#a symphony without strings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amaranthineghost · 2 days

Note

hi! could u write a fic where lando and the reader were fucking and lando takes his phone out halfway through (to take a photo for himself) but accidentally gets it posted on his instagram story and they only find out in the morning idk i just thought this would be funny af

OOPS? ( lando norris. )

lando norris x reader

to commemorate the sight in front of him, he snaps a picture on his phone without realizing he's just posted it for millions to see.

warnings: smut

authors note: I really liked writing this!!! it's a bit shorter than usual, but I enjoyed it a lot so thanks anon!!! <333

HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW HE DID IT. maybe he was just in the haze of sex, buried deep in her cunt with her leg over his shoulder, her other around his lower back pulling him in further.

he was hovering over her, hand pressed against her mouth as strings of muffled moans spilled from her lips, warm tears against his skin. god, she looked so good, too good. he just wanted to remember how fucked out her expression was.

leaning over to the nightstand, slowing his thrusts ever so much as he clutched his phone, flash on to compensate for the darkness of the bedroom. he snapped the photo, throwing the phone to the side, face side up.

he turned his focus back to the messy masterpiece in front of him, returning to the pace he had set before.

he pulled his hand away from her mouth to hear her symphony of moans, music to his ears. his hand took its place on her neck.

lando norris has posted to his story

he was so lost in the moment, he should've realized sooner the mistake he made. he should've realized at the instant texts that lit up his screen because who would be texting him this late?

all he did was flip over the phone, ignoring whatever notified him as he pulled her leg off his shoulder, pushed her leg down from his back. he fell beside her, prompting her to crawl across him, straddling him weakly as his hands settled on her hips.

fuck, she looked so good from this angle. hair messy from the pillows, face red from the tears down her cheeks, but also flushed from how hard he fucked her. he had already coaxed one orgasm ouf of her.

she sank down on his cock, causing him to curse under his breath with praise, “fuck, such a good girl.” his hands clawed into the flesh of her hips, guiding her pace once he saw her struggle.

the view was immaculate, he could've came at the sight of her tits bouncing up and down as she slid on his cock alone. it was salivating.

his hands left her hips to grasp her breasts, and he couldn't care if her pace faltered because everything felt too good in the moment.

if only they knew.

he planted his feet firmly against the bed, grasping her sides again as he lifted his hips to meet her halfway. it was rough, causing her to steady herself with her hands against his chest as he thrusted up and forced her hips down. his cock buried deep in her brought her over the edge so easily as tears fell from her face onto the bare skin of his chest.

she collapsed against his chest as his cock sank into her, feeling the warmth of his seed inside her cunt. she groaned against his chest as his arm spread across her bare back and pressed a kiss to her hair. the tears from her face wet his skin.

“did so good, baby,” he cooed, running fingers across her flesh as she hummed into his chest.

they laid together for a while before going and cleaning up. since it was already late in the night, they got back into bed and fell asleep.

when lando awoke the next morning, his phone was nearly dead and hundreds of texts and missed calls from his friends was the cause. hot to the touch, he carefully held his phone, brows furrowed as he laid on his side, back to his girlfriend, who was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed.

first, he opened the texts from his friend, max, who’s messages were in all caps. his eyes widened at the content, squinting at the screen in disbelief. no way he was that stupid, no the photo he took was in his camera roll—no it wasn't.

he discovered that, unfortunately, the photo he had taken was posted to his Instagram story, and it hadn't been taken down.

if it weren't for the circumstances, he could've stared at the photo all day because it was truly that good, but first he had to get rid of the post—and get the photo into his camera roll.

he nearly jumped out of his skin when she stirred in her sleep, now right against his back with her cheek pressed to his bare skin.

“morning,” she groaned and he mumbled back. she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, squinting to see what was on his phone screen, “why’re you on your phone so early?”

“i'm sorry.” he gulped, turning his head to watch the expression knot on her face, mostly confusion.

she sat up, leaning on her arm as she practically hovered over him, “lando, what did you do?”

“i’m so sorry,” was all he could say.

“lando,” she paused, an underlying tone of irritation laced in her voice as she emphasized her words, “what did you do?”

he glanced back at his phone, not even trying to hide the guilty expression written all over his face. she snatched the phone from his hand, and he didn't stop her. he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes before leaving them to cover the lower half of his face as he watched her face.

“what the fuck?” she shoved his shoulder.

“i didn't mean to!” he sat up, throwing his hands up before running them through his messy curls, “i don't know how i did it.”

“oh my god,”she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she hunched over the phone, “i’m deleting it.”

“wait–” his hand touched hers, he bit his lip, “at least save it to my photos–ow!”

she hit the backside of his head at the idiocy of his words. she exhaled deeply, anger taking over her body. of course, he didn't care as much as she did. he wasn't in the photo at all to begin with and this wouldn't affect his career as deeply as it would affect hers.

“why? so you can post it somewhere else? text it to your friends?” she raised her voice, groaning out in frustration.

“baby, calm down–” he tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.

“how can i calm down, lando?” she threw his phone down on the bedding, falling back down onto the bed with her hands covering her face in shame. now that picture is all everyone will ever see her as, all thanks to her idiot of a boyfriend.

he grabbed his phone back, seeing the photo had been taken down from his story, but they both knew that image would be circling the internet for a long time.

“at least the photo didn't show anything,” he tried to make light of the situation, but it was to no avail as she spat back with venom in her tone.

“you don't even care about the photo because you aren't the one in it, lando.” she scoffed.

“i’m sorry, okay?” he turned to her, “i really didn't mean to, you know i would never do that.”

she sighed, “i know, but i’m still mad, lan.”

“i know, darling,” he laid beside her on his side, looking at her side profile as she stared at the ceiling, “you have every right to be mad.”

she stayed silent, and he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.

he gulped again, speaking up, “and i promise to never take a photo of you when we're fucking ever again.”

a laugh forced it's way past her lips, “oh, please we both know you'll try and fail,” she said with a smile on her lips, shaking her head.

“okay, yeah, but i promise i’ll triple check it's not in any social media post,” he flipped over onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows with his pinky held out. she took it and the promise was made. the situation dealt with, for the most part.

“did you happen to save the photo though–ow, okay!”

—

taglist (found here): @poppyflower-22 @sapphiccloud @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

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arminsumi · 7 months

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First request ever: Can you make a story about Gojo, where their both in a relationship but gojo had to end it because he was afraid that she would be in danger?

Thank you! