#maybe it's because I have been on a diet for a few months now

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I know crumbl is bad for workers and the calories are horrendous etc etc but tell me why I am obsessed with watching people eat it?

[frecklenog]

i want you all to understand this.

insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.

the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.

lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.

i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.

to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.

this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.

we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.

here’s a masterpost of how you can help.

EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically

[mandarinmoons]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gender neutral reader

Word count: ~ 600

Summary: Spencer breaks up with you after seeing how much his job at The BAU affected you as he didn’t want to be the cause of your declining mental health, but ending the relationship had the opposite effect on you than what he thought

Spencer lied on his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to give into his desires of grabbing his phone and calling you because lord knows he’s the last person you’d want to talk to. He missed you terribly, but he knew you would be upset at him if he were to try and make contact.

The reason for that being is that Spencer forced himself to end things with you because he saw how his work life affected you. He’d lost track of how many times he’d found you fallen asleep behind his door for when he got home. He’d unlock the door and scoop you into his arms, his body shuddering from the cold that emanated from you. Or how he took notice of your thinning figure. You made sure that Spencer always had a full dinner platter whenever he got home, but he often saw you only finishing half of what was on your plate.

“I ate before you got home, I’m not that hungry,” is what you’d always say, but it didn’t stop Spencer from worrying.

After a few months of consideration, Spencer bit the bullet and tried his best to let you down easy. But unbeknownst to him there was never a way of doing things that way, because he was the love of your life and that day was the day you felt your heart break into so many small pieces that it would be impossible to mend it back together.

Spencer kept on imagining all of the ways you’d improve now that he wasn’t in your life. Maybe you’d learn to cook more or perhaps maybe you took on those yoga lessons you’d been dying to try out.

In reality though, you were having a hard time getting dressed and even harder time getting out of bed. You had your mother and friends check up on you daily to see how you were doing and every time you’d respond with “I’m okay,” when that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Half of the day was spent either lying in bed trying to read one of the last books Spencer had gifted you or being sat on the sofa while watching a crime show, the same show you’d watch while waiting for Spencer to come home, and now hoping that he’d magically come up to your door take you back.

A majority of the week's diet consisted of supernoodles and the occasional piece of fruit so you wouldn’t feel like complete crap. You’d chuckle to yourself bitterly as you’d remember a fact about the fruit you were having that was told by Spencer. Most of the time you didn’t understand any of the terminology he’d use, but you still loved to listen to him talk and as you ate away, you realized you’d never get to experience it again.

As much as it brought you a bit of ease whenever each day was over, it also brought along a bit of misery with it as it finally dawned on you that Spencer was really gone. He would never hold your hand again, he would never kiss your forehead again and you’d never hear the three words you loved most that came from his mouth,

“I love you.”

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz @gubsbuubs @multifandomsimp69 @chyozai @deppfanatic @potatovoyager @indyvelazquez @nini123 @justlivinginadaydream @kers505

If you'd like to be removed from the taglist send me a DM or a message in my inbox

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Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[frantic-fiction]

Reunions

(Pic: lovelybluebirdie) I cropped it a bit

Astarion x gn!reader, Astarion x reincarnated!Tav

Summary: A few months after reconnecting to your past life as Tav, a party is set to meet the rest of the group. You're nervous, worried about not living up to who you once were. Will you be enough?

This is a little part 2 of I'll Find My Way Back to You

Notes/ Warning: Pretty much just fluff. Reader is insecure. Astarion is a supportive partner. I kept all 6 origin characters alive because it's my story and I don't want to imagine any of them dead. Also, Halsin's here cause druids live to be like a thousand or whatever.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You're not panicking. Why would you be? It's not like you're meeting a group of people you've only met in dreams—a group of strangers you've painted for the better part of your existence- a family forged through hardship from a past life you're still trying to remember fully.

No, you're not panicking. You're not scared that the people who are so excited to see you will not like what they see. You're not terrified the family Astarion has helped you remember will look at you disappointed once they realize you are no longer the Tav they once knew. You're not worried at all. Not. One. Bit.

You spent the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom. It was sparkling, and your fingers ached from the hours of scrubbing you filled in the restless day with. No surface was left untouched. Bookshelves were dusted, baseboards were spotless, and even the top of the cupboards, where no one would ever see, were wiped down. The floors were swept and mopped three times now, but you keep finding spots you missed. Astarion even physically stopped you from scaling the roof to clean the chimney when you ran out of things to occupy yourself with.

There's a roast in the oven, potatoes, and veggies cooking alongside it, and a pie cooling on the counter. You wanted to cook more, but you were worried that not everyone would like blueberries or that someone had turned to a plant-based diet. Astarion quickly reminded you that they used to eat food out of dusty barrels and mildewed chests.

Currently, you stand in front of your floor-length mirror. Astarion is out on a quick hunt before the party arrives, leaving you to obsess over your thoughts of inadequacy. The majority of your closet littered the floor. You're scrutinizing a simple tunic and legging combo. Was it too simple? Should you wear something more eye-catching?

You're trying to remember what Tav would have worn. All you can recall is blood-stained armor and simple camp clothes. But this occasion garners something more. Fuck. Stripping off the current outfit, you replace it with an almost identical one and look at yourself in the mirror again. You weren't sure what you expected, maybe to magically love this pair of pants and old tunic. But in reality, you were just as frustrated and worried.

The clothes weren't the problem, you knew that, but it was easier to be pissed at a blouse than to accept that you were scared. You were frightened to face Astarion and Tav's friends. You have Tav's memories and feel an odd kinship with these people. But you weren't Tav, and you would never be them, at least not entirely.

You felt like an imposter to try and convince anyone otherwise. Tears of frustration and disappointment in yourself began to trail down your cheeks. How could a silly artist hold a candle to the kind and heroic savior of Baldur's Gate? You glared at yourself, wishing things could have been different.

You jump when you feel cold arms wrap around your torso and a warm kiss at the nape of your neck. Astarion loved to use his lack of reflection to sneak up on you. You, on the other hand, hated it. Still, you found yourself leaning back into his firm chest.

"Hello, my love,"

You try to stop the pathetic sniffle, but it's useless. Astarion turns you in his arms and cups your jaw. "Darling," is all he says because he knows. Of course, he knows.

That simple pet name causes the floodgates to open, and you crumple into Astarion's chest, nuzzling his neck. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. Astarion lets you cry, knowing how nervous you've been for this meetup.

He rubs soft circles on the small of your back and peppers kisses to the crown of your head. "You can talk to me,"

"W-what if they don't li-like me?"

Astarion moves you both to the bed, skirting around the mess you made. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap to look you in the eyes better. "Why wouldn't they love you?" He prompts, not wanting to push you.

"Star, you know why. I'm not Tav," you hiccup, and you're positive the words you're speaking are incoherent. "I have their memories and some of their mannerisms and…and I'm also allergic to bees, but I'm not them. What if they hate me because I'm not Tav."

Astarion pecks your lips to halt your panicked words. He wipes the tears from your damp face. "No, you are not Tav, but they are part of you. They live in your art, laugh, and kind heart."

"But wha-"

"Let me finish, my love," Astarion smiles, brushing some hair behind your ear. "No one expects you to be Tav. We all love them deeply, but Tav's gone." He swallows hard, the words still hard to voice for him.

Astarion kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and continues to pepper kisses over your face, catching stray tears. "They just want to get to know the beautiful artist I fell in love with. Gale's big mouth might have let them know more about our history than I would have liked, but that doesn't change anything."

"And if they don't like the person you fell in love with?" You ask softly.

"Then fuck all of them. I love you, and if they don't love you as well, then they have no place in my life." His eyes pierce deep into yours, and there's no denying the truth of his words. You are overcome with a wave of love for your vampire and kiss him softly once more. "Now come, my love, by the smell, your roast is done."

"Shit!" You jump off his lap and rush out of the room, self-doubt pushed to the side.

*

The roast is fine if slightly burnt on the top. It looked juicy and smelled amazing. The vegetables are mush, but the potatoes are tender and seasoned well. It's not your best meal, but there's nothing you can do to fix it now. You left it on the counter to rest and found Astarion in the living room.

He was rehanging one of your paintings- the one you drew late last year after waking up in a cold sweat. It was a complete picture of the party standing on a dock overlooking the Grey Harbor just as the sun rose above the horizon. Astarion helps you fill in the gaps, telling you that this followed the fall of the Absolute.

"What are you doing?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall. You had hidden away most of your art, too embarrassed by the sheer number of canvases depicting the guest due here any minute.

Astarion finishes hanging the painting above the fireplace and turns to you. "I liked this one and thought I'd put it back."

Before you could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Your stomach instantly dropped, and your heart beat hard in your chest. As if sensing your rising anxiety, Astarion moved to your side, his large palm finding the small of your back.

He swiftly kisses your cheek. "One word and I'll throw them all out."

Astarion leaves you and walks to answer the door. Your palms are sweating, and you rub them down your thighs. You take a few deep breaths and pace the room. Not knowing what else to do, you idly fluff up the decorative pillows of the couch and stall.

"Pull yourself together." You mumbled under your breath. You hear the sounds of multiple footsteps, and you know they're all here.

Why did Astarion request for them to arrive all at once? You're still not sure. But you're suddenly very pissed at him for his decision. Having all of them looking upon you like an art exhibit terrifies you.

"My dear," Astarion pokes his head into the room, a warm smile adorning his sharp features. "Would you like to meet our guest?"

You swallowed hard and nodded. Putting on a brave smile, you rounded the couch and reached for Astarion's hand. Threading his fingers with yours, you curled around his arm like a lifeline.

Moving out into the foyer, you shyly look at the group before you. Gale, given the circumstances of your and Astarion's meeting, you had already met. He had relentlessly bothered Astarion until an introduction was made between you and the wizard. But you've only seen the others in the paintings you've made and the dreams you've seen.

Karlach bounced on her feet, Wyll smiling brightly behind her left shoulder. Haslin stood by the door, a beautifully sculpted wooden bear in his arms. Shadowheart stood beside him, her face passive but relaxed and almost pleased. Lae'zel was the farthest from the group, brooding in the corner, looking at you suspiciously. Still, she even loosened her tense shoulders and stepped forward upon your entry.

"Um, hi." You waved meekly, giving them your name, cringing when your voice cracked.

It's quiet for a moment too long, and you're a step away from fleeing when Karlach skips over to you.

"Can I hug you?!" She almost yells, shaking her fists excitedly.

"Karlach!" Astarion scolds. The Tiefling had, by the looks of it, broken a rule he had set for your comfort.

"Sorry, sorry." Karlach's smile fades, and she moves to retreat. Your heart clenches, and it's like your body moves on instinct. You detach from Astarion before you can think, and then your arms are around her waist. Her scalding heat seeps into your bones and listen to the cranks of her engine.

"Hi Karlach," you whispered into her torso. The wind squeezed from your body, and your feet were off the ground.

"It's nice to finally meet you! The letters fangs write didn't do you justice."

Quickly, the group connects like magnets. Wyll crowds in and hugs you from behind, pressing you closer to Karlach. Gale piles on after, then Halsin. Shadowheart nudges her way between the men and apologizes on behalf of everyone but gives you an equally tight squeeze. The group even wrangles Astarion and Lae'zel into this group hug.

These people are supposed to be strangers, but having them close, seeing this family you've watched through someone else's memories for most of your life right before you. It fills you with familiar warmth and affection and has tears of joy in your eyes. You might not be Tav, not entirely, but you still have a place in this little family.

"Um…excuse me, I can't breathe." You squeak out after a moment of suffocation, and the group is quick to disperse.

Wiping away the lingering dampness from your cheek, you take a moment to compose yourself, clearing your throat with a subtle grace. Your hand instinctively finds its way back, and Astarion swiftly recovers it, his touch reassuring. Soft circles dance on the back of your hand, a silent question lingering in his gaze, seeking affirmation that you're all right. You respond with a nod and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"Ah, well…" you chuckle with a hint of self-awareness. "I have a roast with everyone's names on it. And a blueberry pie; Astarion found a wild patch on one of his hunts."

"Thank the gods, I'm famished," Wyll sighs, his appetite evident as he sniffs the air dreamily. A nudged Karlach sets the communal movement toward the dining room in motion.

Astarion emerges with the wine, gracefully pouring glasses of red for everyone. Gale, the sole visitor to your home beforehand, takes charge of the table settings. With a flick of his fingers and a whispered incantation, plates and silverware align harmoniously. The stage set, the food emerges, and the night takes flight.

It feels like a cinematic scene picking up where it had once paused, a seamless continuation. Laughter weaves through the air, stories unfold, and even the occasional argument dissolves into a chorus of joyous laughter. Though new and fresh, the conversation flows as naturally as breathing. Strangers evolve into friends, and amidst the clinking of glasses, a familial bond begins to sprout. Tav was indeed fortunate to have these beautiful souls around.

As the night bids farewell and everyone departs, you find solace curled up against Astarion. His voice, a gentle undercurrent, softly reads from his newest book, and you gaze up, fixated on the beautiful man before you. A silent expression of gratitude graces your lips, an unspoken acknowledgment directed at Tav. Thanks for giving you a family and the love of your life.

Astarion's fingers scratch your scalp, tenderly coaxing your eyes closed. "What are you thinking about, little love?"

"Just how lucky I am."

"I would argue I'm the lucky one, but I suppose we can share," he smiles; he continues to read to you and massage your scalp until you're puddy against his body, sleep having all but consumed you. The night settles into a tranquil symphony, the warmth of shared love lingering in the serenity.

Okay I know it was a bit cheesy, but I needed so fluffy shit today. Anyway, tell me what you thought I love talking with y'all.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna, marina-and-the-memes

[robinhills]

💫ROBINHILL Smut

kinda scared cause this is only my third time writing smut 😣 I wanna try and make this as in character as I can but it’s gonna probably end up being OOC‼️‼️

also when you think of the hotel suite, my idea for how it would look would kinda be a mix of the penacony hotel rooms and the hotel suite from pretty women.

btw bootyhill can’t reproduce cause cyborg 🦿

꒰ა ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ໒꒱

CW(s): cyborg sex, porn with plot? + aftercare/pillowtalk, established relationship, missionary, soft sex, praise, biting, hair tugging, touched starved Boothill, Makeup sex? pussy eating, crying during sex, boothill has a normal dick because I’m a pussy, cream pie.

synopsis: they're dating, semi makeup sex?🩷

“I’d travel across galaxies of torture and pain if it meant I could hold you”

~

Robin had just finished her concert, and finally got back to the hotel she was staying at, she was exhausted, but remembering the smiles she saw on people’s faces as she sang, always made her feel a bit better about her day, sure her long and excruciating makeup routine, plus the hours of dance practice, the strict diets, the hate mail, the constant business, the occasional stalkers, made it rough, but just knowing that she could have made one persons day better with her music kept her going.

But that doesn’t mean the fatigue wasn’t getting to her, and…aeons, she missed Boothill, last time they seen each other had been almost two months ago, they had gotten into an argument about how she felt like she wasn’t enough for him…and than she suggested he was cheating on her.

when they had first met, he was a “pump and dump” kinda guy, the type of guy who sleeps with a women one time, and never calls again, didn’t date, and sure as hell, didn’t stick to one gal.

of course deep down she knew he had changed, she knew he loved her, but, she was so busy all the time, and exhausted, and they didn’t sleep together as much as most couples did.

did he feel unsatisfied? Unloved? The guilt of arguing with him over something she knew wasn’t true was eating her up, she just wanted to see him again, but even after apologizing, she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to see her.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to her texts with boothill, staring at them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Boothill🦾🤠| 09:34

|sent with voice message| Heya Darling, I know last night we had that argument and I left suddenly, I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you ain’t enough, and I’m gonna try and fix that, promise, 🦾 I’m gonna be gone for a few months on some business and I won’t be able to text much, I love you read✔️

Robin🎶🪽| 09:42

it’s okay, I get it, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I know you aren’t being unfaithful, Boothill, I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, none of this is your fault, I love you. read✔️

Boothill🦾🤠| 09:46

|sent with voice message| it’s fine darling, I get it, I’ll see you as soon as I can, just let me know when ya want to see me and I’ll come running over🦿, see ya, sweet cheeks ❤️ read✔️

Robin🎶🪽| 09:46

Okay, I’ll miss you, cowboy. <3 read✔️

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She sighed, her hand clenching around her phone, seeing that made her feel a bit better, she smiled to herself as she walked down the halls to her hotel room.

she took out her keycard, making sure to check both ways, before quickly opening it and rushing inside, shutting and locking it as quickly as possible, perhaps she was a bit paranoid but better safe than sorry.

Aeons, now she just wanted a nice shower, and sleep, maybe she’d order a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates.

as she walked in, she noticed the hotel suite was faintly lit by candles, she glanced at the bed, rose petals spread across it, she slowly reached in her bag for her pepper spray, aeons, she hoped she didn’t have a crazy fan inside her room.

