frustrated comment about how maybe he should ask Siri instead. Shortly after, in response to a different statement, the AI assistant Mina makes a passive-aggressive comment about how maybe he should ask Siri instead. I found that pretty funny.

(Mild spoiler:) Ultraman in this universe is a known and popular superhero and has been for decades. At one point, the baby kaiju gets out into the city, and Kenji has to go get her before she gets hurt or hurts someone else, and he publicly tells her to "Come to Daddy." And this is overheard by a bunch of nearby civilians, who gasp loudly. It is quite funny. It doesn't really come up again, but even if that wasn't recorded, you just KNOW that the news and the internet went wild over that revelation. "Ultraman had a baby with Gigantron???!!!"

(Another mild spoiler:) At one point, Kenji asks the female journalist for some parenting advice, and she IMMEDIATELY asks him if he has a secret love child. (No one is quite sure why this baseball star suddenly came back to Japan from the U.S., as they don't know he's Ultraman.) Kenji denies it, but I'm pretty sure that she must still think that he does.

(Continuing:) Kenji's baby kaiju parenting struggles (along with his ego) are fucking up his baseball career, due to stress and lack of sleep and conflicting commitments. We aren't shown a lot of interactions with his team, but I desperately hope that he also asked a couple of his teammates for parenting advice or something, so that his team could also immediately assume that he has a secret love child.

Like, "Yeah, yeah, Kenji Sato's secret love child, we all know about it. The poor kid is really bad at hiding it. We're trying to keep it hidden from journalists for him, but the whole team knows he's a new dad, for sure." (They do not know that Kenji is Ultraman and the baby is a kaiju.)

All in all: this movie was fun! Very silly, but cute! I think that I might try to pick some other "Ultraman" shows or films out of the dozens that exist, and try some of those ones out. The property seems to exist in a similar vein as "Transformers" where Rule of Cool rules world building and canon is whatever the newest iteration wants it to be.

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

Part 8/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 3.6k

**********************************************

Yourusername tagged Charles Leclerc in their story

It was the first race of the season and the official ‘hard launch’ of yours and Charles’ relationship, from this point you were allowed to start posting clear images of each other - but you had been begging the team to have a proper meeting about your reveal but Mattia kept pushing it, delaying and delaying until it was too ‘inconvenient’ because of the race weekend and the focus would now be on the upcoming race instead of you. Instead, you were told to just keep your head down and focus on your performance on and off the track as both Charles’ girlfriend and as Thirty.

Your jaw felt tight as you pulled your Ferrari polo over your head, Charles humming softly behind you as he gathered his things for the day - in seemingly much higher spirits than you. The car had performed well during testing and so his hopes were high for a good result in the first race. “Are you nearly ready to go, y/n?”

“Yeah, of course. Just need to grab my bag… I dropped most of my stuff off at the motorhome yesterday.” You smiled, taking his hand as he offered it to you. “You ready for quali?”

“I’m actually buzzed.” He said, grinning and pulling you closer. “Starting the season off with a new car and with the best girl at my side?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Charles, I’ve been at your side for years.”

He playfully narrowed his gaze, lifting his hand to cup your jaw - leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “You know what I mean, don’t be a tease. I’m sorry that they keep dismissing your meeting, I know it must be getting frustrating.”

“You have no idea.” You sighed softly. “And I want to talk to them about us as well… I don’t know if they’ll want to handle this differently now there’s real feelings involved.”

“Well, either way I’m here for you. I know I say this a lot but I like you and regardless of what they say I can see a future for us.”

“Those are some big words, Charles… you really think about the future like that?” He could tell your voice was timid, that you were unsure.

The Monaco native simply nodded. “Not to scare you off or anything. I know it’s quick to say it but I’ve always felt strongly for you and this whole situation has just cemented it for me.”

“It doesn’t. I’ve just… I’ve just been alone for so long it feels strange to have someone who wants to stay in my life long term…”

The fact your admission didn’t shock Charles broke his heart- having the career you did, didn’t allow people to get close and those who were lucky enough to be in your life, like your father, were nowhere. He wanted to be that person for you, the person you could always turn to even if the rest of the world seemed to turn its back.

“Well, you’re stuck me with me for as long as you want me around.” He spoke softly, almost as if he was scared that his voice could break you if he raised it.

You gave him a gentle smile before the two of you head out to the paddock for qualifying day - they wanted to use you and Charles coming together as a distraction from the Thirty rumours, so you complied. You knew biting back would just result in them pushing your meeting further and further but you just couldn’t afford to get sued either. You were under their thumb, so for now you had to let them play their cards before you showed yours.

Although you knew yours and Charles' relationship was F1’s worst kept secret, you were surprised just how many people seemed to care when you stepped into the paddock hand-in-hand. Your teammate seemed used to it, chatting idly away to you as you made your way to the Ferrari motorhome but you couldn’t help but sense every single pair of eyes that fell on you.

“Look at the lovebirds, so cute!” You turned at the sound of Carlos’ voice - his Redbull teammate not too far behind. “I approve of this pairing.”

“That fast, huh?” You teased.

“I’m just surprised it took you so long.” Max chimed in. “We’ve all known each other for nearly 2 decades at this point… so if anything, this is slow.”

“Carlos didn’t know us.” You corrected. “It was really nice to spend time with everyone in Bali though, I felt really welcomed.”

The two Redbull drivers both gave you kind smiles, your childhood friend went to speak again but they were ushered away by their coaches - wanting to get them ready for free practice. You would have to disappear into your mask for the next few hours, put on your persona - visor down, race suit on. Charles gave you one more kiss on the cheek before ushering you into the motorhome, making it seem as if you were simply a couple spending some time apart. But you were subtly guided into your driver's room to get ready yourself.

You just wanted this weekend over with.

*********************

Yourusername added to their story

You and Charles sandwiched Max on the grid when the race finally rolled around, the Champion’s teammate beside you on the second row. You knew Redbull were going to be tough to beat, their car seemed significantly better than last year and with Mercedes seemingly struggling the fight was going to be between you and them. Your third championship was within reach and you were going to fight tooth and nail to get it - not letting your relationship with Charles sway that. Sure, you wanted him to win his first but at the end of the day, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that feeling again.

It was dark as you sat in the cockpit of your car, eyes flickering across the track in front of you as the team worked on your car. Your race engineer repeated race strategy over the comms to you and you simply nodded along - tapping your fingers on your steering wheel.

Charles walked past your car and patted the halo lightly, sending you a smile before heading to his own car - race helmet hanging from his fingers. His fireproofs clung to his figure and you couldn’t help but study his figure; his broad shoulders into his little waist - it was crazy the way some of these men were built and the Monegasque was no exception to that. There were many times during your trip that you wanted to throw caution to the wind and just have your way with him. But you needed to behave, as much as you wanted to enjoy these new feelings with him, getting another Championship was at the front of your mind.

As the cars circled the track in the formation lap, your mind cleared of everything - it was the first race of the season and you were determined to make it the best one yet. If you were going to take your helmet off some day soon, you had to make sure everyone remembered why you had the seat in the first place. You deserved to be here and you had to prove that to yourself and everyone else.

You pulled up to your grid spot, angling your car in just a way to get the best start. And with one more deep breath, the lights began to count down.

“It’s lights out and away we go.”

The first race of the season and you’d got a 1-2, the absolute perfect start - it couldn’t have gone any better, especially with both Redbull cars not finishing the race. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Charles wrapped you up in a hug - his strong arms squeezing you tight. “We did it!”

You held in your laughter knowing there were cameras nearby that could pick up audio and gave him a squeeze back. A warm touch was placed on your shoulder and you turned to see the kind eyes of none other than Lewis, the Redbull DNF meant he was joining you both on the podium - he’d been one of your biggest rivals the last few years but he always had nothing but kind words to say about you, even in during your toughest battles.

“Amazing race today, Thirty. Just saw a clip of your overtake on Checo before he went out, so smooth.” He smiled, his gaze flickering across your helmet.

It took everything in you not to thank him, so you simply gave his hand a firm shake. He gave you an understanding smile and went back over to his team. You could see the media hoping you’d come over for a post-race interview but before you could even think about it you were ushered straight inside to wait for the podium. Their fear you would reveal the secret was becoming larger each day, especially with the speculation - so any time they could get you away from the press they would.

“You didn’t say anything out there did you?” Your handler spoke up, you shook your head. “You didn’t do anything that would give you away?”

They were the standard questions he asked after every race, but more than ever they irked you - you’d been doing this for years, they just never trusted you. You bit your tongue and nodded again, wanting nothing more than to take your helmet off and run out on the podium.

“Good. Now, you know the next bit - go out, get your trophy, champagne and then back to your room.”

A stray tear rolled down your cheek, the worst part of it all was not being able to celebrate with your team after the race. Share your achievement with the people who had helped you get there. It broke your heart. Sure, they had Charles’ win to celebrate this time but when it had just been you on the podium you watched them all cheer without you. This time however, you were caught a little by surprise when on the podium, Charles’ hand came up to rest on the side of your helmet - it was just for a moment but the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. And with no nearby mics to pick up any audio he leant in and whispered.

“Champagne in your room after this.”

You were so glad to be wearing your helmet because your cheeks flushed as dark as your race suit. God, I wish I could kiss you right now. You were brought back into the moment as your visor was coated in champagne by Lewis, the Brit smiling big as he tipped the bottle over your helmet. You returned the favour by spraying him directly in the chest - savouring the moment of celebration before you were locked away.

It was then you decided to put your toe across the line, as the three of you stepped off the podium and out away from the cameras - you turned to Lewis, approaching him before your handler could haul you away. “Thank you. For everything… I-”

Before you could get another word out, your handler grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away - not before you managed to get a look at Lewis’ reaction. His face had split into a big smile. “Thank you as well!”

You were practically shoved into your room by your handler, who slammed the door behind you. “What the fuck was that? You know the terms of your contract, y/n. Are you trying to get sued?!”

“All I said was thank you.” You said calmly, finally pulling your helmet off. “The media knows I’m a woman so what’s the harm in saying thank you to Lewis? I could still be anyone.”

His jaw clenched. “You better hope he says nothing or else this will have big consequences.”

He left the room in a huff when you didn’t respond, simply slumping on the sofa - letting your head roll back onto the back. Your eyes fluttered closed as you finally took a moment to yourself to be happy with your result. P2 in the first race of the season. If this is how the rest of it was going to be then maybe your third championship really was possible.

“Knock knock.” Charles pushed open the door just enough to come into the room with a bottle of champagne, locking it behind him. “As promised… felt wrong celebrating without you.”

Your teammate sat beside you, offering you the bottle of which you took a large sip. “That was, uh, cool what you did… with Lewis.”

“Could’ve fucked my entire career but-” You shrugged. “Honestly, fuck it. I’ve raced him my entire career… I would’ve said more if-”

Charles chuckled and draped an arm across your shoulders, letting your head rest against him. “You said plenty. You have no idea how much that meant to Lewis, he was absolutely buzzing. Giggling like a little school girl.”

That made you smile. “Oh, good… I really… I don’t regret doing it, I know Lewis understands what I’m going through - I trust him to keep his cool around the press even if I don’t have to ask.”

“Cheers to that.”

You tilted your head to look at him, his green eyes already directed at you. His hand came up once again but this time could rest on your skin - his thumb brushing across your cheek before he pressed a chaste but meaningful kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you savoured the feeling, chasing his lips as he pulled back - just enough where you could feel his breath against your skin.

“...be mine?”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Am I not already?”

He scoffed playfully. “You’re such a tease, mon amour… please, be my girlfriend… for real.”

“Mhmm, pretty boy. Love when you beg” You giggled softly, pressing your lips to his. “I’d love to be your girlfriend, Charles.”

You weren't sure what response you expected but he simply rested his forehead against yours, his hand still resting on your jaw - a small, soft smile on his face. “I really like you, y/n. And no matter what happens with your career, I’ve got your back. You’ve been through hell and back for this team and I won’t let them tarnish your reputation.”

“Thank you… and just for the record, I really like you too.”

A knock on the door summoning Charles to the media pen brought you both back to reality, and with one more kiss he left the room - allowing you to turn on the TV just in time to catch none other than Lewis in front of the camera.

“Congrats on your first podium of the season, Lewis, how are you feeling?”

He nodded eagerly. “Really good, I’m really happy - I know the Redbulls not finishing definitely played its part and we have some work to do with the car but yeah I’m very happy with the result.”

“You had some nice words for Thirty after the race, did they give you anything?”

You chewed nervously at the skin around your fingers but just as you predicted Lewis simply shook his head. “Nothing. They’re as elusive as ever.”

“Thank god.” You mumbled, finally deciding to strip out of your race suit and back into your polo shirt - putting your admin disguise back on before your handler finally decided to send someone to let you out of your room.

When you entered the garage, you started helping pack away - post-race was always the most frustrating for you. To blend in they insisted you do the extra work, but you were exhausted - you’d just done nearly 60 laps of a grand prix and then they expected you to do grunt work too? It was almost as if Charles could hear your internal monologue because he came up behind you, leaning across your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“My girl… let’s get you out of here, hmm?” His voice was low. “You’ve worked hard enough.”

You let out a sigh of relief, turning to face him. “You read my mind, my hero.”

He lent in and kissed you, his hand finding its home on your jaw - feeling bolder about his affections now you were official outside of the contract. You had almost forgotten that this had all started off as fake but was now very real. He wasn’t kissing you because he had to, he was kissing you because he wanted to. And you were still trying to wrap your head around it all - but while you did, you were going to enjoy every second of it.

When you pulled back from the kiss, you locked eyes with your PR manager who gave you a thumbs up.

“I almost don’t want to tell them it’s real.” You scoffed lightly, taking his hand to tug him out of the garage. “Let them just think we’re really good actors.”

The Monaco native chuckled softly from beside you, squeezing your hand. You were hoping to escape from the paddock, so you kept your head down - your Ferrari cap blocking your face but alas, you were walking next to Charles bloody Leclerc so it was never going to be easy. He was very quickly distracted by some fans at the barriers, stopping to sign and take photos. You waited patiently, playing the role of a good girlfriend, but let your eyes scan the rest of the paddock.

You turned your head when you felt eyes on you - Lewis’ intense gaze had fixated on you from across the way as Bono spoke to him. The cogs turning in his brain were almost visible - like he was putting the pieces together. You gave him a shy wave and he gave you a two finger salute before nodding towards a small passage between two of the Mercedes motorhomes.

“U-Uhm, I’ll be back in a second, Charles.” Your boyfriend acknowledged you with a simple smile, allowing you to slip away towards the former Champion.

It felt bizarre, sneaking into a darkened alleyway with Lewis Hamilton but you were intrigued by what he had to say. There was barely a foot between you as you stood with your back to the wall, his eyes studying you through long lashes. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“...it’s you isn’t it.” His voice was quiet, eyes boring into yours. “You’re Thirty.”

You pressed your lips into a line and he raised a challenging brow, daring you to deny it. “How did you figure it out?”

His smile alone was worth it. “I could never forget your voice… I can’t believe it’s really you.”

There was a different look in his eyes, as if he was really seeing you for the very first time - his rival, his fellow driver. “I… I have so much I want to say to you, y/n. Maybe we can have a proper talk sometime? I’ll give you my number…”

You were collecting Champion’s phone numbers like pokemon cards at this point - after giving you his number and making him text you so he had yours he placed his hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, not too dissimilar from the one he’d given you after the race. “It was nice to meet you for real, y/n. Don’t be a stranger.”

It took a moment for you to catch your breath before you returned to Charles who had finally drawn away from the fans to offer you his hand - frowning a little when he saw the clearly exasperated look on your face. “Everything okay?”

You dragged him back to the car, letting out a deep breath - the driver still staring at you with concern. “Lewis knows.”

“...fucking hell. I saw him in the media pen, he didn’t say anything. Reckon you can still trust him?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Don’t think I have a choice.” You chuckled nervously. “So that's you, Sebastian, Max and Lewis… Do you think anyone else is suspicious of me?”

“If they are, they’ve not said anything to me.”