She peeked around the corner holding her pepper spray tightly, her thumb on the button, ready to spray.

And there he was, sitting in a chair across the room, already starting to get up, only immediately to sit back down, and put his metallic hands up in defeat.

“eh..hey there…darlin?“ he said, with an unsure tone, as he stared at the pepper spray, and chuckled, slowly standing up.

“sheesh, ya still mad about the fight? Is that it?”

Robin stared for a moment, and sighed, slowly putting the pepper spray down, her wings relaxed in relief, and she rushed over into his arms, burying her face in his neck, his arms wrapping around her waist, spinning her around in his arms. “I missed you.” she whispered into his neck, holding onto him tightly as he slowly set her down, back on her feet. “aww, I missed you too, sugar.”

“im sorry.” she said, almost immediately, staring up at him, her lips curved down into a small frown, the wings behind her ears drooping downwards.

he simply smiled, and took off his hat, tossing it. “Angel, it’s fine, really, it’s okay, do I look mad to you? Cause I ain’t mad.” he trailed his robotic fingers along her cheek.

she hesitates, but she eventually lets out a sigh of relief, nodding slowly, leaning her head into his cold, metal hands. “I know you’re not..” there was a moment of silence.

…

he must have noticed she still looked upset, because he scooped her up over his shoulder, and started walking over to the bed and before she got the chance to object, he tossed her down on it, and quickly started to undress himself.

“d-dear?…” she says after a moment, slowly sitting up, watching him, she sighed. “you want to do this now?…”

“do ya not want to?” “no I do..but I’m tired…”

He paused, and sighed, smiling. “than ill do all the work, you just lay back and enjoy it, sugar…is that okay?”

She hesitated for a moment, she didn’t like having him do all the work…it made her feel like she wasn’t pleasing him.

but the way he stares at her, it reassures her, she sighs softly, and nods slowly. “yes.”

he chuckles softly, and slowly leans down, climbing on top of her, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Yes what? Use your words, baby.” she sighed, her cheeks growing hot, she felt that fluttering in her stomach at his words, and she clenched her thighs together, her wings perked up a tad. After a moment, she said in a soft voice, leaning back.

“Yes..I want you to make love to me.” He paused, and giggled, he felt giddy hearing that, and planted a kiss on her lips.

“Than ya hold on, sweet cheeks, we goin all night!”

~

He proceeded to help her get undressed, making sure to be extra gentle with her, the cold steel of his hands caused her to occasionally shiver or tense, he kept checking on her to make sure she was okay. once he got her dress and jewelry off, he slowly removed her bra, planting a kiss on both of her breasts, rubbing her stomach slowly. “Mm..missed my girls…and ya nipples already so perky and hard, just for me.” he chuckled, kissing her right nipple, than her left.

She shivered, and looked down at him, slowly caressing the back of his head with her hand, her fingers curling around his hair, playing with it softly.

“Don’t say stuff like that..it’s embarrassing..” she mumbled with a soft tone, sighing, her cheeks flushed brightly, her lips glossy from the wet kisses he kept giving her.

”but it’s true.” He captured a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her harden nipple, sucking gently.

she let out a small, content sigh, her eyes half lidded, the wings behind her ears fluttered again, she leaned her head back into the pillow, she smiled slightly for a moment, he always found a way to make her smile.

he slowly started moving down her body, trailing kisses down her stomach, and stopping right above her pubic area. “is this okay, baby?” Robin nodded slowly, and grabbed a pillow to hold onto, pressing it against her chest, burying her mouth in it, and mumbled into it.

“Yes. Go ahead, love.” her wings fluttered again, and she squirmed her hips around a bit.

Boothill slowly sat up, taking off her underwear slowly, he glanced at it, and chuckled as he noticed her slick. “sheesh, sugar, ya already that wet?” he paused for a moment, staring at her flustered face, and he said slowly, in a softer, more serious tone.

“Atta Girl, Lift those pretty legs up for me.” She felt those butterflies in her stomach again, but it felt hotter, she felt a throbbing on her clit, and glanced down, noticing Boothill’s erect thick cock, and how swollen and red the tip looked, thank aeons he kept his dick, her wings fluttered again, she was practically salivating. she obeyed, lifting her legs up slowly, exposing herself to him. he groaned softly, and rubbed his jaw for a moment, staring down at her pussy, his dick twitched slightly, and he sighed, almost analyzing her for a moment, his metallic fingers reached over, and he flicked her swollen bud softly, eliciting a small moan from her throat, she bucked her hips up slightly. “Boothill, please…I need you..” she cooed, squirming her hips around in a circular motion, causing him to chuckle again.

“Gosh darn, darlin…you sure are a needy lil’ thing, ain’t cha?” he sighed, and lifted her legs over his cold, metal shoulders.

“Soon…lemme prepare you first, sweet cheeks.” He leaned his hands under her, groping and kneading her rear softly, lifting her up by her butt just slightly, before leaning down, and planting a few kisses on her inner thighs, he glanced at her, before taking a small and soft nibble at her inner thigh, sucking the skin softly. she gasped, before a whimper left her lips, she stared down at him, wiggling her hips again, desperately, she hadn’t been intimate with him in so long, she didn’t realize how starved she was for him since she was always distracted with work.

“Dear…please hurry up..”

he sucked her thigh for a second more, before stopping, leaving a small red mark on her inner thigh, he sighed, and looked at her. “Relax…we don’t gotta rush everything, we have all night…” he caressed her ass slowly, and planted a loving kiss right above her clit, making her shiver.

“Move that damn pillow too, I wanna hear ya” he leaned a hand up, and snatched the pillow away, she whined.

“I need something to hold onto..”

“Squeeze the sheets, pull my damn hair, I don’t care, but don’t try and hide from me.” He quickly latched his lips onto her clit, and sucked.

she moaned softly, and bucked her hips up slightly, her nails digging into sheets, his tongue swirled around her nub, his cold, metallic hands squeezing her ass, caressing her softly.

he slowly moved his lips away from her clit, only to start lapping at her entrance, sucking and probing her pussy with his tongue, devouring her like she was his last meal on earth. he made sure to be careful not to scrape his teeth against her pussy, he kept giving loving rubs with his thumb onto her hip bone, occasionally glancing up at her, his cock pressing into the mattress, the rose petals on the bed were getting mushed up slightly by Robins squeezing and tugging of the sheets. He started flicking his tongue at her clit, switching between slow and fast every few seconds, her moans and whines filled the room, her wings got droopy from the overwhelming pleasure, and her halo tilted slightly as her head kept moving around, she moved her hands slowly to his head, tugging his long white and black hair gently as she felt that familiar, hot, tightening coil in her stomach.

“B-Boothill…’m gonna cum-“ Robin moaned softly, her body tensing up, he started giving long licks, before lapping at her clit rapidly, after a few moments, he mumbled against her pussy. “cum for me, baby, it’s okay, let go.” she than came undone on his tongue, closing her eyes as her wings fluttered slightly, her thighs clenching around his head, tugging at his hair as her orgasm washed over her, moaning out his name softly.

he kept pleasuring her through her orgasm, and once she finally relaxed, he gave a soft kiss to her pussy, and leaned up.

“glory, darlin…look how soaked you are for me!” he smiled with pride, licking his lips, he slowly climbed over her, his cock pressing against her stomach, he leaned down and wrapped a arm behind her head, the other holding Robin’s hip, caressing her softly.

“Tell me when you’re ready for me darlin.” He kissed her forehead, and brushed a couple strands of her pale blue hair out of her face, his eyes half lidded.

~

After a five minutes of letting her relax, she gently pokes his cheek and snuggles closer to him, spreading her legs slightly.

“I’m ready, love.” she cooed softly against his ear, wrapping her arms around his neck.

he stared down at her and slowly moved up, propping himself up by his elbows, he stared down at her body for a moment, and smiled, kissing her forehead. “hold on, angel..” he slowly positioned his cock head at her entrance, and pushed in slightly, inch by inch, she whimpered as she was stretched by his cock, a drop of sweat dripping down her neck.

he leaned down and licked her neck softly, and started nibbling her neck, as he pushed himself in, groaning, she squirmed a bit, her breathing growing heavier, once his cock reached deep inside her love canal, she whimpers, and tenses up, her pussy squeezing around his cock tightly. he moans into her neck, and mumbled gently. “baby..you okay?…you tightened up..ya tense?” He kisses her neck and leans up, staring down at her, he moves a hand to her face, and rubs her cheek, kissing her lips.

once he pulls away, she shakes her head, and motions for him to start moving. “D-Dear…’m okay…move..please…” he sighs, and slowly grabs her arms, pushing them down, and interlocking their hands, he couldn’t feel her skin with his hands, he couldn’t feel her warmth, but he still wanted to comfort her, to make her feel safe.

he loves her so much, he really does, he can’t imagine being with any other women.

thrust

he only wants her.

thrust

he only needs her.

thrust

he only loves her.

He groans, moaning her name softly. “f-fudge!- aeons…Robin, yer doing so good..oh..yeah, babydoll..” his thrusts are at the perfect pace, the perfect angle, hitting right against her sweet spot, making her squirm and moan, her back arching off the bed, their soft moans filling the room, her eyes watered. ”B-Boothill…I…I love you so much!” she cooed, he filled her up so well, she squirmed her hips, his cock ramming into her, picking up the speed, he groaned into her ear repeatedly, grabbing her hips as he pounded into her passionately, occasionally slowing his hips down only to speed up once again, making her moans roll off her tongue slowly, soft coos leaving her throat.

“Mm..I love you too Robin…love ya so much, darlin..”

He glanced at the wings behind her ears, and suddenly leaned his hands over, grabbing both of them on either side, using them as handles as he thrusted inside her.

A loud moan left her lips, tears of pleasure spilling out, drooling slightly, her hips bucking upwards again.

he rolled his hips up in a way that hit her cervix, making her throw her head back.

his thumb caressed her wings slowly as he tugged them as gently as he could while he thrusted into her. She cried, and he almost slowed down. “baby? You okay? You need me to stop?-“

She quickly shook her head, and whined, her body twitching slightly, legs shaking, yet she wanted him to keep going, he sighed softly, and kissed her forehead, letting go of her wings as he wrapped his arms around her, and continued his thrusts, speeding up again quickly.

They both felt their orgasms building up rather quickly, and he groaned into her hair, he could go all night, but he could see she was pretty damn exhausted. “let go, Robin, just relax, I’ll take care of everything, just let go..cmon baby, you’re so close, you can do it, baby girl.” he moaned into her ear, thrusting faster and faster, and she whined, hugging him tightly, and her pussy tightened and squeezed around his cock, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt her orgasm rising to the very top.

he moaned against her cheek, and slammed his lips against hers, kissing her passionately as they came together, his cum filling her up as her orgasm washed over her intensely, her body twitching, he kept thrusting his cum into her, and slowed down after a few moments, fucking her through her orgasm as he moved his head up, staring down at her, with a satisfied smiled, caressing her back. “there ya go, sweetheart…ya feel good?..” he kissed her sweaty forehead, as her shaken breaths slowed down, and her twitching came to a stop, her body relaxed into the bed, going limp as her wings drooped downwards slightly, after a few moments, she whispered in a soft voice.

“mhm…” she paused, and stared at him with her big teal-emerald eyes, and smiled at him. “I love you.” he chuckled softly, and tilted his head. “I love ya too, Robin.”

~

after their intense lovemaking session, he decided to let her rest for the rest of the night, after all, he had all tomorrow to make love to her.

“How was it, sweet cheeks?” He murmured to her. she curled up in his arms, snuggling closer, his robotic fingers combed through her hair repeatedly. “perfect, as always.” she leaned a hand up, and started braiding some strands of his hair, smiling slightly at him.

“Heh, as always, huh? Guess you’re a pretty lucky gal.” he kissed her forehead again, rubbing her lower back with her cold, metallic fingers, it was hot outside anyways, his cool touch felt nice. “And you’re a pretty lucky man, right?” “luckiest in the world.” She giggled softly, and continued to make small braids in his hair. after some comfortable silence, he continued. “whatcha wanna do tomorrow? Shall I take my lady shopping? You wanna go see a movie?” she paused, and kissed his cheek.

“let’s stay in the hotel all day, laze around…I need some downtime” her words made him grin, and he shook his head, and brushed the wings behind her ears with his robotic fingers. “Yes ma’am.” he eyed her up and down for a moment. “Do I get to pleasure ya all day?” “of course.” she cooed, as he started massaging her thighs, and sighed, he slowly leaned down and buried his face in her breasts, closing his eyes. “mm…you a real beauty…ya know that darlin?” she sighs and kisses the top of his head, caressing the back of his head gently as she held him close. “I know, you and half the galaxy tell me everyday.” She pauses. “I like hearing it more from you though.” he chuckles, and kisses her collarbone. “I know you do, sugar..”

they lay in silence, her hands slowly caressing his head as his robotic arms squeeze around her waist and thighs, occasionally planting a kiss on her collarbone or neck.

after a few minutes, Robin yawns, and curls up closer to him, as he pulls the blankets over their shoulders.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

Fin

꒰ა ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ໒꒱

OMFG. FOUR WEEKS. FOUR WEEKS OF PROCRASTINATION, REWRITING, AND BRAINSTORMING, it’s finally done! HORRAY! 😍

I got a tad lazy near the end but I put sooo much effort and work into this, and I really hope it came out good,

I love robinhill so much and I feel like there isn’t enough content of them at all! So I hope this gets popular enough just to get robinhill more noticed, because I really love this stupid silly ship 🩷

I hope it was an enjoyable experience for anyone who was reading, good morning, good afternoon, and goodnight! - Songbird

[brucewaynehater101]

I think that prior to Tim being found out as a spider demon, only Cass had good thoughts about Spiders. And maybe Damian but in more of a "don't kill it, you put it in a cup and move it to the garden" kind of way. Dick *hates* them and Jason had a bad experience with Beast Boy using the form of a spider the size of a dinner plate to jump scare him when he was still Robin.

As for how he makes his silk, i once saw a design of a spider demon that had two black dots at the corners of its mouth and when it pressed a finger to the dots and pulled them away, a line of string was hanging between their finger and the dot. I think his thread looks like normal spider thread (including the size) but is durable enough that only a few strands can stop a charging Bane. It's possible for him to take the silk he produces and turn it into thread and from thread into fabric. The fabric moves and feels like high quality silk but is about twice as durable as Kevlar due to how strong his threads are.

The only reason all of the Bats aren't already decked out in full Tim Silk Gear is because of the sheer amount of time and energy it takes to make that much thread. If he uses all of his spare time to make thread and turn it into fabric as quickly as he can, he would only make 2 or 3 fabric napkins in a month. If he was only eating, sleeping, and making silk he could produce a single sheet about the size of a picnic blanket in the same amount of time. Not exactly a lot of fabric to work with. Plus there's the fact that his thread is very weak by the standards of his species due to a mixture of malnutrition, constant exhaustion, and frequent injuries.

However, most of his family does have at least one thing that he made with his thread for them. They have no idea what kind of fabric it is that Tim brings them things made of and when asked if he can get more, he simply shakes his head and says, "I wish I could, but farming to much of the material needed to make this stuff can seriously harm the type of creature that creates it. I'm keeping it vague so that you guys don't try to buy it yourselves. The person I get this from have been very, *very* heavily researched to make sure that it's done in a humane way. Basically anywhere else you find this stuff is almost garenteed to be horribly mistreating the creatures to force them to produce as much as physically possible. And I got my guys entire stock just to make this for you." This throughly covers his tracks and makes it so that the Bats won't consider trying to buy more silk from other sources. Most of the things he makes for them are small, like gloves or Domino Masks or at most an under shirt to give them an extra layer or protection. Cass's whole cowl is made of Tim's Silk.

As for what kind of malnutrition Tim has, the Bats already knew about that, sort of. John saw Bruce's new gloves and after feeling them asked where the fuck he got that much Jorogomo Silk and why it's such Shit Quality. When Bruce asked for him to elaborate, Constantine ran his hands over the gloves a few times while muttering to himself before sighing, "Malnutrition. Their silk is a direct reflection of their health. Whoever made this, they have *not* been eating well. Probably only just enough to survive and with no... well, you'd probably be glad to hear that the one who made your gloves hasn't been chowing down on an human flesh. But it's an important part of their diet. Yeah, this one seems to have been trying to use supplements for the shit it needs, but that'll never truly work. Like you can take all the vitamins tablets ya want, but unless you go out and soak in some sunshine every now and then you'll always be deficient in Vitamin D cause your body just won't process it. If I were you, I would get in contact with your seller and get them a deal with the local mourge. After all, you're from Gothem. I'm sure no one would notice if a few of the already dead disappeared."

That night Bruce had an uncomfortable conversation with Tim about how his seller might not be as good as he thought and what Mourges tended to "loose" bodies most often. Tim did start eating some from the already dead but he hates it. Not because hes eating people but because they've been dead for a while and only fresh bodies taste good.