The car park was slowly beginning to empty as the rest of the grid made their way to their cars and bikes. You studied each of them, Fernando, Esteban… Yuki… Valtteri… any one of them could suspect you but you’d never know. You let your eyes return to Charles who still had a worried look on his face, so you lent across and pressed a deep kiss to his lips - this time he was the one chasing you as you pulled back; his chest rising and falling and the green of his eyes almost hidden in its entirely by the depth of his pupils.

“How about…” You said, feeling breathless yourself. “...we go back to our hotel and celebrate our podium.”

His eyes widened a little. “You mean-”

“Oh, I mean…”

You lent in, your hand brushing up his thigh as you whispered absolute filth into his ear - you could practically feel his heart racing as you cupped the back of his neck to kiss him once again. Charles had to fight every urge to pull you into his lap and take you right here in the car park but you deserved more for your first time together. He moved back again and started the engine. you gave him a playful smile.

“Take me home, Winner.”

****************

Gif credit @yesloulou

Next part >>>

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[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 5. “I’m not jealous”

Warnings: none… except a joke about yuta having a kill list

note: MORE WRITING :> i’m sure you guys are tired of it

“What are you two weirdos doing.” You watch Maki and Yuta sending each other odd looks. Was this really because they were arguing over who was your best friend?

“Nothing.” Maki crosses her arms as she looks away, clearly pouting.

“Uh huh.” You give her an unamused look before looking at Yuta with the same look.

“What?” He shoots you an innocent look. “Oh and I want you to meet that friend I was telling you about!”

You watch as Yuta calls out to someone from the other side of the room, motioning for them to join your table group. As the summoned boy approaches, you start to notice some… oddly familiar features.

Platinum blond hair, hazel eyes… a surgical mask (which you found a little odd). Despite wearing a mask during your nighttime adventures with Yuta, you never wore it at school to avoid any unnecessary attention.

But something about the boy in front of you with the mask just gave you a sense of déjà vu. Like you’ve seen him somewhere before…

“It’s you!” The pieces finally clicked.

“You know him?” Maki gives you a surprised look.

“He’s the hot weirdo I was telling you about!” You pointed at the boy.

Maki just stared at you, an amused expression on her face. One awkward cough from Yuta later and you realized you spoke a little bit louder than you expected.

“My bad. Sorry about that.” You awkwardly smiled.

“Well this is Toge Inumaki. He’s the friend who i’ve been meaning to introduce to you guys for a while actually.” Yuta smiles slightly.

“Nice to meet you!” You chuckle.

“Yo.” Maki gives him a nod, which the blond returns.

“So, Inumaki! Tell me a little about yourself!” You focus your attention on the newest member of your table group.

Inumaki doesn’t respond. At least not verbally. Instead, he pulls out a little notebook and flips to an empty sheet and hands you the book.

‘I’ll answer whatever questions you have’ The paper reads.

You happily take out a pen of your own, writing down all sorts of questions that you could possibly have for the boy.

‘How old are you?’

‘17’

‘What’s your favourite food?’

‘Tuna mayo onigiri’

The two of you eventually take turns exchanging questions ranging from simple hobbies to deep philosophical questions, completely oblivious to your other desk mates.

Yuta stared at you smiling at Inumaki, an ugly feeling settling in his stomach. He had to physically cover his view of the two of you in order to divert his attention.

“I didn’t know you were friends with Inumaki.” Maki raises an eyebrow at the boy.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Met him in English since he sits right next to me.” Yuta shrugs, looking back at you and Inumaki scribbling away on a sheet of paper.

The two of you continued to communicate through paper for the rest of class, occasionally pretending to pay attention to the teacher to avoid getting in trouble. And before you knew it, the bell had rung, telling everyone it was finally the end of the day.

You happily packed your bags and walked out of the room with Yuta and Maki. “See you tomorrow!” You waved to the blond boy before you left.

“Any fun plans tonight?” Maki yawned.

“Nope.” You and Yuta responded in unison. A smile appearing on your face as the two of you look at each other.

“Maybe I’ll stop by later.” Yuta gives you a smile.

“I’ll be waiting then!” You grin.

“Alright lovebirds, I’m off, see you guys tomorrow.” Maki waves as she stops at her locker. “Don’t do anything gross.” The teasing was clearly directed at Yuta, but he made no attempt to make that obvious.

You shoot the girl a smirk before wrapping your arm around Yuta, giving her a sly grin. “Who knows? Because unlike you, we enjoy physical contact with each other.”

You’re so absorbed in your playful banter that you totally miss the way the face of the boy next to you turns red. Regardless, he shakes it off before the two of you continue down the hall.

Boy was he thankful of your obliviousness.

Masterlist | Next

new character met! ╰⇢ Inumaki!

- congratulations! you've successfully met everyone! -

fun facts:

— maki and yuta are always fighting over who is your favourite person (yuta has a one up on maki because he’s your childhood best friend)

— aside from maki, nobara was the first of your friends to notice yuta’s longing looks at you (megumi is a close second) which then sparked the beginning of the ‘cupids’ group chat

— inumaki was actually the one to talk to yuta first in their english class

— maki’s pov in the ‘cupids’ chat <3

taglist:

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @emii4evr @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny @instantmusico @sad-darksoul

[phyrestartr]

Easy Prey (An Underestimation) | Miguel x M!Reader

Brother's BFF Miguel! x Male!Reader W/C: 3.2k

#NSFW, college party, cringe dirty talk, butt plugs, bussy loading, alcohol usage, pot usage, vaping, reader is a little shit, miguel gets got, fluff, it's kinda cute tho, consensual sex, car sex

--

"Who is that?" Miguel asked over the howl of party-goers and blasted music. He held his shitty beer in one hand, and a weird concoction of juice, something and…something suspicious in his other hand. Lyla really knew how to embody college in her get-togethers. 

Sebastian glanced at who Miguel gestured to with the tilt of a chin, and he burst into drunken laughter. 

"Dude. No. Nooo no no, nope. That's–nope," he answered, very helpfully. "Just very no." 

Miguel rolled his eyes as his best friend's girl kissed her man, and stole away Miguel's chance of learning just who the alt weirdo lounging on the couch was. Christ, people in love were so fucking annoying. 

"Why, what's his baggage? Drug dealer? Academic dishonesty?" Miguel took a deep drink from the red solo cup and grimaced. "Fuck, what the hell is in this?" 

Sebastian let his girlfriend kiss his neck as he finally gave Miguel an answer. "That's my little brother, dipshit. You remember (Name)? I've only mentioned him like a thousand billion times." 

"Huh." Miguel sipped his beer this time. 

(Name). 

Yeah. Through the haze of booze and the boom of the bass, Miguel did recognize that name. He didn't know you had such a pretty face, though. 

Seb smacked his friend's shoulder. "He's sooo off-limits, dude, so off-limits." 

Miguel scoffed, brandishing an arrogant smirk on his handsome face. "Says who?" 

"Says me, you fucking whore–you're not going to stick your horse dick in my baby brother, you got that?" And he sounded serious, but Miguel didn't really care much. "Hey, hey, if you fuck him, I'm gonna rip your cock off and shove it up your ass and then light you on fire, Miguel. I'm so fucking serious."

"Baby," Seb's girl cooed, "why don't we go wind down a little, huh? I think you need to lay down and cool off." 

"Yeah, go lay down, Sebby," Miguel chided.

"I–but I–okay, I'm gonna go do a 'lil nappy nap," he started, letting his girl drag him away from his arch nemesis, "but when I come back, you better've not cum in my brother, you hear me, O'hara?" 

"Bye bye, sweet dreams," Miguel called instead of answering. He downed the cursed solo drink as soon as Sebastian was spirited away and made his way over to you. 

Miguel more or less brute forced his spot on the couch next to you, pushing between you and some other guy that was getting too handsy with his prey. The other guy threw half-assed complaints and curses at Miguel, but one simple condescending glance had him backing off. Hah. So weak. 

"Woah, you really just–just made a spot for yourself, hey?" You said, earning his attention back. "Kinda hot. Really hot. You're hot." 

Miguel smirked as he looked you over. He liked the sound of your voice, and the lazy, relaxed gaze you met him with. Normally, he didn't go for the softcore scene type, but the black nails suited you, as did the ring showcasing your septum. 

"Couldn't ignore a damsel in distress," Miguel leaned in to say before he slipped his arm along the back of the couch. "I'm Miguel. Miguel O'hara." 

"Cool. You fuck guys?" You licked your lips and, oh god, was that the gleam of a tongue stud he saw?

Excitement bubbled in Miguel's gut. "Straight to the point, huh? I like that." He finished off his beer and set the can down to focus on you. "I fuck anyone with a pretty face."

"Oh. Wow. Damn." He watched your leisurely fingers touch all up and down his body. The firm pushes and soft pinches were left in the right places, like you'd done this before to other men. Miguel figured he was probably the best specimen you'd ever laid eyes on.

And then you kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, it did feel natural, like you'd been dating for years and had done this a million times before, but still drowned in the excitement of one another. 

Miguel anchored one hand to your waist while the other freely travelled from your shoulder to your neck to the side of your face. He jolted when your fidgety hand slid down to his clothed cock and gave a hearty squeeze. Damn, you really were straight to the point. 

But the way you kissed was another story--you took your time, licking deep into his mouth and prodding behind every tooth to commit Miguel's mouth to memory. You made the sweetest noises, too, reacting to however Miguel decided to taste along the top of your mouth, how he bit your tongue lightly to stop it from leaving him. It'd been so long since Miguel had a partner like you. 

"Let's take this somewhere else," Miguel whispered into your skin while his hands started to wander to your hips, your waist, your legs. "Unless you're an exhibitionist freak." 

"Woooah, you'd fuck me right here if I wanted? And they say chivalry is dead." Miguel laughed something genuine, only cutting off when you kissed him. "But no, no, I like gettin' messy in privacy." 

"Then let's get messy."

Miguel picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder. The choked half-laugh, half-squawk you let out earned you a sharp slap on the ass as he stole you away to eat you whole, like a jaguar dragging its kill up into a tree for a little privacy. 

He could navigate Lyla's house easily, expertly dodging the flailing limbs and spilling drinks of party-goers as he searched for somewhere quiet to take his prize. But every room he checked had its own lust-crazed college students busy fucking or about to get things started. 

You piped up from your spot on Miguel's shoulder, though, suggesting the perfect place to fuck: your truck. 

"Pretty big," Miguel commented as you both rushed to fold down the back seats to make more room for playtime. 

"Mmmn, I like big." You slammed the boot closed before shuffling back to him. "Bigger is better." 

Miguel grinned wolfishly before pinning you down. "Glad you understand." 