As for Jack, he goes into a coma until Tim gets there and he uses some of his threads to make Jack his puppet. However, Tim doesn't have any practice with preserving the bodies of his puppets yet so after about a month, Jack is starting to fall apart a little so Tim sets up for him to be part of a car crash and makes a new puppet to be Uncle Eddie. The second puppet does last longer, but only about 2 and a half months and then Tim eats what's left of Uncle Eddie. Maybe one day he'll be able to make puppets that last for years like his mom did, but not just yet.

Also she isn't dead and does stay in contact. She just got bored of her life as Janet Drake and ditched her puppet, telling Tim "here's my new number and new name and the puppet of your father. Good luck kiddo." And Tim was like "YOURE THE BEST MOM" because really, by their standards she is. Most of his species are completely abandoned once they can walk, hide themselves, and produce silk. Most don't have any idea who their parent or parents are at all.

Ooh! The way you made his silk OP but then put in a very realistic limitation was cool as hell.

I'm also curious how the Bats would feel about Tim needing to consume human flesh. If Red Hood is still killing, it would he super cool of him to offer up some of the people he murders. Hopefully that will be a bit fresher and better tasting for Tim.

Also, would Alfred try to cook food for Tim's diet? Or would that be too much for Alfred to handle so he refuses to cook human flesh?

If Tim or someone else cooked that food (post-reveal), they probably would have to build an entire kitchen just for him. They wouldn't want to cross contaminate that since it could make the humans really really sick.

You mentioned that Tim doesn't hate consuming flesh. Does he have any reservations about it? Are there parts of his being that he hates for not being human enough?

At least Bruce doesn't seem to mind a creature consuming already dead people. Though, maybe Tim (pre-reveal) worries Bruce would mind if it was someone he knew.

I'm also hella curious where puppet Uncle Eddie comes from. Dead body? Bad guy Tim doesn't mind turning into a puppet?

Love Janet Drake. Maybe Tim could go visit her every once in a blue moon. If not, at least both of them seem happy and content with their relationship

[eggyrocks]

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter six -> a promise

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 2.7k

now playing: my hot piss by die spitz

Autumn cools everything down. The feverish sort of pain that made her almost delirious has chilled into a dull, steady ache. Kiyoko rests her head on her shoulder. They sit on the couch together, under a shared blanket, and watch old, cheesy horror movies. Every on-screen death makes Kiyoko flinch and hide her face under the blanket.

It’s odd, to be in her apartment, to have it be her own as well. Where the fridge is free of remnants of rotten food and is properly stocked with essentials. Where the furniture matches and there’s no stuffing spilling out of the cushioning. It’s small, and sometimes she has to fiddle with the pipes under the sink to avoid calling a plumber, but it’s nice. It’s well-kept and Kiyoko always has some kind of candle lit. The walls are white, just white, not stained yellow from years of cigarette smoking. The locks don’t look like they’re about to fall off the door. There’s no mold in the bathroom. No pest infestations. No decay in the hardwood floor.

It makes her feel so out of place.

“My parents helped with the deposit,” Kiyoko had explained to her, almost sheepishly, like this was something she should be ashamed of. “And with the first few months of rent while I built up some savings. It’s how I was able to get it.”

Her brother would’ve liked Kiyoko, she thinks. He would’ve liked her quiet demeanor, and the deliberate sort of way she carries herself. He would’ve liked how spending time with her is never overwhelming. He would’ve liked how her voice is like a small stream that runs down the street after a rainstorm.

They would’ve gotten along.

She has the thought that he would’ve hated Iwaizumi, and then tries to pretend that she didn’t.

Onscreen, a head is removed from a set of shoulders. She tries not to think of Iwaizumi. It makes her sick, even his name. Never once has she felt like she did the right thing. Kiyoko keeps telling her that sometimes, the right things hurt the most. But that doesn’t help. It doesn’t quell the nausea she feels at his memory. It doesn’t fade that dull, aching loneliness. It doesn’t make her feel better about leaving him.

Objectively, her life as improved post-Iwaizumi. She’s held onto the same job for several months in a row without incident (no spitting, cursing, or fighting-though that’s mostly due to Kiyoko). She actually has money in her bank account now, ¥50,901.96, after rent (which, isn’t a lot by any metric, but it’s definitely more than nothing). Her father stopped calling. Her diet is much more balanced. The cable’s better. She doesn’t really get mad anymore.

It's an improvement. A drastic one. Something she probably wouldn’t have been able to achieve on her own.

But it’s worse. It just feels worse.

Blood spews from a headless body, cartoonishly fake. Kiyoko squirms, and she doesn’t flinch.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

The bell on the door to the sports shop dings as the it closes, and a customer leaves with fresh tennis balls. She rests her cheek on the palm of her hand as she leans up against the counter. She’s drawing the earth as it explodes from the inside, splitting into dozens of chunks of land and ocean. “Who the fuck buys tennis balls in November?”

Kiyoko slides behind the counter to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder to watch her draw. “I dunno. Maybe he’s going somewhere warm,” she offers as a solution.

Kiyoko doesn’t hate people the way she does. She can’t ever hate someone just because she wants to; Kiyoko doesn’t ever want to. It makes her feel mean, since the feeling of hatred comes to her so naturally. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Noya thinks you’re cute,” Kiyoko says, suddenly stiffer when she talks. “He asked if you were going to go out with us tomorrow night.”

She doesn’t know who Noya is. She probably should. He’s probably someone that she’s met more than once. But she can’t conjure up the face that’s supposed to go with the name. “Which one’s he?” she asks, well past the point of caring if she seems rude to Kiyoko.

Kiyoko knows she’s rude, at this point.

“The short one,” she answers. “The one with the blond in his hair.”

Her pen digs into the notebook paper, adding shading around a blown-up chunk of earth. “Yeah, he’s cute, I guess.”

Kiyoko makes a noise of acknowledgement. “But you’re not into him.”

It’s not a question, so she doesn’t answer it. Kiyoko sighs, and rocks on her heel. “That’s fair. As long as it’s because you’re actually not into him, and not because you’re not over Iwaizumi.”

Hearing his name spoken so casually makes her flinch. Kiyoko notices and leans her head down on her shoulder. “Well, we’ll get there.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

At her lowest point, she calls her father.

She dials his number so many times she loses track of it. She stares at the numbers for so long they start to lose meaning. When she closes her eyes, she sees them burned into the inside of her eyelids. She hits ‘call,’ and then hangs up, only to dial him right back up again.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, and definitely not why. She just sort of acts, moved by impulse and a craving for something unknown.

It rings. It rings three times before he answers. His phone is gruff and worn on the other line. “Hello?”

Her hand slaps over her mouth, and she tries to quiet her breathing, like she’s hiding from him. Her eyes prick and burn. “Hello?” he repeats on the other end, more impatient this time. Her heart pounds like he’s just on the other side of the door. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

“Fucking hell,” is the last thing she hears before the line goes dead. The phone clatters to the floor of her bedroom, and she cries. The first time she’s cried like this in months.

She really doesn’t know what she’s doing.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Most of her time is spent lying in her bed, doing nothing, thinking about everything. Sometimes she goes along with Kiyoko when she goes out with her friends, and she sits in the corner and tries not to draw too much attention to herself. She hates that. Sometimes she tries to pick up extra shifts at work just to pass the time. She hates that too. Sometimes she goes to this cheap dive bar just two blocks away from her new apartment, just to have a drink or two in a place that’s not her bedroom.

She orders a second drink. It’s bone-chilling cold outside, and the alcohol makes her feel warmer. Just a bit. She thinks it’s sad that this is the most exciting part of her week.

At least the festering rot that tore her up from the inside was interesting. Now her life is boring and depressing.

The call of her name is sudden and jarring. She spins around in the barstool with an elevated heartrate and her fingers reaching for her keys. She doesn’t recognize him, at first. When her eyes first land on him, she continues looking for a second, before it catches up to her. Her heart leaps up to her throat. “Matsukawa?”

Matsukawa chugs, his head tilted back and his Adam’s apple bobbing, downing the pint until there’s nothing left but traces of white foam. Her fingers tap against her own glass, looking at the condensation that leaves a ring around the wooden bar. It reminds her of the plastic cups of coffee Iwa brought her daily. She didn’t drink coffee before that. Now every morning she finds herself crawling out of bed at eight in the goddamn morning, throwing on whatever clothes are on her floor so she can get to the closest coffee shop before it gets too busy.

“Is he over me yet?” she asks, tips of her fingers collecting droplets of condensation.

Matsukawa slams his glass down on the bar. “Nah.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Not even a little. Iwa’ll never get over you.”

Her eyes roll. Matsukawa sees this and narrows his own. “Don’t think I don’t mean it.”

There’s an awkwardness that hangs between them. She takes a sip of her own drink and swishes it over her tongue, trying to distract from it. “He’s got a long time to.”

“Doesn’t matter. I know him. You were it.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left me.”

She says this, she realizes, with familiarity, the kind that no longer exists between her and Matsukawa. She hasn’t seen him since her father’s blood was on her hands. Any closes between them granted by the lifesaving has since evaporated, and now, they’re as good as strangers. At least to her.

Still, Matsukawa leans back in the bar stool. “Yeah, he probably shouldn’t have.”

She shifts in her seat uncomfortably. It would’ve been better if he argued. “Yeah,” is all she can manage, her fire dulled.

“You don’t look like you’re doing that much better than he is,” Matsukawa remarks, and she offers no reaction. It’s not like he’s wrong. “You two are both idiots. You’re perfect for each other.”

Her lip furls up. “You got a lot of fucking opinions on this.”

“Hard not to. Iwa’s heartbreak is everyone’s problem.”

Iwa’s heartbreak. She doesn’t like the implication of it. Like it’s just his. Like it’s nothing something he caused for her. Like it’s not something they share.

“C’mon,” Matsukawa says, hand clapping on her back, like he can see the thoughts brewing in her head, and he wants to cut her off before they can work their way over to him, “let me walk you home.”

He does. He walks her home and he talks about his recovery post-stabbing and he rants about Oikawa and he talks about this girl he’s been talking to that he’s not really that into and he talks about how good Makki’s been looking lately but he doesn’t ask about her and he doesn’t bring up Iwaizumi again.

At least that she’s grateful for.

And when he deposits her at her front door, he grins, and tells her that he’ll see her later.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s snowing. She stands outside of his apartment, box in her hands and something caught in her throat. It’s been a few weeks since she’s seen Matsukawa, and she’s done little but think about him and what he said and fixate on it and let it gnaw away at her.

So she’s outside Iwaizumi’s apartment, snow getting stuck in her hair and fingers going numb.

Her list of problems doesn’t really exist anymore. They’re not as material, harder to pin down. Her anger issues have simmered down into this lethargic mood that has much less daily wear and tear. The split rent and the consistent income have dissipated the money problems. She doesn’t worry about things the way she used to. Things don’t really plague her the way they used to.

It’s really just him. It’s really just Iwaizumi.

She sighs. It was easier in her head. Everything’s always easier in her head.

Now that she’s here, all she can think about is everything that can go wrong. Matsukawa being wrong, and Iwaizumi being over her, so much so that he’s not even moved at the sight of her and there’s already someone else in there warming up her side of the bed. He could be working. He could hate her. It could go as badly as it did last time.

Kiyoko disapproved of the plan. Kiyoko wanted her to move on. She wanted her to find a life outside of Iwaizumi, purpose outside of him, drive outside of him.

But people like Kiyoko don’t get it. People like Kiyoko don’t know what it’s like to be infected with something so consuming and persistent and chronic. Kiyoko doesn’t get it. Iwaizumi gets it.

He gets it.

She inhales slowly, and forces herself to move forward.

Breaking into the front door of her old apartment building is something she’s done more times than she’s proud of. It’s oddly nostalgic to pop that old lock open, and it feels the same as she creeps up the stairs. It was like this when she first moved in. Bitter, winter air floating up the stairs like all the windows were left open. She remembers shaking as she hauled up trash bags of her belongings, and taking breaks to wrap herself up in the first blanket she could unpack.

She feels that way now as she stomps up the stairs, the bottom of her boots heavy against the wood. She wonders if he can hear her coming.

By the time she reaches the top of the stairs, her hands are trembling, and she’s slightly out of breath. She takes a moment to catch it before she’s shifting the box to hold in one hand, and she knocks. She does it before she has the chance to talk herself out of it.

The door swings open sooner than she thought it would, like Iwaizumi was just standing there on the other side, waiting for her. Waiting for her this whole time.

When she sees him, she holds her breath. She holds her breath as she counts the one, two three, four bruises and the one, two, three cuts that decorate his features. He’s paler than he was before. The bags under his eyes are darker.

Still, he looks pretty. She always thinks he looks pretty.

His reaction to her, standing at his doorstep after six months, is the same as his reaction to everything else. His brow slightly furrowed, mouth curled up in something that looks like annoyance. She’s not surprised when he doesn’t say anything.

“Um, hey,” is how she starts out. It makes her flinch. “I’m sorry to just like, pop up out of nowhere but, I just kinda wanted to see you. I, erm, I missed you. A lot.”

Iwaizumi says nothing to this either. She feels oddly like she is shooting herself in the foot, and she loses the ability to look him in the eye.

“I feel really bad about how everything went down,” she confesses, now staring at her shoes. He’s still looking at her, she can feel it. “I’ m not proud of the things I said or how I acted. I don’t-I don’t hate you, not at all.”

She thinks she can see his chest rise and fall with heavy, deliberate breaths. But she’s not sure. Could be imagining it. The corners of her vision are starting to blur. She holds the box up to him.

A CD player. Brand new. The same one he got her.

“I got you this. As a sorry. I felt like shit for breaking the one you got me. I feel like shit for a lot of it, but that gift meant a lot to me. Just like you do. And I break things a lot and I have a lot of issues and I don’t think you-“

She does not get to finish her sentence. Iwaizumi grabs her by the arm and pulls her into her chest. The force knocks the box out of her hands, and CD player slams to the ground between them. Before she can realize what’s happened, her feet are hovering above the floor, and Iwaizumi’s arms are tight around her.

It’s automatic, the way she returns the embrace. Her arms snake around his middle, and she leans her head against his chest. She started crying at one point, without realizing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Iwaizumi says, pressing his face into the top of her head, lips kissing her hair between words. “You have no fucking idea how sorry I am.”

She does, because she feels it. It gnaws away at her chest the same way it does to his. She shakes her head. “I get it,” she tells him. “I know it.”

“Please say,” Iwaizumi pleads. “Please. I would do anything for you to stay.”

If she were someone like Kiyoko, she would say no. She would leave. She wouldn’t have ever come back. Because she knows, she knows that Iwaizumi is not going to change. He’s not going to become someone different overnight, or over six months, or a year or a dozen. Iwaizumi is always going to be who he was the day that she met him.

People like your father only care about one thing. And it’s not you, and it’s not me.

She holds onto him tighter, and thinks that that’s okay. She is too. “I’ll stay,” she promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”

an: ok let’s try this again

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[dope-trope-105]

Enamoured by Strawberries

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The reader is Daeron's best friend, temporarily living at the Targaryen Manor. She's a frustrated little birdie and our Aegon has the perfect solution for her. But maybe, just maybe, I could make a second part with more than just smut.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

It had been a few months since you’d shifted to the Targaryen Manor. When Daeron told his mother that his best friend was about to go broke and end up homeless, Auntie Ali, as you liked to call her, almost forced you into her house. Since then, this place has been your home. 

One night, most of the Targaryen’s had gone for a court meeting about something they didn't disclose. You knew all the kids were asleep. Not being able to sleep till three am, you snuck into the kitchen, only wearing a tee, not bothering to put on clothes because who was gonna be out. So you tiptoed on the cold stone floors through the castle in your baby pink lace thong and Iron man sweatshirt. It was so loose and worn at the neck it hung off your shoulders, but you refused to get rid of it. You shivered in the castle's chill air. Lightly humming to Travis playing on your AirPods, you reached the kitchen. You found yourself snacking on the strawberries while leaning on the counter, slightly moving your hips to the song. Having had quite a few of them as you scrolled through some pictures of hot guys your girlfriends and you had sent on the group, sending voice notes ever so often on what was hot and what was not, you turned around to keep the box back, almost dropping all things in your hand as your eyes widened, mouth hanging open as you took in Aegon's smirking face, who stood on the opposite wall, leaning on a pillar with a beer bottle in his hands, wearing a tight white top and grey sweats. You ripped out the AirPods from your ears.

"Welcome back to the world of the hearing-abled," he said.

"How long have you been standing here?" you questioned, clearly panicked.

"It's the hands. If he didn't have veiny hands, I'd never give him a second look. But because he has veiny hands, I'm cumming just by looking at him," he imitated the first sentence you had spoken on your phone since coming here. Blood went straight to your face.

"That's so fucking creepy, Aegon," you said, voice low as you could hear the blood rush in your ears.