You helped him pull everything off of you from the waist down before you yanked him back in for another sloppy, drunken kiss. His hands, broad and calloused from years of lifting weights, felt up every inch of exposed skin, from your waist, to your thighs, to the powerful curve of your calves, and back up again. Admittedly, he didn't expect you to be in-shape. You weren't built like your brother, a buff, tall meathead; you were built more like a runner: slim, toned, agile.

"Wait, wait, wait," you gasped when Miguel's kisses started migrating lower and lower. The man looked up at you, brow quirked, impatience tugging down the corner of his mouth. "I wanna–" 

"Nope," Miguel cut in.

"Whaaat? I just–'M not allowed to feel you up–? I wanna see your muscles," you whined.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Don't care."

Miguel ignored your drunken complaints while he focused on getting you prepped and ready for his own satisfaction. Sure, he liked letting his prizes fawn over him, obsess over his muscles and leave feverish touches on his tawny skin, but time was of the essence; who knew when your brother would roll up and ruin things? 

He leaned back up and stuck his fingers into your mouth for a few, rude thrusts before yanking them out and easing your legs open so–oh. 

A twinkling, pink, heart-cut gem winked at him in greeting, and a jolt of excitement went straight to Miguel's straining cock. He swallowed as he watched it flicker and gleam with every little shift of your impatient hips. Part of him wanted to leave it in. But the worse side of him wanted to yank it out, and give it something to hold in. 

"What's this?" He asked, patronizingly as he gave the plug a bit of a tug. "Guess you are a freak, huh?" Miguel asked in a rich, smokey tone. 

But instead of getting embarrassed and shrinking away like he expected, you just wiggled your ass tauntingly. 

"'S a buttplug," you said matter-of-factly. "Wanted to get laid t'night." You reached your mischievous hand down between your legs and drummed two fingers against the crystalline base. "Stuffed lube in first. Makes hookin' up fast 'n easy," you explained as you gripped the heart and started to tease the plug free. Miguel's hand caught your wrist before you could get very far. 

"And people call me a degenerate," he laughed. Miguel pulled your hand away and took over, watching with rapt attention as the silvered metal plug started to emerge. "But you're just…somethin' else." 

You mewled softly and your thighs tensed the slightest bit when the plug slipped out before a generous amount of lube oozed from your emptied hole. Miguel eagerly scooped it up with his fingers and pushed it back inside. Knowing him and his size, he'd need every last drop. 

"People call you a degenerate?" You said through a snorted laugh. "Why? You're like–you're so–" you gasped in the same way a 90's horror final girl would when you caught sight of The Thing being pulled from Miguel's pants, "--b-big. Wow. Big. Can I take a pic?" 

"What? What do you–can you–no, Christ." He sighed as he stroked himself with your slick and didn't waste much time with foreplay or warming up before mounting you again. "Think you might be worse than me after all, you know that?" 

"Probably am." You squirmed a little under his body as he caged you in, his thick arms bracing on either side of your head, and his hard, heavy chest looming above you as he got his massive frame comfortable in the trunk of your truck. It was insane to think that, even with the seats down and nothing in the way, Miguel still almost didn't fit. Part of you kind of thought he might weigh more than the car, too. Hm. 

But finally, finally, Miguel dragged the hot tip of his cock against your soft, pliant entrance before jamming himself inside with a blissed-out sigh. 

"Fuck," he breathed before pulling out the slightest bit and pressing in deeper again, and again, and again, until he bottomed out. His nerves flared when your hand slipped down to your own weeping length and stroked yourself, selfishly chasing your high with no regard for Miguel. 

He scoffed, and bitterly refused to hold back. The pace started off brutal and fast, Miguel using you the same way you were using him. Annoyance fuelled his tempo. He didn't know why your lack of giving a shit aggravated him, but it did. And he didn't like it. 

But when he finally got a breathy, thin gasp out of you, he smirked. 

"Oh? Finally something out of you. Tch." He folded you in half and hiked your legs over his solid shoulders to drill into you harder. Another small sigh fuelled his ego. "You like that, huh? You like being bent up, outta sorts, fucked by a stranger at a party, huh? That get you off?" 

The ladies always crumpled under his heinous words and dirty talking; their expressions warped into something pathetic and embarrassed, they'd make the worst discount pornstar noises, or they'd cum right on the spot. It was a great thing, a beautiful thing, something that Miguel prided himself with quite a bit. 

So why were you shaking with bottled laughter? 

Miguel's eye twitched. "What's so funny?" 

"Y-you just–you talk like you watch too much porn–! I'm just s-saying, man, this is kinda wild." A confusing mix of laughs and gasps punched out of your lungs as your back started to arch. "I-It's making it hard to cum–" 

"Shut up, just shut up–you're making me regret this," Miguel bit out, trying to hasten his pace to finish up and leave you in the dust. "I didn't know you were so fucking annoying." 

You moaned sweetly as he nailed that sweet spot of yours perfectly, before never hitting it again. "Awe, boo hoo, gonna cry 'cause I think your dirty talk's cringe? Life is sooo hard–" you squeaked as he pulled back and out abruptly. Your legs clattered to the ground and you barked out another hyena laugh as Miguel moved to tuck himself away with the most unreal sour expression you'd ever seen. 

"Hey, hey, hey, don't give up," you cooed. "Come on, you know you wanna finish the job. I'm so submissive." 

"I fucking can't with that fucking annoying fucking mouth of yours," Miguel grumbled before spitting bars of Spanish at you. 

Feeling a rush of energy, you tackled him as well as you could in your truck, and managed to wrestle that hulk onto his back. He was glaring at you when you finally managed to straddle him, but in a sort of embarrassed-mad way, not a real pissed off look. Still, you had to test the waters. 

"Off," Miguel said. 

"Woah, woah, woah, I can do the whole dirty talk thing if you want," you bartered. 

"No. Off." 

"Come on," you whined before leaning down to his ear and dropping your voice down into a dripping dark chocolate, "you're such a good boy, Miguel, let me treat you right." 

And with a greedy little wriggle of your hips against his stiffy, Miguel was doomed. 

"Fucking–fine, you little–" but he couldn't finish that thought, not when he suddenly found himself plunged back into your tight heat. 

"Bah, come on," you prodded as you rocked your hips at a selfish, primal pace. "Say it if it gets you off." 

With a mind of their own, Miguel's hips jolted up to meet your downwards momentum, and a near animalistic cry hoarsely tore through your throat. And once again, Miguel couldn't help the jerk of his pelvis grinding up against you–you were proving to be too much. 

"Fuck," you gasped. You stroked yourself again, now faster and with the broken tempo of your chaotic coupling. "You like being dominated? That it? Told what to do 'n then get some praise for being so, so good?" The laugh you let out could only be labelled evil. "Mmmn, that's hot." 

But Miguel couldn't speak, not through his mind blanking bright white every time your bodies crashed together. Even when he tried to speak, only gasps and pathetic moans and pleas slipped out of him, suddenly begging you to fuck him harder, to make him finish, to let him cum inside of you and mark you as taken for the night. Reality felt so far away and numb, even when he knocked his head against the ground as he came.

You felt his nails bite your sides as liquid heat filled in the space where Miguel couldn't reach. Miguel's teeth clenched together with an audible clack as you laughed at him, riding him for all he was worth, using him past the point of over stimulation without a care in the world. 

"Shit," you moaned quietly, then chanted it over and over, breathing faster and harder as you pushed yourself towards the edge. But you were a little shit, so of course you scrambled to push up Miguel's shirt just before you finished, just in time to streak sticky white webs of cum onto those well-defined abs of his. 

Miguel finally caught a break. He held you in a vice grip, not trusting you to behave while you both calmed down and fought to steady your breathing. Your fingers trailed across his stomach and abdomen, tracing the dips and curves of hardwork and dedication, and also smearing trails of your spend on him. 

"I've decided. I hate you. So, so much," Miguel said. He let his eyes fall closed again as he accepted his fate. 

You laughed, more amused and playful than mean and mocking this time, and drummed your fingers against his sticky skin. "Yeah. Fair. Kudos to you for being a good sport, though." You paused for a moment. "Wanna get high?" 

"Yes." 

Shockingly, you were quite good with the aftercare; you took it upon yourself to clean the both of you up with a plethora of wet wipes, paying special attention to the mess you'd made on Miguel's stomach and leaving no trace behind on him. As for yourself, you stuffed the silver plug back into your ass and called it a day, only really needing to clean up any sin that'd escaped your insides. 

You both more or less got dressed, and then you hit the vape. Miguel wasn't a stranger to Mary J, but he didn't often vape. He was used to messy blunts rolled by idiots like your brother, but admittedly, he kind of liked this more. 

"It's not bad," Miguel remarked as he examined the silvery pen. "Lot less…y’know." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get what you mean." You stretched languidly across Miguel's lap, and plucked the pen from his fingers. You took a deep, lazy drag while your newfound friend exhaled a cloud of vapor. "Smoke works better for hot boxing, though. Blunts do, I mean." 

Miguel hummed, lost in the haze of his thoughts, warmed by the buzzing in the back of his skull and your weight across his lap. His fingertips dipped beneath your clothes, absent-mindedly seeking comfort in the heat of your body in his lap. His broad palm pressed flat against your stomach, and you rested your smaller hand over his. 

"You think the, uh, the chick who owns this place is gonna freak if I crash here?" You asked before crafting a few smoke rings. "'M toootally fucked up. Driving's a no-no." 

"Lyla won't care," Miguel said with a yawn. "She's a witch, but not a psycho bitch." 

"Hah. You know her?" 

"She's basically my sister. Unfortunately." Miguel huffed and shook his head.

"Oh, cool, cool. She's fire. Like her. Really chill, but in, like, a smart way," you rambled. 

"Pretty good way to put it." Miguel smiled. 

"Yeah? Yeah. I'm kinda smart sometimes, too. Not super smart, but, y'know, selectively smart." You nodded and stretched again with a yawn. "That's how I bag hot guys. Like you, I guess. But this was more fun. You're more fun 'n a better sport than most guys I mess with." 

Miguel stared at the foggy windows. Fun. That's what he was thinking, too. He never had the chance to smoke a joint or indulge in aftercare with most of his one night stands, but it's not like he'd gone out of his way to make that happen, either. He'd never really had a partner mock him either, though. You were kinda weird. But in a good, fun way. 

"Yeah. I had fun," Miguel admitted. When his eyes slid back to you, you were grinning, and a sweet dusting of strawberry powder lit up your soft cheeks. Miguel couldn't help his own smile. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"Oh. Cool, cool." 

"Wanna go out with me?" The question caught Miguel by surprise, too. He didn't really commit to people. He didn't really become exclusive with people. But hey, people changed. 

You fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Mmn, what's in it for me?" 

"Bragging rights." Miguel smirked. "You know how many people want me?" 

"Hmm." 