"You're one naughty girl, aren't you," he said, kicking off the wall as he walked closer to you. "Talking about guys almost like they're sex dolls," he said, shaking his head as he came much closer, you instinctively moving back as the exposed skin of your back hit the high marble countertop. "All about making you cum," he finished, hands leaning on both sides of you as he brought his face down to meet yours.

"Wha-what d-do you-," you couldn't even finish your sentence as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

"What, can't you talk now? You had so much to say before," he said. "You know I'm not oblivious to your attention-seeking," he said.

You knew what he was talking about. You might have gone absolutely madly sexually repressed since you came here. You were eighteen for fuck's sake, had terrible sex, and only once, and read smut twenty-four/seven. Plus you were generally more horny, probably something to do with your diet. And you had taken to Aegon to relieve you, well not with his knowledge. He was on your mind as you worked your vibrator onto you, imagining him doing the vile things to you that you read. You'd get extra feminine near him, almost always being just slightly more touchy with him than others. You knew nobody noticed. But you were too enamoured fantasising by what he could do to notice what he could observe.

His finger slowly running up your thigh drove you back to him. You were sure you had the deer-in-the-headlights gaze at the direct confrontation and contact.

"You know your room is right next to mine? Imagine my surprise when I hear you at night, not laughing with Baela, not talking, but I hear my own name?" he said, finger hooked onto the waistband of your underwear.

"I-I d-don't know wha-what you're talking about," you said, mind going into overdrive at the lightest of contact. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face.

"It's some filthy shit you read, you know?" he said, smirk growing.

"You went through my laptop?" you asked, panicked.

"You shouldn't leave things like that open on your phone for anyone to pick up," he said, reminding you of the one time at dinner.

You were sitting next to Aegon, snug as a bug in the comfortable sofa-chair on the dining table, waiting for your food to come. You had been rudely interrupted whilst reading one of your favourite smuts, which was basically porn, to be called for dinner. You went, but took the smut with you on your phone, refusing to stop halfway. The food hadn't arrived, and you felt the urge to pee. You left your phone on the sofa that day, your breathing had obviously gotten slightly heavy, and unbeknownst to you, Aegon noticed.

"You look so pretty while sleeping, you know? Hair stuck to your face with sweat all over your body, wearing nothing but underwear," he said again. You only slept like that if you used your vibrator.

"I can do all that, you know?" he finally said, hand now gripping your hip.

"I can make you feel so good," he said, head dipping as he placed a small kiss on your neck, followed by another, then another, until he found himself not giving your skin a break from his mouth. He noticed how you reacted to him, littlest of touches on any part of your exposed skin had you twitching. He hadn't heard you in about a week, and you had been acting like a brat to everyone. He understood your pent up frustration, or more like deduced it. He didn't have to touch you to know you were dripping. Your eyes closed as you were breathing at a mile a minute. Not a sound had come out of you. Aegon knew you needed time to get comfortable.

"Come on," he finally said, grabbing your hand as he walked to his room. Three minutes of complete silence between you guys as you finally took in every word he said. He opened his door, standing to the side as he let you in first. You walked in, seeing his room for the first time. It was dark, green walls, ebony furniture, gaming setup, creamy white sheets, slightly messy, and it smelled overwhelmingly like him. It was intoxicating. "Like what you see?" he said, and you looked back at him, having completely forgotten what you were wearing, or rather, what you weren't.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, walking closer to you. You nodded.

"You've been very bratty this week. You're pretty much a brat all the time, but this last week, You've managed to snap at everyone. I think I know why," he said, hands wrapping loosely on your waist as he looked into your eyes.

"Vibrator just not doing it anymore, is it?" he asked, a mock look of pity in his own eyes,

"You want to be touched now," one of his hands making smooth circles on your side, "You want to feel someone, hear someone speak to you as he fucks you stupid," he finished. "Just say the word," he said. "What do you want baby, I'll do it," he said, cooing. "You want me to kiss you?" he asked, head coming very close to you. Your breath mixed with his, your noses touched as your eyes closed breathing in his scent. "I'll do whatever you want tonight," he said.

And you couldn't wait anymore, pulling his neck to yours as you attached your lips to his. It was a smooth kiss, his lips soft, his breath cold. He tasted like beer. He pulled you abnormally close to him, one arm holding you to his own body as the other went to your ass. He gripped it hard, and softly kneaded it as you sighed in satisfaction.

You were already losing it. His thumb caressed your skin, but his hold was harsh. His lips were soft, but his tongue was rough. It almost made you think he wanted you. His tongue dragged across your lower lip and you opened your mouth to him, letting him know you weren't going to offer any sort of resistance whatsoever. Even if for one night, you were all his, he could do whatever he wanted. Your head was a mess, wondering if you wanted him only sexually or whether you actually wanted him. For the longest time, he kept kissing you, not doing anything else. It made you needy but it also made you happy, that he wasn't willing to jump straight to the deed, get himself off and be done with it. Guys like that were terrible, you were speaking from experience.

But enough was enough, you wanted more. He wasn't wrong, you hadn't had the pleasure of being alone for long enough, uni was exhausting and you were just done with self-satisfaction, it always ended in anger with you. But finally, to your complete glee, he dragged his hands away from your waist, down to your sides as he held onto the back of your thighs. You understood, jumping as he rested your legs onto his hips, and he walked back to his love seat, a large bubbly cream chair, which was more like a single bed. He didn't detach your lips from him even once as he sat, until his back leaned against the chair and he finally pulled back. His eyes were dark, his gaze almost hazy, like he was drunk but you knew he wasn't, his actions were too sharp for it.

His hands then moved to your ass, slowly moving you on top of his hard-on as he watched you. The contact sent a bolt of electricity through your body, a soft moan escaping your lips. As he moved you, your mind directly went to how he manhandled you, moving you without any effort, and it only made you hornier. "Aegon I-" he didn't let you finish kissing your neck, but this time you weren't silent. Moans escaped your mouth like never before, like they were falling off your tongue. You had barely grinded on him but it was better than any vibrator session of yours. "Aegon please," you said. He knew exactly what you wanted. His hands left your hips, but that didn't stop you from moving at the rhythm he set. His fingers brushed your waistband, one pulling at it slightly, but he was going so slow. Did he want a puddle on his pants? "What do you want, baby?" he asked, the words going straight to your core. "Just touch me," you sighed, the movement not nearly enough to satiate your ever growing desires. He tapped your thigh, "get on my bed," he said.

Unwillingly, you got off him and sat on his bed, moments later he was on top of you, crawling almost like a predator. And he kissed your shoulder, slowly moving down your chest as far as the neckline would let him. You groaned in frustration. "Someone's impatient," he chuckled, tugging at your top. "You're killing me," you said, the whine evident in your voice, you'd cry if he waited any longer. "Alright, princess," he said, hands taking off your panties in one sweep, the cool air hitting you. He went back down until his head rested between your legs which he split away with his hands, eyes gleaming as he looked at you. He looked up at you, looking like he was salivating. "Is this what you want?" he asked. You nodded almost feverishly, face red with embarrassment. "She's dripping for me, is she not," he asked, kissing the inside of your thighs as he inched closer and closer. The frustration making your eyes cloud with tears. "Aegon please stop teasing me," you said. "So damn demanding, I guess I should've seen that coming," he said.

"But I guess you deserve to be so, look at you, so fucking perfect," he said as he finally let his tongue make contact with your centre. You gasped at the sensation, your hips jerking. "There we go," he said, throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he put a death grip on your hips, his tongue swirling around your clit, making you squirm. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, hands flying to grip his hair as slight mewls came from your mouth. But when he started to fuck you with his tongue, your mewls turned to moans. His name fell from your mouth attached to words of appreciation, heat coating you so fiercely you thought you were burning.

Your orgasm came to you out of nowhere, you felt out of this world, the knot in your stomach splitting, fire in your veins as you screamed his name, back arching as you saw stars, your thighs shaking, but he didn't stop one moment, eating you out through your high, only stopping when you fell back into the bed. Breathing so erratic. You looked down from your heavy lidded eyes to Aegon, who licked up the remnants of your orgasm like a dog. You felt so lightheaded as giggles fell from your mouth, his eyes catching yours, he looked so amused. "Someone's happy," he said, crawling back up as he rested on you, arms on either side of you as he smiled down at you. He wiped a tear from your face with his thumb.

Your giggles finally stopped as you looked at him. "How are you so good at that?" you asked, still breathless. "Practise," he said, running a finger up your torso to the t-shirt stuck to you from sweat. You felt a trail of goosebumps he left in wake from his touch. "You're so beautiful," he said, heat pooling into your centre at his words. You thought you'd be completely passed out from one orgasm, but the way he was making you feel made your body have other plans. "You're going to be all mine," he said, flipping you both so now he was semi horizontal and you straddled him. He took off your top, you willingly lifting your arms like the obedient girl you were for him. His eyes shining with mischief as he eyed your tits. "You've got to be kidding me, I should've taken this off sooner," he said, hands kneading both as he pulled you towards him, mouth on your chest in no time as he sucked on one while kneaded the other, and you began grinding against him. "No more time for teasing, princess," he said, patting your thigh as you got off him and he took off his pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, pre-cum coating his enlarged tip. You wondered if he'd get bruised if he waited any longer.

"You can blow me some other time, I don't think I have any more patience," he said, grabbing his own dick as he swirled the precum onto his tip, giving a few pumps before signalling you back with two fingers. Something you'd normally perceive as disrespectful but today, only made him hotter, and you climbed on top of him. Your hand replaced his as you guided him to your entrance. When his tip touched you, you wanted to cry out in satisfaction. "We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow," you said. "I'll buy you a fucking hospital, just let me fuck you right now," he said, your eyes shooting up to him. You might have teased him, but the lack of self control on you was much stronger than his impatience could ever be, and you slowly sunk onto him, and he watched your face contort in pain.

His hands rubbed your sides comfortingly. "It'll be okay, baby, just a little bit longer," he said, and you rested yourself onto him, forehead coming into contact with him as you felt him stretch your walls.

His touch on your side felt good, and you focused on that as you slowly moved, a new feeling replacing the pain bit by bit. He flipped you around again, his weight partially on you and partially on his arm as he brought up the other, he held your face to his. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, you shook your head. He moved very slow, but still, it felt good. And he kept moving, and the more he moved, the better it felt. "Faster Aegon," you said, voice barely audible as you felt something completely different for the first time. This really was nothing like the first guy. And then Aegon almost pulled out, making your eyebrows knit in confusion, but then he slammed back into you, your head falling back as you gasped. And he did it over and over again, getting faster as he watched you. Your hips moved in sync with his, your head thrown back as he felt your nails on his shoulder blade, one hand on his neck.

He lifted one leg of yours over his hip and began going at a fast, constant pace. Your gasps turned to moans, moans to screams as he got faster, and had you screaming "harder Aegon, harder," in no time. And harder he got. You were a mess by the time Aegon felt himself close. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum," you were frantic, his movement emptying your thoughts completely. "Cum for me baby," he said, and you did, harder than ever before, he fucked you through your orgasm, spilling into you in no time, feeling your walls clench around him. He collapsed over you, breathing heavily as you did the same.

"Holy fuck, that's the best sex I've had in ages," he said, something about it being you making it different. He's fucked lots of girls, lots of firsts, and he did take care to be gentle, but never this gentle. It was different with you. He looked up at you, but you'd passed out, presumably too much for you. He smiled. Sweat coated you, and he could hear your heartbeat. He stayed like that for a minute or so before deciding to get more comfortable. He went to the bathroom, wetting a towel and coming back to the room. He cleaned your thighs, you jerked at the contact, but he continued. Once he reached your centre, you gasped, but remained asleep. He threw away the towel, climbing back into the bed. You slightly turned away as he pulled the comforter over you both, coming closer to you. The moment his skin touched yours, you sighed, moving closer to him. He let you rest your head on his arm, you moved your ass to perfectly fit into his touch, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you, still not finding sleep, but he did feel comfort. Your hair smelled sweet, you smelled sweet. Your body was made for him, he realised that the moment you leaned into his touch on that counter. He remembered the hint of strawberry on your tongue. You engulfed his thoughts and the more he thought of you, the heavier his eyes got. He passed out soon.

Aegon was a deep sleeper, but he woke up before you. Your back was to his chest, and he ran his fingers over your figure. He lifted himself up on his elbows, his movements making you turn and lie flat, face slightly towards him. His eyes went over your face, down to the marks he left on your neck, your chest, and down to your stomach where the sheets covered you. He felt himself getting hard as his fingers played with your breasts.

He found himself ripping away the sheets and lying on top of you, taking your tit into his mouth as he played with the other. You sighed. His mouth inched upwards. He lifted his head again as you opened your eyes. "What are you doing," you chuckled.

There was a raspiness in your voice that made his blood rush down to his cock even faster. "Enjoying nature’s gifts," he shrugged, moving slightly so you could sit up. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked around the room, grabbing the bottle of water. "This is so much better than waking up to Daeron’s crass screaming," you said, and he chuckled. He lifted himself up, connecting his lips with yours as you kissed back. "I haven't even brushed my teeth yet," you said laughing as you slightly pushed at his chest. "Let me enjoy the fruits of my labour," he shrugged, smiling at you. "What is that supposed to mean," you said, mirroring his expression. "It means you didn't even say good night," he said. "Well good morning," you retorted, letting out a slight squeal as he pulled you down.

"Good morning, princess," he said, connecting your lips again as his hand went between your legs. You moaned into his mouth at the contact. "Any special demands today?" he asked. You blushed. "I love it when you get shy," he said, removing his hands from you as he positioned himself aligned up with your entrance as he pushed himself in, the both of you moaning at the contact. There was no pain today, only pleasure as he started thrusting himself into you, lips coming up to kiss you so you didn't wake the whole house. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you moaned his name into his mouth. It might've changed something in him because he got a lot harder, and suddenly, you gasped as he hit your sweet spot. He must've sensed it.

"Did you like that?" he asked, hitting the spot again and again as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten tremendously. "Oh god Aegon, please," you moaned. "Wait for me baby, wait for me," he said, feeling himself getting sloppier. "I can't hold on anymore," you said, tears building up into your eyes. "Come on then princess, cum for me," he said, biting your lower lip as you let go, feeling him spill inside you again. He fell on you as you were both panting. "Did you pass out again," he said. "No, I'm right here," you said as he looked up at you. Your fingers found themselves in his soft hair as you both looked at each other until you heard Joffrey running as he screamed "mommy" outside Aegon's door. Your eyes widened.

"Fuck, Rhaenyra's here" you whispered. "So?" he shrugged, eyebrows knit in confusion. "What if she finds us, more importantly, what if Auntie Ali finds us," you questioned. "They won't, even if they heard anyone, they'd just assume it was some one night stand, not you," he said. You liked how he excluded you from being a one night stand, but there were more important matters at hand. "Yeah but what happens when they don't find miss-sleeps-till-noon in her room at-'' you looked around, tapping his phone screen to check the time, "oh, well it's noon, no issue then I guess, I'll just sneak into my bathroom," you shrugged.

You almost screamed when there was a knock on Aegon's door. "Are you decent, Aegon?" came Alicent's voice. Your hands flew to your mouth, Aegon however seemed completely relaxed as he rested his face in your tits. "No mother," he simply said. "Well get down soon, everyone's here," she said as you heard her walking away.

Aegon began kissing your tits again, but you stopped him. "No, we need to get back now," you said. "They're gonna take like half an hour to settle down so you can sneak into your room, we can have our fun till then," he said, hands on your waist.

"No Aegon, please," you said, pleading eyes enough to make Aegon agree. He got up from you as you grabbed your sweatshirt discarded on the floor and put it on before looking for your underwear. "Looking for this," he said, holding up your panties with one finger as he sat back on his bed. Your face flushed as you snatched it away before putting it on, Aegon's gaze not leaving you once. You put your hair behind your fingers as your face scrunched up. "There's cum all over me," you frowned. "You didn't let me clean you up like last night," he shrugged. You smiled at him, sitting back on his bed next to him as you grabbed his face, kissing him again. "At least you didn't leave any marks," you said. But his amused face made you freeze. "You-you didn't, right?" you asked again. "Depends, what exactly do you mean by marks," he shrugged. You shot up, almost running to the large mirror that stood at one corner of the room.

You gasped, at your reflection, other than your messy hair and swollen lips, there was a trail of marks, at least two or three on your neck. You stretched your top down to see a few scattered over your breasts. You stuttered. "Aegon I-" you looked at him. "What am I gonna do?" you asked, eyes wide. He shrugged. You hit his shoulder as you'd walked back to him, but he only laughed at you as you sat. "Shut the fuck up," you scowled. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I won't do it the next time," he said, leaning back onto his bed. You smiled at his words as you went back to sit on top of him.

"I thought we couldn't have fun," he quipped. "Oh shit you're right," you said, remembering your own words as you started to get off him, looking up at him again as he tightly held you in place. "You can't play with people like that, baby," he said, hands kneading your ass again. "I'm being for real Aegon, my stamina is nowhere near yours," you said, putting your arms around his neck again. "What the fuck are you running circles around the castle for every morning then?" he said, trying to catch your lips in his as you moved back slightly. "That's different, Aegon," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh really?" he said, mocking you. "Shut up," you said, letting him kiss you at his second attempt. "We gotta do this every day, I've got some fun positions to show you," he exclaimed. "Are you crazy, we can't do this everyday," you said, laughing at him. "Well how much time do you want in between every single best night of your life?" he questioned, you looked down as you blushed. "A week?" you questioned. "Are you crazy?" He imitated you.

You kissed him again. "I bet you one orgasm, you won't last three days," he quipped. "Wow ok, mr. gambling man," you said, accepting his deal nonetheless. "Hey, if you win, you get an extra orgasm, if you lose, you get an extra orgasm," he said, shrugging. You laughed, "wow that's some gambling skills right there, I think I just swooned," you said. "Oh I'll make you swoon," he said, flipping you guys around. "I was being serious, Aegon," you said.

[turn3tifosi]

II. dancing queen

paul aron x stranger!reader

dino's plan to get paul to cheer up works better than expected, thanks to the beautiful stranger

series masterlist | main masterlist

Dino had dragged Paul to the club after the last race of the season. Of course they still had Macau left, but a night of partying never hurt anybody. Not even their diets (as long as they turned up to the gym on time.)

Paul’s mood had been sour the whole weekend because he knew he could have won the championship, if not for some decisions on the pit wall.

Add to that the fact that he was going to lose his spot in the Mercedes Junior Team because of, well, a certain driver.

“Hey! Come on! Look at that girl! She’s enjoying herself! Take some notes and enjoy yourself too!!” Dino screamed over the loud music before he took a shot. 

As Paul looked on to the girl Dino pointed at, the lights dimmed even more, but you didn’t look like you cared. You were still screaming and dancing to the songs, the music just right.

He wonders if you have a boyfriend. “If she did, he would be there with her right?” He reasons with himself in his mind. 

Dino, who is half drunk by now, is back by Paul’s side, “Come on Paulito! The night’s young and the music’s high! Let’s get on the dance floor!!” Screaming the last few words. 

Paul sighed, knowing Dino wouldn't take no for an answer. Reluctantly, he downed the rest of his drink and let himself be dragged towards the dance floor. The club was a frenzy of lights and music, the bass thumping so hard he could feel it in his chest. He watched as Dino started to dance, his movements erratic and joyful, perfectly in sync with the pulsing rhythm.

Paul scanned the crowd again, his eyes inevitably drawn back to you. You were lost in the music, a carefree smile on your face, your body moving with an ease and grace that made you stand out even more. He couldn't help but be captivated by your energy. It was like you were the living embodiment of the song that was currently playing – "Dancing Queen" by ABBA.

Feeling a bit more emboldened by the alcohol and the infectious energy around him, Paul started to move to the beat. It wasn't long before he found himself close to you, and for a moment, he hesitated. But then you turned and caught his eye, and the spark in your gaze gave him the courage to step closer.

"Hey," he said, leaning in so you could hear him over the music. "Having a good time?"

You laughed, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely! What about you? You look like you could use some cheering up."

Paul chuckled, surprised at how easily you seemed to read him. "Yeah, it's been a rough weekend. But I think you're right – maybe I do need to lighten up a bit."

You smiled brightly and grabbed his hand, pulling him further into the throng of dancers. "Then let's make it a night to remember!"

As the music continued, the two of you danced together, your movements synchronized as if you'd been doing this for years. For the first time in what felt like forever, Paul let go of his worries about the championship, the team, and his uncertain future. He was just another person on the dance floor, lost in the moment, enjoying the sheer exhilaration of the music and the company of a beautiful stranger.

Dino, watching from a distance, grinned and raised his drink in a silent toast to Paul. He knew his friend needed this – a night of pure, unadulterated fun, free from the pressures of racing and the weight of unmet expectations.

As the night wore on, Paul found himself laughing more than he had in months. The songs changed, but the energy remained electric, the crowd united in their collective euphoria. With each passing minute, the stress and disappointment of the season melted away, replaced by a sense of liberation and joy.

When the club finally started to wind down and the lights came up, Paul felt like a different person. He was still unsure about what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could face it with a smile.

As you exchanged numbers and promised to meet up again, Paul couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of hope. Maybe things wouldn't turn out so bad after all. And maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new and exciting.

Walking out of the club with Dino by his side, Paul took a deep breath of the cool night air. "Thanks for dragging me out tonight, Dino," he said, clapping his friend on the back. "I really needed this."

Dino grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Anytime, Paulito. Anytime."

[wigglywormy]

unexplored territory [bakugou/deku, 2.3k, nsfw]

first prompt request! thank you for sending it in, I hope you like it xoxo (also cross posted to ao3!)

warnings: nsfw, light dom/sub, frottage, nipple play, minors DNI

-----

Izuku isn’t always amazing at things on the first try, while Katsuki on the other hand seems to catch on to everything so quickly and with such ease. Perfectionism at least is a quality that they both share, so even when Izuku fails in the beginning, he refuses to quit until he can do it with his eyes closed. Breaking his fingers, breaking his arms, breaking the plethora of bones in his body trying to master his quirk was easy, because the drive to make the quirk his own was such a powerful motivator. Well, maybe not easy, but the motivation deep within his core truly was the biggest push he needed. 

Staying up all hours of the night studying for exams, spending hours upon hours in the gym to perfect his body to handle his quirk and whatever else comes his way, and attempting to keep a steady and healthy diet are mindless tasks now, ingrained in his blood and expertly learned and honed. 

Which is why, Izuku thinks as his hands slip underneath Katsuki’s tank top, this particular task is so…. daunting. 

They’re still in the new stages of dating, slowly melting away all of the awkwardness of first kisses and hands touching hands, and even though it’s only been a few months, Izuku is frustrated that he’s not an expert at Katsuki’s body yet. He’s stupidly determined to change that. 

“Izuku,” Katsuki grumbles from his position on the bed, sprawled flat on his back with his notebook held up in front of his face, “Cut it out. We literally graduate in a fuckin’ month, we have to study for our final exams.”

Izuku swallows thickly from his place hovered over the blonde, his hand pausing where it’s pressed over Katsuki’s stomach. “We’ve been studying for hours, Kacchan.”

Katsuki scoffs, “And? You gonna tell me if I sit you down right now and quiz you, you’ll ace every subject I throw at ya?”

Izuku pouts. “It’s not good to cram too hard. Can we just take a break?”

“And do what?” Katsuki replies mindlessly, going back to flipping through his notebook. 

Izuku slides his hand higher, Katsuki’s tank getting bunched up further until his pink nipples are exposed to the warm air in the dorm room. Katsuki shifts a bit, but doesn’t push him away. He also doesn’t put down his notebook either, so Izuku bites his lip and takes it as a green light. 

Katsuki’s body is something out of Izuku’s wet dreams, really, and after they got together, once Izuku was allowed to touch, he decided to make it his new mission to figure out exactly all of the ways to make Katsuki tick. 

He’s already discovered the spot behind Katsuki’s ear that makes him gasp, the spot right in the dip of his throat that, when Izuku latches on and sucks, causes Katsuki’s fingers to spasm and his breath to stutter. He’s figured out that Katsuki doesn’t really like the back of his neck touched, but he loves when Izuku drags his nails sharply down his spine when they are kissing. 

He’s honestly discovered a lot about his boyfriend’s body, but there’s so much territory that’s currently unexplored, and it’s driving Izuku mad. 

They haven’t really gone past making out and hand jobs, and Izuku tries not to get too handsy since he’s not really sure what kind of boundaries there are at this new, fresh stage in their relationship, but Izuku’s been watching. He’s been analyzing, calculating, and watching. He notices how Katuski’s breath hitches when he’s cold and his shirt rubs against his chest, nipples hard and poking out beneath the fabric. He’s noticed how Katsuki’s hips twitch up when they’re making out on his bed and Izuku’s hands drag up his chest, over his pecks. 

It’s time to test his theory, and see what kind of reactions Katsuki will give him. So Izuku can see if this is another discovery he can add to his ever-growing list of everything Kacchan. 

Izuku situates himself so he’s straddling Katsuki’s thighs, and though he can’t see the blonde’s face behind his notebook, he sees how Katsuki’s fingers clutch at the pages just a bit tighter. Izuku has his tank top bunched all the way up to his armpits now, pale muscular torso on full display, and Izuku’s mouth nearly waters as he zeros in on those cute pink nipples, just begging to be touched. 

He takes it slow, dragging both hands up along the curve of Katsuki’s waist, and at the first brush of his thumbs against his nipples, Katsuki jerks so hard he drops his notebook. The pages flutter as it bounces off the bed and onto the floor, and now Izuku can fully see how pink Katsuki’s cheeks have become. 

Oh, okay. Yeah, Izuku is going to get a lot of research done tonight. Katsuki is his favorite subject, afterall. 

“Izuku,” Katsuki growls, low and quiet, almost like a warning. Izuku happily ignores him, thumbing his nipples a bit more firmly this time, and when his nail catches against the skin, Katsuki straight up squeaks. 

“Jesus - calm down,” he manages to grit out through his teeth, but his hands have come down to clutch at Izuku’s thighs, and his gaze has darkened the way it always does before they fool around. 

“Have you ever had your nipples played with before, Kacchan?” Izuku asks quietly, massaging his pecs with large, calloused hands. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Katsuki snaps, and then softer, quieter, “You… you know you're my fuckin’ first. Or whatever.”

First kiss, first boyfriend, first love - Izuku feels his heart swell that’s he’s managed to collect so many things from Kacchan. It makes him so happy his heart could very well burst. 

But - first, he needs to focus. Katsuki’s eyeing him curiously, and so Izuku settles more firmly on his hips before gently, so gently, fluttering his fingers over the sensitive nubs. 

“What - ah, f-fuck,” Katsuki chokes out, and the startled laugh that escapes his lips makes Izuku pause. 

“Sensitive?” Izuku asks with delight, because he knew deep down they were, but he didn’t know that Katsuki’s chest would also be ticklish. 

“Just - do it harder,” Katsuki grumbles out, not meeting Izuku’s gaze. “None of that gentle shit.”

Izuku happily ignores him yet again, scraping his nails feather light around the pink buds until Katsuki’s full on squirming beneath him, lips twitching on a smile as he tries not to laugh. His hands dart up to grab Izuku’s wrists, but Izuku is quicker, snatching the blonde’s hands up in one of his own and pinning them above Katsuki’s head. Izuku’s hand is large, and able to wrap completely around both of Katsuki’s wrists to keep him in place, which is nice because it allows him to have a free hand to continue his exploration.

“Are your nipples ticklish, Kacchan?” 

“No - ”

His words are cut off with a gasp when Izuku leans down, flicking the tip of a tongue gently across his left nipple, and Katsuki’s back arches up, his body trembling as he chokes on a giggle - but then moans when Izuku sucks on the bud firmly. 

“Ah - mmm,” Katsuki moans, and Izuku notices his cock throbbing in his sweatpants. 

“You’re so cute,” Izuku teases, enjoying the way Katsuki’s cheeks flush at the compliment. He’s still firmly holding Katsuki’s wrists above his head, and he uses his free hand to trace his fingers softly along the side of Katsuki’s chest, squeezing his pec before dipping dangerously into the hollow of his underarm. That has Katsuki snorting softly around a surprised laugh, and Izuku notes with glee that his hips grind up at the same time. 

Oh, he likes this? Izuku mentally notes that in his head. 

“Izuku - fuck cut it out!” Katsuki’s voice is shaky, his head turned to hide in his shoulder as Izuku continues to drag his fingers teasingly across his chest, tickling at his nipples, the sides of his ribs, dipping into his armpit before coming back to those pert, hard, sensitive nipples. Izuku can feel Katuki’s cock pulse, his hips grinding up unconsciously.

“I wonder if you can come like this,” Izuku muses, “I wonder - how would a feather feel? If I just… tied you up, tickled your nipples for hours until you couldn’t take it anymore. They’re really sensitive, huh?”

“Shut - sh-shut up.”

“Hm - we don’t have any feathers - oh!” Izuku exclaims, releasing Katsuki’s wrists to lean over, digging around in the bedside drawer before pulling out a small vibrator they like to play with occasionally. Izuku’s only used it on their cocks before, but he’s so curious - 

“Don’t you dare,” Katsuki groans. 

“Hold onto the headboard,” Izuku commands softly, and Katsuki swallows and does as he’s told. 

When he turns it on, Katsuki visibly tenses up, his gaze growing dark, and when Izuku gently grazes his nipple, Katsuki’s entire body arches up, his arms shooting down to shove the toy away as he shrieks. 

“Oh my g - f-fuck!”

It’s like music to Izuku’s ears, the strained laughter and desperate gasp that the blonde lets out. 

“Arms up, Kacchan.”

He grumbles but does as he’s told, fingers gripping the headboard so hard it creaks, and he bites his lip as Izuku lowers the setting on the vibrator before pressing it back to his nipple. The reaction is instant, Katsuki wriggling aggressively underneath Izuku, and finally after a few moments, Izuku hears little broken giggles from Katsuki’s mouth. His eyes are squeezed shut, beads of sweat popping up on his forehead, and when Izuku uses his other hand to pinch and roll his other nipple, the blonde cries out a shaky moan. 

“Ah - ahah - Izuku it’s - fuck, I c-can’t - ”

“Does it tickle?” 

Katsuki’s face burns. “Fuck off - yes, ahahah! You fuckin’ asshole - !”

“Does it feel good?” 

Izuku rolls his hips down, grinding their arousals together, watching at Katsuki’s mouth parts and eyelids flutter with pleasure. He switches the vibrator to the other nipple, and darts back down to flick his tongue ticklishly over the other one. Katsuki’s shaking violently, as if his body has no idea how to handle the sensations, and when Izuku thumbs the vibrator up to a higher setting, he nearly groans at the shriek of laughter that fills the room. 

“God - you drive me crazy,” Izuku groans, “You’re so cute, I can’t believe your nipples are so sensitive.”

“I c-can’t help it,” Katsuki whines, and his fingers are turning white with how hard he’s trying to keep his arms up. When Izuku drags his fingers back into the dip of Katsuki’s armpit though, the blonde can’t hold out any longer, and his arms dart down to grip Izuku’s wrists. The action simultaneously causes the vibrator to press harder onto his nipple, and Izuku bites his lip, drunk off of the moans and laughter coming out of his boyfriend’s mouth as he squirms helplessly against the bed. 

“Oh - nng - Izuku, Izuku, I’m - ahahah, g-gonna -!”

“You gonna come like this?” Izuku says in a low, deep voice as he grinds harder against Katsuki’s lap. His fingers are trapped now in Katsuki’s underarm, fingers fluttering sporadically as he circles the vibrator torturously over a nipple. This time, when he darts down to lick, bite, suck at the other nipple, Katsuki screams, gasping on a sob as broken laughter forces its way out. It’s so much, too much, but Izuku’s feeling mean, so he hums against sweat-damp skin as he flicks the vibrator to the highest setting, pressing it right over the sensitive bud. 

Katsuki’s covering his face now, embarrassed tears leaking out from under his trembling palms, and with one last roll of his hips, he’s coming, body going taut like a live wire as Izuku tickles and licks him through his orgasm. 

“Stop - st-stop,” Katsuki gasps, and Izuku tosses the vibrator to the side in order to bring both hands to Katsuki’s chest, teasing those cute nipples, grazing down his sides, pinching at his hips and trailing back up again to squeeze his pecks as he feels the blonde’s cock twitch and throb, his sweatpants growing damp through his release. Katsuki paws at him weakly, tiredly giggling and whining as the overstimulation short circuits his brain.

“Ahaha - ah, p-please,” Katsuki writhes, clutching at the front of Izuku’s shirt as the boy leans down, kissing and nipping up the side of his neck. Katsuki’s strained laughter is right in his ear now, and Izuku groans loudly as he brings a hand down to squeeze his own cock. 

“Just  - fuck, just a little more, Kacchan, you can take it, right?”

It’s less of a question and more of a demand. Izuku pants wetly into Katsuki’s neck, one hand rolling a nipple between his fingers as his other squeezes his own arousal, and finally, when Katsuki’s sobbing and babbling nonsense into his ear, Izuku finally comes with a loud groan, pressing his forehead to Katsuki’s temple as he rides out his orgasm. 

“Jesus - fuckin’ quit it,” Katsuki whines, finally batting away the hand that’s still teasing his oversensitive nipples. Izuku mumbles out a half-hearted apology and sits up, smoothing his palms firmly over Katsuki’s chest to soothe the blonde’s trembling nerves. After a few moments of catching their breath, Katsuki’s eyes flutter open, and he looks utterly debauched. 

“Holy crap,” Izuku mumbles, leaning down to kiss the blonde deeply, cupping his face in large hands and wiping his tear tracks away with his thumbs. He has so much content to add to his Kacchan folder now. 