He huffed, now, your skepticism doing a number on his ego. "I–well what do–you'd get dick, big dick, get chauffeured around, I'd pay for dates–" 

"Would you go see a musical with me if I asked?" 

Ah. The ultimate test. 

"...Yes." 

"'Kay. We're gonna go see Grease tomorrow night–uh, tonight. Technically." 

A grin split Miguel's face and ached his cheeks. "Alright." 

You smiled back. "Alright." 

"Just don't tell your brother." 

"Lame."

[god-complex-12]

I've read alot of your moon knight stuff and am a big fan. So if you dont mind can I request Steven grant trying to power bottom for the first time but reader just takes over and fucks him instead.

Tried Your Best *

— Paring; [Mr. Knight] Steven Grant x male reader. Fandom; Moon Knight/Marvel

Quote; “Bet you won’t be trying this again, huh?”

Disclaimer; SMUT. Restraints. Embarrassment. Dumbification. Riding. Teasing. Penetration (Character receiving). Sub Steven. Dom reader. Amab reader.

Word Count: 0.9k

Masterlist

A/N: If you know me irl (you know who you are) do not read this. Thank you for your request and once again, I am so so sorry for how long it has taken me to get to these requests. I am sorry. I’ve just been really really busy, please forgive me. My request will remain closed until I can get these other ones out.

Steven was tired, so so tired. His thighs ached, and his dick throbbed. He was sweaty and his face was red with frustration and embarrassment. He felt both under and overstimulated. His movements never stopped, but his pleasured moans did. He only panted in desperation. He looked like a wreck. His hair was messy and his brows were knitted together. He was supposed to take the reins, but Steven couldn’t even please himself, let alone Y/N. He was pathetically sloppy, losing all the rhythm he had before.

Steven looked down to the restrained man below him. He cringed at Y/N’s smug expression. He whined and stilled himself — almost in defeat. His face was red with embarrassment. He gripped at Y/N’s shoulders, his nails digging into the flesh in frustration.

“Need help?” Y/N asked with an almost- no, a taunting grin.

Steven’s pathetic glare made Y/N chuckle teasingly. “Come on.” Y/N gentured to Steven’s desperate state with his head. . “You’re getting nowhere like this. Let me help you.” He tried to offer.

Steven whined. “You’re more bottom than power when you make noises like that.” Y/N said with a taunting grin and laugh.

Steven tried moving again, only to stop again in defeat. He begins to fist himself in desperation. His frustration grew every second he was deprived of a release. Y/N gripped at the rope around his wrists. “This is sad to watch.” Y/N lied, Y/N loved watching every but of this. Every single bit.

“Shut up.” Steven grumbled. Any snarkiness in his voice was gone, instead he sounded whiny and shaky. He went back to trying to move again, but he was quickly met with the same disappointing fate. Steven whines in frustration. He shoved his red face in his hands as he let out a dramatic sob.

Y/N looked up at his restraints then back to Steven. His eyebrows rose in an offer. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t have to. His face said it all and Steven understood immediately.

Steven hesitates to undo the rope that bound Y/N to the head board. Y/N grins as his hands are free. He rubs his slightly sore wrists. He then leaned up and kissed Steven. He gently flipped both of them — Steven on his back, Y/N hovering over him. Y/N’s hands roam over Steven’s thighed and chest. Y/N was slow at first despite Steven’s whines in protest.

Y/N began moving. A moan escaped Steven’s mouth as his eyes squeezed shut as he finally felt some relief. He was slow at first. The urge to cum came quickly for Steven from all the over-under stimulation. Y/N puts his hand on Steven's cock and begins rubbing his thumb on the tip. Steven bit his lip and moaned.

Y/N sets a fast pace, his thrusts way more coordinated than how Steven was before. Steven's moans and gasps filled the room. His eyes were squeezed shut as if to focus on the pleasure he wasn’t able to get before. He felt his orgasm was approaching way quicker than he had expected.

“I’m close- oh, shit- I’m close.” He moaned out. His arms wrapped around Y/N.

Y/N chuckled. “Oh, yeah?” He said, tauntingly.

Steven groaned and his head shot back into the pillow. He bit his lip and hummed in confrontation. Y/N snickered at the sight. “Come on, Steven.” He said with a grin. He gripped Steven's thighs.

Steven practically sobbed as he came all over himself. Y/N fucks Steven through his high. “Don’t you feel so much better?” He cooed, gently rubbing circles on Steven’s thighs. Steven pants and nods frantically, his eyes still closed.

Y/N continues to move, this time at a slow pace so as to not hurt the man below him too bad. Steven doesn’t stop him despite the pain — instead, he finds a bit of pleasure in it. Y/N slowly picks up his pace again. Steven whined in the slight overstimulation, but it felt too good to stop. Y/N attached himself to Steven's neck, leaving a pretty little mark for the morning.

Steven felt all control leave him when Y/N hit the same spot over and over. His mind hazed over with lust, pleasure and pain. Multiple pleads spill from his mouth. “Please, please, don’t stop.” He begged. “Oh, please.” He babbles out nonsense.

Y/N’s chuckle was cut off by a moan himself. Steven desperately clawed at Y/N back. The mix of pain and pleasure caused Y/N to groan. Y/N leaned down and kissed Steven. Steven was too out of it to really kiss back, but he tried. Y/N chuckled against his lips when he realized he was fucking the poor guy dumb.

“Bet you won’t be trying this again, huh?” He teased.

“Shut up.”