“So much for a break,” Katsuki grumbles, shoving Izuku off of him and splaying his limbs out tiredly. “Now I need a goddamn nap, you fuckin’ menace.”

“Sorry?” Izuku offers, but they both know he’s not actually sorry at all. “I didn’t know your nipples were so - ” 

He’s cut off when Katsuki shoves a hand in his face, his cheeks glowing pink. “Shut up, oh my god.”

“Kacchan’s so cute,” Izuku coos, voice muffled beneath his boyfriend’s palm, “I wonder where else Kacchan is sensitive?”

Katsuki just groans loudly and shoves a pillow aggressively over his face to hide his blush. 

God, Izuku is going to be the death of him, he swears. 

[waklman]

Hi Tilly! So, I’m living by myself for the first time and my dishwasher just flooded my apartment 🫠I’m fine😀, really… 😭. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe write something with Bradley and babybear 🥺. They are my comfort characters! love ya ❤️

summary: you and bradley go out for a late night snack or bf! bradley who stands there in silence x gf! who orders food for them both.

warnings: mentions of strict dieting, one or two suggestive jokes. fluff, 18+ blog.

note: helpp the way that kind of made me laugh. as a fellow girlie who also gets herself in trouble when left alone, i hope your floors are okay! excuse the quality as writers block has me by the neck

something 'bout you masterlist.

It’s not often that Bradley dines out. He’ll indulge in some of Penny’s greasy bar snacks once in a while—nothing more than that.

With the one time he did slack off, it wasn’t exactly easy to get back to his original physique. In fact, Bradley even found himself struggling to keep up with the likes of Hangman at one point.

And that was just the wake up call he needed to finally get back on track. 

Since then, he’s made sure to double down on his efforts to stay in shape, scarfing down his protein packed, repetitive, plain meals. It’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit tasking, but it's nothing Bradley Bradshaw couldn’t put up with. And when Bradley was committed towards something, he was all in. 

But what he forgot to include in his ‘fool proof’ plan to remain loyal to his diet, was his stubborn girlfriend who loves to spoil him rotten. Which is why he's finding it difficult to swallow down his food tonight.

The usual pre-prepped dinner has never tasted so bland and downright dry, especially when you’re planted in front of him with that tablet in your hands.

For the past thirty minutes, Bradley has been subjected to a screening of strangers eating a variety of foods—from huge portions of instant noodles—to enormous crab legs being dipped in buckets of cheese. 

He’s seen it all. 

“Give in,” you whisper, fingers tightly curled around the edges of the ipad, though, you’re careful enough to not block the screen itself.

Across the rounded table he’s sat in, you’re standing there like you’re getting paid to show him a compilation of mukbang videos. You’d put the billboards lined up on the nearby highways to shame. 

“Not a fucking chance,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head firmly. 

Stabbing his fork into another piece of boiled chicken, Bradley stuffs it into his mouth in defiance. He refuses to wave the white flag, not when he’s worked so hard to finally restrain himself.

Maverick would have to come twirling into the living-room in ballerina-get up for him to take it as a sign to treat himself to a cheat meal. 

At his clear refusal to give in, your head peeks out, just so slightly, behind the thirteen inch screen, eyes narrowed with fiery determination igniting them.

“Mcdonalds. Wendys. Burger King. In and Out,” you repeatedly chant, legs starting to tremble under the strain of standing up for so long. 

Bradley only flares his nostrils, a sign that he is not backing down either.

In any other scenario, his knees would’ve immediately buckled after one plea from you. But right now, he knows you’d stuff his face with junk—that he’s been successfully cutting out for months, if you were given the okay from him.

Though, he does have to admit, he’s finding it hard to keep a stern face because your legs look like they’re about to completely give out. Not wanting to keep you up any longer, Bradley tunes out your endless chant of fast food chains—which somehow turns into a catchy song, as he shovels more strips of chicken in his mouth.

Maybe if he finishes his dinner faster, he could coax you onto the couch to watch more Ryan Gosling movies. 

Following your gut feeling, you lift a finger to the front of the screen, tapping repeatedly on the skip button—until it felt right. After spamming your pointer just a few times, you lift the index off the glass, letting it play at a random point in the compilation.

Bradley’s tongue prods his cheek, straight face starting to falter. “Baby it’s not gonna work. Please just sit dow—” 

His mouth immediately clamps shut, throat moving as he swallows back a wad of drool pooling inside his mouth. The boring dinner under him is long forgotten. 

Noticing his dazed state, you lower the screen to probe what finally caught his attention. Bradley’s eyes practically trails the movement of the tablet, not looking away for a second.

A platter of juicy burgers leaking oil and mountains of fries is what breaks him. 

“And he’ll have the double bacon-burger, two large fries, one coke and—” 

The teenage boy behind the register blinks in disbelief, watching the giant man in front of him lean down towards his girlfriend, shyly whispering in her ear. 

Bradley draws back again, standing a head taller than you with his arms crossed around your front, glassy eyes roaming the lit-up menu stretched above the line of registers. 

“Oh, can we actually make that a root beer? Also I’m really sorry, but can you remove the tomatoes from the burger as well?” You request, giving Bradley comforting strokes on the forearm he has slung over your chest.

“Yes, Ma’m I can…I can do that for you,” the worker clears his throat, editing the order on the screen, customer service voice practically cracking. 

When you two first walked in, with matching pajama pants, the fast food employee assumed he was dealing with a pair of psychos from the streets.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he’d always get one or two unsettling visitors in the duration of his night shift. But they’d always prowl inside the joint by themselves—they never had company—nor have they ever teamed up on him before. Briefly, he considered hovering his hand over the dusty emergency button directly under the counter. 

But to his surprise, you two were just a relatively normal couple with a craving for burgers at midnight. 

“Alrighty, your total comes out to 18.50,” he reads, eyes nervously darting between the two of you. “...Will that be cash or card?”

Almost in a race with each other, you both drop the lovely couple act, digging in your own pajama pants for your wallets. The anxious worker behind the counter starts taking a careful step back, afraid you two were going to pull out a weapon on him all of a sudden. God, he shouldn’t have let his guard down so easily. 

He stills as you beat Bradley to it, holding out a credit card between your fingers, excitedly pointing it towards him. 

Bradley begins to panic, patting down his empty pockets. “Babybear, where the fuck is my wallet?” He tilts his head down at you, a knowing look settling on his face. 

As the credit card is taken from you, your mouth stretches into a wide smile, and you crane your neck backwards to look at him. “I tossed it in the back of the car when you weren’t looking,” you gleam in satisfaction.

Bradley sighs in disbelief, no wonder you were so clingy in the car. 

“Is that why you were crawlin’ all over me during all the stop lights?” 

“Gimme a kiss,” you suddenly demand, cutting him off. 

Bradley blinks at your puckered lips.

It practically pulls him into a trance, because he’s already dipping his head down to give you a quick peck. In a strange way, it’s almost a perfect recreation of that upside-down spider man kiss scene. 

Ultimately, he decides to keep the comparison to himself. If he were to mention it, you’d most likely start gushing about another movie actor.

He’s already heard enough of Ryan Gosling lately.

“I know you can open your mouth bigger than that,” you frown in his lap, readjusting the bundle of fries between your fingers. 

The buckle of his undone seatbelt hits your ankle when you wriggle to find a comfortable position next.

Bradley licks the ketchup off his lip. “Yeah, you would know,” he teases, giving your butt a quick squeeze, sleazy look on his face. 

Somehow, he’s the same person who was barely able to order food for himself inside the burger joint that’s currently behind his parked Bronco.

Receiving a silent look of disapproval from you, he finally clears his throat. 

“Okay, someone didn’t find that funny,” he mumbles, stretching his mouth wider for you.

“A little more. Ahhh,” you sing, encouraging him to take the fistful of french fries. Under you, Bradley nearly chokes when you stuff one more in his mouth, slamming his jaw shut with finality. 

“I like when your mouth is full. Less talking,” you jut your chin at him, all too pleased with the lapse of silence. 

Bradley stills his chewing, raising a brow at you. 

“Ugh! Stop it. Keep chewing those fries,” you complain, reaching for the large root beer resting on the dashboard behind you.

Bradley grins, mouth full of food, holding you steady when you twist your middle to grab the drink. 

Swallowing down a large ball of potato, he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw, taking a long sip from the drink cradled between your hands. 

“Are you full?” You question, watching him lean back after finishing off the remains of the beverage. You decide to set the empty cup into the driver's seat for now. 

“Feeling so full, baby,” he groans, shutting his eyes as if it’ll help him digest it faster. 

Pursing your lips to hold back a laugh, you place a suggestive hand over his stomach. “Yeah? Feel it all in your tummy,” your voice drops to a lower register, mimicking his dirty talk from the other day. 

His eyes snap open, immediately.

The cramped Bronco, littered in empty paper bags and greasy wrapping paper jostles as he rushes to sit up tall. “You said no more jokes,” he scoffs, pinching your sides. What you said was worse than everything else he spat out tonight. 

“Hey,” you whine, scratching his bloated stomach with your nails. “Don’t act all mad big guy. I know you’re about to give in anyways,” you giggle. 

Bradley traces his teeth with his tongue, failing to conceal his growing smile. Because you’re right.

If you weren’t, he wouldn’t be thirty minutes away from home, favorite person in his lap and favorite cheat meal in his stomach.

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[enhyhoonie]

DIET PEPSI (part 1)

Pairing: Racer!Sunghoon x female!reader

Genres: Serie, College!au, Racing!au, smut, ennemies to lovers, !nsfw!

Triggers: Bad language, illegal activities, smut

WC: 4.4k

A/N: I'm an inconsistent writer sorry about that :') I listenned to Diet Pepsi from Addison Rae and that's basically how i got the inspo lmao. THERE'S MORE DON'T WORRY <3

Synopsis : Sunghoon’s fingers traced lightly along my jawline, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His eyes were dark, almost predatory, as they locked onto mine.

“Still trying to play the innocent, huh?” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “Tell me, Y/n, is this really what you want?”

I looked away, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You think you know me so well. But you’re just playing games.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Games? Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you a taste of what you’ve been craving all along.”

I shivered as his hand slid down my side, his touch lingering with a mix of arrogance and seduction. “I’m not here to fulfill your fantasies,” I retorted, though my voice trembled slightly.

Sunghoon leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my neck. “Funny,” he whispered, “because it seems like you’re exactly where I want you. So tell me, how much more do you want to deny it?”

His words were like a caress, both maddening and irresistible. As his hands explored my body, the tension between us crackled with undeniable heat. I could feel my resolve slipping, leaving me to grapple with the dangerous allure of his touch.

“What are your plans for summer break?” Fia asked, tossing her clothes into her suitcase.

“I’m not sure yet… probably looking for a summer job,” I replied thoughtfully. “What about you?”

“I’m heading to my boyfriend’s place for the summer. It’s just a few kilometers from the dorm,” she said with a grin.

“You’re leaving me here?” I said with a mock pout. “It’ll be strange not having you around for two months.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Fia teased with a mischievous smile. “I’m not vanishing completely. I’ll be back from time to time to work on some assignments, and we’ll definitely catch up.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I think I’ll focus on studying as much as I can this summer,” I said.

Fia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Come on, it’s summer break! The last thing you should be doing is burying yourself in books. We’re supposed to have fun!”

I frowned slightly. “I take my studies very seriously. Fine art has always been my dream.”

Fia placed a hand on my shoulder, her tone softening. “A little fun won’t ruin your grades. You’re the top student of your degree. You’ve earned a break.”

I paused, contemplating her words. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right…”

“Of course I am!” she said with a playful nudge.

Fia was right. From the start of the program, I’d poured my heart into being the best. My drive for perfection earned me a scholarship to the University of Applied Arts and a spot on campus. It was time to enjoy this well-deserved summer break.

“Oh, by the way,” Fia said, “this weekend, my boyfriend invited me to a car race he’s participating in. You should come with me!”

I blinked in surprise. “But isn’t that kind of thing illegal?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and it’ll be packed with people. It’ll be a blast!”

“Fia, I’m not sure—”

“No arguments,” she interrupted with a firm tone. “Consider it an order.”

I sighed, feeling resigned. “Alright, fine.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find a hook up,” Fia said with a teasing grin.

I winced. “No thanks. I’ve got more important things to think about.”

Fia just laughed and went back to packing. “Just saying!”

The weekend finally arrived, and with it, the excitement of the car race that Fia and I were about to attend with her boyfriend, Leo. Early that evening, Leo showed up at the dorm to pick us up. His sleek, matte black sports car gleamed under the streetlights, a perfect match for his look.

“Ready for the race?” Leo asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

I managed a nervous smile. “I think so. I’ve never been to something like this before.”

Fia squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Y/n. Leo’s been looking forward to this for weeks. It’s going to be a night to remember!”

The drive took us out of the city and into a more rugged, secluded area. As we approached, the landscape transformed from urban sprawl to an open, abandoned parking lot illuminated by harsh floodlights. The place was alive with the hum of engines and the murmur of an excited crowd.

Leo parked his car and motioned for us to follow. We made our way through the crowd of racing enthusiasts and racers who darted around. The makeshift racetrack was set up in the lot, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness, and it was buzzing with a palpable energy.

“I need to check on the car,” Leo said. “You two find a good spot to watch.”

Fia and I wandered towards the viewing area, navigating through the crowd. I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the scene. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber was strong, mingling with the cool night air.

“Are you alright?” Fia asked, noticing my nervousness.

“Yeah, just a bit out of my element,” I admitted, glancing around at the throngs of people and roaring engines. “This is way more intense than I expected.”

Fia smiled and squeezed my arm. “You’ll get used to it. Leo’s really fired up tonight. And speaking of which, you should see the guy he’s racing against.”

Just then, a tall, imposing figure appeared near the track. He stood beside a sleek, silver racing car that seemed to glimmer under the floodlights. His presence was magnetic, and there was an effortless confidence in the way he carried himself. His dark eyes were sharp and focused, and he exuded an almost aloof air of superiority.

“That’s Sunghoon,” Fia whispered, her voice laced with a mix of awe and excitement. “He’s Leo’s biggest rival. Sunghoon’s undefeated, and Leo’s been itching for this challenge for a long time.”

I stared at Sunghoon, taking in his cool demeanor. He seemed unfazed by the crowd and the hype, his focus solely on the track and his car. The rivalry between him and Leo was evident, and it was clear that this race was more than just a competition—it was personal.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the floodlights cast an artificial daylight over the track, and the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Leo emerged, his expression one of intense focus. He and Sunghoon exchanged terse words, their conversation filled with a competitive edge. Leo’s jaw was set with determination, while Sunghoon remained cool and composed, his demeanor almost nonchalant.

The night sky darkened completely, and the roar of the engines grew louder. The cars lined up on the starting grid, and the crowd’s excitement reached a fever pitch. With the night air charged with tension, the signal was given, and the cars surged forward with a deafening roar.

Fia and I found a good spot to watch, and I could hardly contain my excitement as the two cars sped around the track. The vivid lights of the floodlights made the scene almost surreal, the racing cars cutting through the darkness like shooting stars.

As the race unfolded, I was completely absorbed by the action. The speed, the noise, the thrill—it was all overwhelming and exhilarating. And as the race reached its climax, I felt a rush of adrenaline, caught up in the intensity of the moment.

The two cars were neck and neck, their speed creating a blur of lights and shadows. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, and the tension was almost palpable.

With a final burst of speed, Sunghoon’s sleek silver car edged ahead, crossing the finish line just inches in front of Leo’s black racer. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, their excitement blending with the roar of engines slowly dying down. Sunghoon had won.

As the cars stopped and the cheers subsided, the announcer’s voice cut through the night air, amplifying the stakes of the race. “And there you have it, folks! Sunghoon is our winner tonight! As per the wager, Leo must now grant Sunghoon whatever he desires.”

Sunghoon stepped forward, his calm demeanor unshaken by the cheers and the spotlight. His voice was cold and blunt as he addressed the crowd, though his words were directed solely at Leo. “I want Leo’s girlfriend for the night.”

A hush fell over the crowd. The request was both shocking and humiliating. Leo’s face flushed with anger and frustration as he realised that Sunghoon was humiliating him by forcing Leo to give away his girlfriend to his rival, but before he could react, he turned to Fia and me.

“Fia, Y/n can I talk to you both privately?” Leo’s voice was tense, his eyes shifting between us.

Leo took a deep breath, his frustration evident. “I don’t want to give Sunghoon what he’s asking. It’s not right. But I need a way out of this.”

Fia’s expression hardened, her anger growing. “What do you mean, a way out?”

Leo glanced at me, his eyes pleading. “I’m thinking of proposing something else. Y/n will come instead of you Fia and I’m hoping he’ll accept this as a substitute.”

I felt a wave of confusion and anxiety wash over me. “Me? But why me?”

Leo’s gaze was intense and desperate. “If he accepts this, it might be the only way to avoid giving up Fia and not get humiliated even more.”

Fia’s face was a mix of anger and betrayal. “Leo, this isn’t right. You can’t just—”

Leo interrupted, his voice firm but strained. “It’s the only option we have right now. I need your help, Y/n.”

Fia’s eyes darted between Leo and me, her frustration evident. “Y/n, you don’t have to do this. It’s not fair to put you in this position.”

I was overwhelmed, feeling trapped between my own uncertainty and Fia’s distress. “I—I don’t know. This is all happening so fast. I don’t even know Sunghoon.”

Leo reached out, his tone softening. “Please, Y/n. I’m asking you to do this for Fia’s sake. It’s just for one night, and it’s the only way I can avoid getting humiliated and giving away my girlfriend to this jerk.”

Fia stepped forward, her voice trembling with emotion. “Leo, this is wrong. We need to find another way. Y/n shouldn’t be put in this position.”

Leo’s face was a mask of frustration and desperation. “I don’t have another option right now. If we don’t do this, it’ll only make things worse.”

The idea of stepping into a situation I wasn’t prepared for, and the pressure of Leo’s request, made me feel uneasy.

Leo could see the distress in both Fia’s and my eyes. Trying to calm the situation, he put on a reassuring smile. “Listen, I’ll handle this. Maybe that was too hasty of me, I’ll figure out another way to settle this without involving anyone we don’t want to. Just give me a moment.”

He stepped away from us, his expression a mix of determination and secrecy. I could see him heading towards Sunghoon, their conversation hidden from our view. Fia and I watched anxiously, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Fia muttered, her voice tinged with frustration and worry. “This isn’t fair to anyone.”

I nodded, feeling my anxiety grow. The whole situation felt like a bad dream, and I was unsure how to react.

Moments later, Leo returned with a more composed demeanor, but the tension was still palpable. Without a word, he reached for Fia’s hand. “Let’s go,” he said firmly, guiding her away from the crowd.

Fia looked at Leo in confusion and anger. “Leo, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

Leo didn’t respond, his grip firm but gentle as he led her away. Fia’s protests grew louder, her voice carrying through the noise of the crowd. “Leo, stop! What are you doing?”

My eyes darted around, searching for a way to help her. Just then, Sunghoon approached me, his expression unreadable.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice cold and commanding.

Before I could react, Sunghoon’s hand was on my arm, guiding me towards his car. The crowd had thinned, and the night air felt colder as he led me through the parking lot. My heart raced as I struggled to process what was happening.

“Wait, where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately, his focus on the car. As he forced me inside, he slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a smooth, controlled motion. The low rumble of the car seemed to echo the turmoil inside me.

As we sped away, I glanced back towards the crowd, hoping to see Leo and Fia, but they were already out of sight. The weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders. I had been pulled into this chaotic mess, and I felt trapped and unsure of what lay ahead.

Sunghoon drove in silence for a while. The tension in the car was thick, and I struggled to find the right words.

“Where are we going?” I asked again, trying to break the silence.

Sunghoon finally turned his gaze away from the road, his expression still unreadeble. “To a place where we can talk privately. Leo’s plan was to avoid facing the truth. I don’t appreciate being deceived.”

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the frantic thoughts swirling in my mind. “Leo said he would come up with another solution. He didn’t want to go through with your original plan.”

Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on the road, his face still cold. “It seems he was less forthright than I thought. But here we are.”

As the car sped through the night, I felt trapped between the conflicting actions of Leo and Sunghoon. The night was far from over, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead was both thrilling and terrifying.

Sunghoon maneuvered the car down a winding dirt path, the headlights slicing through the dense forest. The rhythmic thud of the tires against the uneven terrain was the only sound breaking the silence.

He eventually pulled over in a secluded clearing, the car's engine humming softly as he shifted into park. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, and I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears. Sunghoon’s fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, his frustration barely masked by his cool exterior.

He turned to me, his dark eyes fixed with an intensity that made me shiver. “This wasn’t how I planned it,” he said abruptly, his voice betraying a hint of irritation. “I was supposed to take Leo’s girlfriend, not his friend. The humiliation would’ve been far more satisfying.”

He leaned back in his seat, his demeanor shifting back to its usual aloof and nonchalant state. Despite the situation, he seemed eerily calm, as though he was simply going through the motions of a routine rather than engaging in something deeply personal.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice smooth and almost casual, “have you ever done it in a car?”

I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. His question was blunt, and the way he asked it—so casually—made my face grow hot. I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting with the hem of my dress, unable to meet his gaze.

“I... no,” I stammered. “I haven’t.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widened slightly, though his eyes remained unreadable. “I thought as much. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

I shook my head, unable to find the words. The situation was surreal, and his casual demeanor only seemed to heighten my discomfort. I felt trapped, both by the physical confines of the car and the emotional weight of the night.

Sunghoon studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I suppose we’ll make this a first for you then,” he said, his tone almost indifferent.

The way he spoke made me feel like I was part of some game he was playing, and I couldn’t shake the sense of unease. The silence in the car felt heavy, suffused with an uncomfortable tension. Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on me, his smirk never fading. I could feel his eyes on me, as if he was assessing every nuance of my reaction.

“I guess this isn’t exactly your kind of thrill, is it?” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “I mean, it’s clear you haven’t really lived on the wild side.”

“I’m not some... easy target,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the lump forming in my throat. “Just because I haven’t done something like this doesn’t mean I’m... I’m not bold enough.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glinted with a sharp, almost predatory light. He leaned forward slightly, his tone dripping with condescension. “Is that so? I just thought you might be too timid for something like this. You look like someone adamant to step out of your comfort zone.”

The way he spoke was calculated, meant to push my buttons and provoke a reaction. I could feel my pulse quickening as his words sank in, igniting a fierce determination within me. I wasn’t going to let him belittle me, not without a fight.

In a sudden, impulsive decision driven by a mix of defiance and desperation, I shifted my position in the car. Without fully realizing what I was doing, I swung my leg over his lap and straddled him, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and adrenaline.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened in surprise, but the smirk on his lips remained. He looked at me with a blend of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been waiting for this exact reaction. His hand rested casually on my hip, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

“Raise the stakes,” he said, his voice low and almost amused.

The realization of what I had done hit me like a jolt. I was straddling him, the proximity making my heart race even faster. The initial burst of defiance was replaced by a sinking feeling as I understood Sunghoon’s manipulation. He had provoked me, played on my insecurities, and now I was exactly where he wanted me.

A wave of shame and anger washed over me, and I tried to push myself off his lap, but Sunghoon’s grip was firm, holding me in place. His eyes were cold and calculating, and his smile widened with satisfaction.

“You’re quite easy to manipulate, you know,” he said softly, his voice tinged with an edge of cruelty. “It wasn’t hard to get you to react. All it took was a little prodding.”

I was taken aback by his words, the sting of his taunt cutting deep. I had been tricked, my attempt to assert myself used against me. The realization made me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I struggled to maintain my composure.

“I... I didn’t mean to—” I started to say, but my voice faltered as I tried to regain control of the situation.

Sunghoon’s grip on my hip tightened slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “It’s alright,” he said with a cold, almost pitying tone. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a part of the game. And now, you’re fully in it.”

Sunghoon’s eyes never left mine as he took in the flush of anger and embarrassment on my face. His smirk grew more pronounced, a blend of satisfaction and cruel amusement evident in his gaze.

“Since you’re so eager to prove yourself,” he said, his voice smooth and laced with taunting, “why don’t you give me a hickey?”

The request was unexpected, and I felt a surge of panic. The idea of doing something so intimate and, frankly, embarrassing in my current state made my heart pound even harder. I was overwhelmed by the situation, unsure of what to do or how to respond. I felt a growing aversion towards him, fueled by his manipulation and the way he seemed to toy with me.

But my pride was a stubborn force. I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t know how to give a hickey, not to him. The very thought of telling him that was mortifying, and I refused to give him that satisfaction.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling hands. “Fine,” I said, trying to sound confident despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “I’ll do it.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glittered with a dangerous, sensual light. He tilted his head slightly, exposing the side of his neck. His hand wandered from my hip to my back, fingers grazing my skin with a touch that was both deliberate and electrifying.

“Go on,” he said, his voice low and almost a purr. “I’m waiting.”

My heart raced as I leaned in closer, the heat of his body against mine making my breath hitch. I pressed my lips to his skin tentatively, trying to muster the courage to follow through with the task. The closeness was overwhelming, and his touch made it even harder to focus.

Sunghoon’s hand continued to explore my body, tracing along my back and the curve of my waist. Each touch was calculated, designed to heighten my discomfort and make the situation more intense. I could feel his fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin of my upper thigh, and it made me shiver involuntarily.

Despite my best efforts, I was inexperienced and unsure, and I could tell by the way Sunghoon’s eyes gleamed that he was thoroughly enjoying my struggle. I tried to apply pressure with my lips, but it came out more hesitant than confident. The feeling of his skin beneath my lips was foreign and unsettling.

When I finally pulled back, my face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Sunghoon’s expression was a mix of amusement and mockery. He traced a finger lightly over the spot where I’d tried to leave a mark, his touch a lingering reminder of my inexperience.

“Not bad,” he said with a smirk. “Though I have to admit, it’s more like a soft nibble than a bite. You’re a bit too gentle.”

I glared at him, my pride wounded by his taunting. The way he compared my attempt to a bite only deepened my humiliation. I tried to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks and the ache of frustration that was slowly taking over my emotions.

Sunghoon's smirk never faded as he observed my flushed face. His eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something darker, something that made my pulse race. Before I could react, he slid his hand down to grab my ass, pulling me closer against him. The sudden move made me gasp, my breath catching in my throat.

"Let me show you how it should be done," he whispered, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge. Before I could react, he pulled me closer, his other hand slipping into my hair and tugging my head to the side, exposing the delicate skin of my neck.

I barely had time to process what was happening before I felt his lips against my skin. The sensation was electric, his mouth hot and insistent as he latched onto my neck with a hunger that made my breath catch. His teeth grazed my skin, and the sharpness of it made my body tense, every nerves.

A low, involuntary moan escaped my lips as his grip tightened on my ass, pulling me flush against him. The way his body pressed against mine, the heat radiating from him, was overwhelming. My mind screamed at me to pull away, to resist, but my body betrayed me, responding to his touch with a confusing mix of fear and arousal.

He sucked harder, his tongue swirling against my skin, leaving behind a mark that I knew would be impossible to hide. The intensity of it sent a wave of heat pooling in my stomach, and I hated how much it was affecting me. Every touch, every movement of his lips against my neck, seemed to ignite something deep within me that I hadn’t known existed.

When he finally pulled back, I was left breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. Sunghoon’s eyes were dark, filled with a dangerous satisfaction as he surveyed the mark he had left on me. His thumb brushed over the spot, and I shivered at the lingering sensation.

"See? That’s how you leave a mark," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You can’t just be gentle with everything. Sometimes, you have to take what you want."

I tried to mask my reaction, but the throbbing pulse in my neck and the ache in my core made it impossible to hide how his touch had affected me. I hated that he had turned me on, hated that my body had responded to him in a way that made me feel weak and vulnerable.

But most of all, I hated that he knew it. The triumphant gleam in his eyes told me that he had noticed every shiver, every gasp, and it only fueled his arrogance.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened slightly as he pulled back, his lips leaving a lingering warmth on my neck. He looked at me with a mix of satisfaction and something else I couldn't quite place.

“Well, that’s enough for tonight,” he said, his voice suddenly shifting to a more neutral tone. “I’m not going to push you further.”

His unexpected decision left me with a strange mixture of relief and frustration. I tried to steady my breathing, my cheeks still flushed from his touch. Despite the torment and the way my body had betrayed me, I snapped back, trying to salvage some shred of dignity.

“Why did you even need to do all this?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly. “Why did you have to—”

Sunghoon cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was just having some fun. Besides, you made it pretty easy.” He paused, his smirk returning. “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride back.”

Sunghoon drove me back in silence, the atmosphere between us thick with unspoken tension.

When we finally arrived at the dorm, Sunghoon parked the car and got out, walking around to open my door. I stepped out, feeling the cool night air on my skin. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my rear with a smirk.

"You know," he said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing, "you have a pretty nice ass I will give you at least that."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt a surge of humiliation and anger, my cheeks burning as I tried to compose myself. I managed to muster a glare at him, but my eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

Sunghoon’s smirk widened as he got back into his car. “Looking forward to us meeting again, Y/n.”

As the car pulled away, I stood there, feeling a mixture of relief and heartache. I fought back the tears that were now streaming down my face, the raw emotion bubbling up from within. The frustration I felt wasn’t just from the night’s events but from how deeply it had affected me.

It wasn’t just the emotional turmoil that left me in despair; my underwear was uncomfortably wet, a reminder of how Sunghoon's actions had affected me in ways I deeply resented. The realization of how much he had gotten under my skin only added to my sense of humiliation and frustration.

The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, reflecting the tears that continued to fall from my eyes. It was in that moment, that I came to a clear and undeniable conclusion.

I hated him.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[digitaldiarystuff]

Unexpected

omg i can’t believe ruben won the poll with like one vote! thank you so much everyone who voted and this is the story you’ve been waiting for, this is more like a prologue and make sure to give any opinions about the story to help me carry on💖

————

pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N

summary: falling for your best friend is a bad idea, everyone knows that but what if it’s too late?

genre: again, a bit of everything

————

This is a story of two best friends.

Ruben was your best friend in the world, he was the one you turned to whenever things went south and he did the same. He listened to your daily rants about from people on the streets to your secrets, your relationship was perfect. You even got a job at Manchester and took the offer just to be closer to him and he was so grateful about your sacrifice.

So when did it become complicated? 6 months ago you were just dumped by the guy you were seeing and were fed up about not finding the one. Ruben, being the best friend he is, drove to you after his game and gave you his opinion on the topic.

“I think you’re too high maintenance.” he said whilst stealing a spoonful of ice cream from your part. He was extremely careful with his diet but this was after a match so he didn’t care.

“Hey!” you said both for stealing your snack and saying you’re high maintenance. “I’m not” you said offended but he just laughed.

“No okay I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you have your standards and you get frustrated when they aren’t met.” he shrugged, if this was any other day, you’d think about this but tonight you were in defence mode.

“You’re one to talk, you can’t even find someone to have 2 consecutive dates for months because ‘oh Y/N I don’t know, she’s nice but…’

Now it was his turn to get offended.

“I need someone who can handle my lifestyle. It’s not easy, you know.”

You didn’t know how this conversation turned into you being laid down on your back in his bed taking him while he whispered in your ear how good you were. This was the first time it happened, something that you feared would change your relationship permanently. You couldn’t even blame this on alcohol as Ruben hardly drank, it was just your instincts and needs. Things became awkward immediately and you didn’t know how to approach it. After a few days with no contact, you decided it was stupid and childish to avoid each other and called him.

He came over to your place to talk and you had agreed about this being a one time thing because if it escalated, it’d put you in a hard position. It was actually Ruben who said it and you couldn’t say no because it was the truth. Two best friends hooking up was not the smart thing to do.

However, your infatuation with your best friend didn’t stop there. In fact, it only grew stronger because now you paid attention to his every move and blushed when he held you. You tried to be strong but one night out with the girls made you crawl back to Ruben, you called him after the night slowed down and asked him to pick you up. You normally wouldn’t knowing his early practice sessions but you couldn’t help it and once you walked in his house you threw yourself at him. You actually weren’t black out drunk but decided to go for it anyway because if he pushed you away you could blame it on the alcohol but he didn’t push you or yell at you. He kissed you back immediately holding your waist and telling you to jump. You had your second mind blowing sex that night.

It continued like this for a while, you thought it’d just be sexual and maybe it could’ve worked. Casual sex as best friends with benefits but it had to feel normal, you were spending even more time together now and most of it was just hanging out and doing things you enjoy, nothing too crazy or romantic but one thing that changed was you cuddled which was one of the first times ever. Before this, you only cuddled when the other needed extreme support but now you were all over each other at any given minute. At least that’s what it was like up until Ruben left the country for a camp for a whole month. You kept in touch but it wasn’t all day every day and you just figured he was busy.

You were currently getting ready for one of your friends wedding and this was also the first time you were going to see Ruben after a long while. As you were touching up your make-up your best friend Elena came in.

“Hey” she said trying to be calming but she had on a weird look.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Heyy, are you Ruben’s plus one for the night?”

“What? No, I’m not, why?”

“Well, the planner just said there was a plus one in his invitation and I thought you’d get your own invitation but just wanted to double check.” she said nonchalantly but you froze for a moment before replying.

“Um, it’s not me. Maybe he’s bringing a friend.” you said confused about it but Elena was too occupied in herself to notice.

“You didn’t talk?”

“Nope, he’s been at a camp for a month.”

“Oh yeah” she said and went on talking about his relationship drama but you lost focus quickly.

Your confusion soon turned to shock when you finally saw who was Ruben’s plus one. It was Angela.

Angela was Ruben’s ex and she was a gorgeous girl, she was quite nice actually and she never had any problems with your closeness with Ruben which is all you can ask for your best friend’s girlfriend. At least it was until you hooked up with him. Now you didn’t know how you should feel although there was a little sting at your heart.

Your mind was racing with thoughts, this means that they’re back. Does she know, why hadn’t he said anything, how were you supposed to react? All this time you thought this was as innocent as it can get, just two best friends helping each other out but right now, you were questioning your feelings towards Ruben for the first time. You felt your stomach turn at the thought of him with Angela, but you quickly told yourself this was wrong. It was probably because the sex was out of this world and nothing else, it was just a stupid phase people go through and come out the other end stronger. Ruben was happy with Angela and apparently they found their way back to each other. As a best friend you should be happy about it and forget the newly found emptiness in your chest. This meant you had to step back immediately to let him be with the woman he actually loved. This was the right thing to do for both your sakes.

You realized you were stood there watching them for a while and decided to sneak out before they see you but just as you were turning around Ruben’s gaze found yours and every positive affirmation you gave yourself about not caring went out the window.

[dollmaidcrystal]

During a period when Mistress was too focused on work to play with her submissives, I became too tight for her to comfortably fit two fingers into. As punishment, I've been assigned to train on the Motorbunny Buck, Mistress's fucking machine of choice, daily for a month.

Day 1: Is this supposed to be a punishment? This doesn't seem like a punishment at all.

Day 2: I'm already tired of having to run an extra load on the dishwasher every day, since it has the all-important "Sanitize" cycle for cleaning up the Motorbunny attachments.

Day 3: Daily training is starting to pay off. That last session felt good. Really good.

Day 4: Riding the fucking machine is not the punishment, it's having to clean up afterwards every day. I asked Mistress if I could have permission to move the Motorbunny to next to the guest showers. (She said no.)

Day 5: Barely avoided disaster today. I forgot to lock up the door to the dungeon when the municipal water inspector came by to look around the basement. Fortunately, I spotted my mistake while he was still taking his boots off upstairs.

Day 6: Skip day. Mistress was home from work, and she called "dibs".

Day 7: Experimented more with the higher vibration settings today and probably overdid it. I’m going to have to take it easy for the next few days while my poor sissy booty heals.

Day 8: Switched from the spiral dildo to the precision probe. Today's training consists of trying to find exactly where all of my spots are.

Day 9: Skip day. I had a doctor's appointment. Real life takes priority!

Day 10: To make up for skipping a day, I switched to the larger Doc Johnson attachment. It was too large to ride, so I had to use the vertical wedge stand to be taken from behind. Taking something that large felt sooo good.

Day 11: Oh crap. While moving the Motorbunny back upright, I heard a crack. The plastic casing of the adapter plug cracked in half. I jury rigged back together (with some scary sparks!), but that is going to be a problem.

Day 12: A warranty replacement for the adapter is already on its way. I am more impressed by the customer service than how good I felt after today's session.

Day 13: Skip day. Mistress came home from work early because she was feeling sick. My time was spent taking care of her and lecturing her about the importance of diet and daily exercise. Writing this down in my punishment journal, I'm glad she was too sick to notice the irony.

Day 14: After some experimentation, the Motorbunny hits my spots best if I’m leaning all the way forward or arching backwards. I'm pretty sure I should stick to arching back in photosets.

Day 15: Mistress is still sick, which makes these daily training sessions extra hard. When she's healthy, I know that riding the fucking machine is a warmup for being played with later, but now I know it's going to leave me extra frustrated for the rest of the day.

Day 16: I’m starting to crave something in my mouth during these daily rides. I’m not sure how to deal with that. Maybe I should bring a box of Triscuits to the dungeon tomorrow? Will that work?

Day 17: Bringing a ball gag down to the dungeon definitely helps with my oral cravings, but I feel kind of silly doing it. It doesn’t help that 🐶 is staring at me like he’s judging my technique at chewing a ball. "Bloody amateur can't even keep in in her mouth without a safety strap."

Day 18: Mistress had some time to personally supervise my training today. The splash image on this post comes from this session.

Day 19: The warranty replacement adapter just arrived! I think I'll leave the broken one in place and keep the new one as a backup. I said it once, and I'll say it again: I am seriously impressed by the level of customer service Motorbunny has.

Day 20: Pondering upgrades to the Motorbunny using the Bondage Erector Set. Reflective Desires has so many ideas that I want to steal.

Day 21: The cursed LureVibe fucking bear is now making the rounds. I wonder if I should upgrade from Motorbunny to Motorbear. https://lurevibe.com/products/doll-automatic-thrusting-vibrating-swing-machine-female-masturbation-device

Day 22: Mistress is upset that most of the pictures she took makes me look hunchbacked. I need to find a way to ride the Motorbunny that's more photogenic, apparently.

Day 23: Gross! I accidentally put another layer of condom and lube on the attachment and didn’t peel it off before washing. Now I have a layer of cooked on dry lube to scrub off my dildo.

Day 24: I can't figure out how to advance my training. Mistress wants me to train to be penetrated at a wider variety of angles (instead of the one that feels really, really good but looks awful on camera). What even is the best to train for that? Wiggle around on the dildo every day?

Day 25: Following a friend’s advice, I’m trying yoga on the Motorbunny to improve my range of positions. This is a weird experience, and not just because of how hard it is to hold a stretch while being fucked.

Day 26: Skip day. After Pride Weekend, I can't move.

Day 27: Flexibility training continues. I’ve learned I’m not going to be able to move which spots feel good, but I can move the rest of my body. Biggest bang for my buck seems to be in getting more dramatic back arches, followed by working on my range of leg motion.

Day 28: Taking a break from trying to improve my form. Instead, I'm putting in the thickest attachment I can handle and enjoying the ride.

Day 29: I'm putting off today's training to edit and post this punishment journal. I'm hitting post now so I can get back to training.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Gabe/Stephen; largesse (pt II)

For the prompt: Gabe and Stephen being sappy at SOME point

Follows this.

Early on, Gabe worries he’s wrong about his 'Stephen loves holidays' thesis: Easter’s during Passover that year, and neither of them do anything for it, unless you count Stephen buying a few bags of mini eggs from the drug store when they go on clearance after, and Gabe doesn’t. At this point mini eggs are entirely secular — they’re not even a seasonal thing. Gabe saw a Christmas edition of them a few months back, though he’s not sure how eggs are supposed to be involved in Christmas. Maybe another gift for Santa? Cookies and milk aren't a very well-balanced diet, some eggs can't hurt.

But then Mother’s Day arrives, and while Gabe orders his mom flowers, Stephen leans over him, sighing about needing to get his mom something, but not flowers, because his mom doesn’t like flowers, she always makes things difficult, why can’t she just like what everyone else does. This is the third straight day of their annual tradition of brainstorming what to get Anouk — twice annual tradition, actually, it comes up on her birthday too, and probably at Christmas, now that Gabe’s thinking about it, it’s just that Stephen worries about what to get everyone for Christmas, with the exception of Gabe and his parents, and that’s just because he worries about what to get them for Hannukah instead.

And then Father’s Day comes around, and Stephen goes through the exact same process for getting Johan a gift. Then Beth’s birthday, and that Stephen pretends not to care about at all, but then gets her and Anna tickets to a Taylor Swift concert in Toronto that summer, and Gabe’s pretty sure securing those involved either a sizeable amount of time, money, or both.

Gabe’s not proud to say it takes until Johan’s birthday in October to really click into place. Obviously he’s had some suspicions, or he wouldn’t have been observing Stephen’s demeanour so closely, but honestly, he does that as a matter of course — it’s easier than listening to what Stephen says about how he’s feeling, which is usually not true. And that’s if he’s even willing to talk about it, which isn't likely.

Once again, Stephen’s bitching about how hard it is to buy things for his dad, who is, admittedly, not an easy man to find gifts for, and Gabe finally sees right all the way through Stephen's ‘why is gift giving so frequent, it’s absurd’ speech to the fact that it’s honestly not hard to find a gift for someone if you don’t give a shit whether they like it.

Stephen apparently gives so many shits. Innumerable shits. So Gabe figures he can help him out a bit. Do some research, attempt to make a list.

“I doubt most of them are up to snuff, because, you know, Johan,” Gabe says, waving a hand in a way he’s concerned to notice is an accidental but dead on impression of his mother, “But maybe one or two of them will work.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, looking up from the list.

“It’s nothing,” Gabe says. “Something to do on the road.”

“You printed it out,” Stephen says.

“Seemed easier,” Gabe says. “But I’ll email it to you as well.”

“And colour coordinated it,” Stephen says.

“It was a boring roadie,” Gabe says, though the end of it is kind of breathless, because Stephen’s crushing the air out of his lungs.

“Thank you,” Stephen mumbles, and Gabe brings a hand up to card through his hair.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

~

The packages start arriving two days later.

Gabe sighs, pushing aside two boxes with his foot so he can unlock the door, grabbing one under each arm to bring inside. One of them’s heavy for its size. Probably the knife set.

“Oh good,” Stephen says, looking up from his laptop as Gabe stacks the packages on top of all the other ones in the living room. “I was getting concerned that those weren’t coming.”

“Stephen,” Gabe says. “You can’t give your dad seventeen gifts for his birthday. He’ll just be disappointed every other year.”

And Gabe did say it was nothing, but that list took him two flights, three breakfasts, a dinner, and the recommendations of half the Canucks and most of the support staff, with dads receiving special consideration, to make.

“I can, however, not have to worry about what to get him for the next five years,” Stephen says gleefully.

Gabe sees trouble coming.

“I’m not making a list for everyone,” Gabe says.

“Gabe,” Stephen whines.

“No way,” Gabe says, taking this as a cue to retreat. “You’re on your own.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, closing his laptop to trail him out of living room. “Please?”

~

The Canucks, unfortunately, are much less helpful when it comes to what to get middle-aged women. Gabe is disappointed but unsurprised.

“You lose a bet, Marksy?” Coach asks when Gabe brings the question to him. He’s married to one, which likely gives him an edge over the Canucks, who Gabe's learned are all a bunch of terrible sons. Well, other than Bullet. The majority of the ideas he does have on this list are just him trying to keep up with Bullet’s stream-of-consciousness.

“Something like that,” Gabe says, and adds his suggestion for a shawl. Sure, it’s already on the list, but it’s never smart to piss off the guy who controls how many minutes you get.

"My wife likes candles too," Coach says. "The ones that smell up the place."

Stephen can't stand scented candles, and Gabe's almost positive he got that from his mom, but Gabe adds it to the list anyway. It'd serve Stephen right to get a faulty list, and maybe he won't be forced to make one for Beth and Anna if he does a purposefully bad job.

Gabe waits until Coach is long gone, and then he makes sure to scribble those ideas out. Sure, he'll probably remember, and Stephen would probably notice even if he didn't, but, well.

May as well get Anouk something nice.

[bomberqueen17]

deep in the obsession

ok so IDK how much I've talked about my Special Interest in the Bronze Age on here. At one point (like nanowrimo of 2003 or so) I was trying to write a novel set in the British Isles Bronze Age and I researched as much as I could and there just wasn't much information and I wrote some stuff anyway but it petered out. And ever since then I've kept checking back on various avenues of research and every time there's a new find I'd read as much as I could find about it. And then they discovered the remains of a pile-dwelling settlement in the Fens in England and they've finally just now published the results of that? Well of course I've been obsessively reading about it. (I had actually emailed the Cambridge Archaeology Unit a couple of months ago to ask where I could find the publications, so the timing was good.)

I mean the long and short of it is, they've got a site exposed by modern quarrying activity, which consists of five remaining buildings, which burned down and collapsed into the river channel with all their contents in the 9th century BC; the inhabitants escaped with very few of their possessions, and the rest of the assembly of the items they used in their daily lives are largely present, very well-preserved; whole sets of pots and woodworking tools, as well as textiles and textile-processing materials, foodstuffs, wooden tools, and enough building materials to almost entirely reconstruct their dwellings; a enormous wealth of information about their diets, their ways of living, even some feel for their aesthetic sensibilities. The circumstances of the buildings' collapse even means we know how they laid out their living spaces.

So I am going to infodump about what I've pulled out of these rather dense and dry reports (I have zero complaints, they're perfectly appropriately-written), so buckle up.

Firstly, if you want to read these yourself, the publications are open access PDFs hosted on the Cambridge Archaeology Unit's website here.

There are also a fantastic series of blog posts both from during the excavation and from during the initial analytical "post-ex" phase on the site's website, which I devoured while waiting for the final reports.

I admit I was first drawn to the whole thing, when I first saw stories about it, because of the mystery. It seems to have been a whole settlement, a village maybe, and it all burned down at once, and no humans seem to have died in it, but everyone left everything behind, even leaving a dog in one of the buildings, and some penned little lambs in a couple of them-- what caused this? Were they attacked? Were they forced out of it? It had a palisade around it as if for defense, did they build it because they were afraid, and rightfully so?? Why did they not come back to try to salvage anything? The water would have been shallow, surely they could at least get their axe-heads and things back.

But the thing that has sustained my interest now is that it appears to have been an unexceptional village after all. There's no evidence that these were elite people living here. There weren't any unambiguous weapons found-- part of a broken sword, in what was obviously a recycle bin (a wooden bucket), waiting along with some broken chisels and a bent axe and part of a broken bronze bucket for a trip back to the nearest metalworker. Some spears, but likely used for hunting, stored outside the houses all together leaned up against the palisade under an overhanging roof eave. Axes, but the sheer quantity of woodworking in the site means they were very obviously woodworking tools, and weapons only by technicality.

Other contemporaneous sites are preserved so incompletely that there are always "was this a place people dwelled or was it a ceremonial gathering place" kinds of questions. Artifacts are found either discarded in middens, broken, or deposited in hoards, "ceremonially?". But all this stuff is in-context, in the house, which burned down and collapsed straight down. This was the kitchen area, obviously; all the houses had most of their pots in the same approximate spot, caches of grain in the same area. This corner is where we find stuff they were working on-- one house has probably a loom, and tons of textile-related stuff scattered around it. (There's only evidence for a loom in one or maybe two of the buildings, but there are spindle whorls and bobbins of thread in three; several spinners providing one weaver, as is common throughout history.)

Some of the pots had been broken before the fire, and some of them had been partially discarded and partially kept, like for example a well-shaped broken bit of rim was being used as a scoop or something, while the little unusable shards had gotten chucked into the river where they threw their trash; the archaeologists could reunite fragments to prove this, and could derive the information that these shards would all be associated with the same house; they weren't shared, they were using the broken pot in the same house where they'd used it before it was broken; they seem to have cooked their meals separately, and kept separate inventory of basic household necessities. But the extra stuff seems to have been stored in the communal storage shed, so they could all get to it.

There's a large but incomplete sheet of bark that in places has a second sheet adhered to it with moss in between, which was likely bedding.

There are textiles, not just woven ones but also weft-twined ones made from lime bast cord-- mats, or hats, or capes. There's a knotted fishing net that was rolled up and in a pile with other things in an area that seems to have been a storage shed of sorts. (Near the "recycle bin" full of broken metal.) There's a collection of prepared fiber, ready to be made into cordage or spun into thread, and it's all prepared the same way in standard-sized bundles-- tantalizingly, regular enough as if for trade, stored in that storage shed next to a nested set of new pots-- like somebody had bought or made them and they weren't put to use yet, OR someone had made extra they intended to trade offsite for stuff they couldn't make themselves.

The whole sets of pots are broadly the same among households-- similar numbers of large vs. small, coarse vs. fine. They all resemble one another, though some are better-made than others-- as if several people made them, but under the guidance of one experienced worker.

Several pots and wooden containers have food residues. Hauntingly, there's a ceramic pot that was still half-full of porridge, with a wooden spatula/spoon still stuck in it. The porridge was made of ground wheat cooked in a liquid containing animal fats from a ruminant-- either sheep/goat or red deer-- possibly an early example of frumenty.

Enough of the structural timbers remain from the buildings, many with markings on them from where other structural elements were touching them and alternately exposed/protected them from fire so it is possible to reconstruct shapes and connections in more detail than if they were unburnt ruins, that the buildings can be nearly completely reconstructed, which is novel because most buildings of this era are known only from footprints/post holes. Almost no material survived from the walls, but because of these ghost "protection marks" it's possible to know that the walls existed, how wide they were, that they were attached in a particular spot, that they were made of a series of small uprights-- and to then surmise that some of the fragments of "wattle", woven panels, must have come from the walls in some cases. And it's possible to reconstruct the innovative, never-elsewhere-seen sprung floor system of bowed joists that kept the floors securely above the water below.

Anyway, I've devoured Vol I and am most of the way through scouring Vol II for interesting tidbits.

Yes of course I want to write a novel with this as the setting but I also am just completely fascinated.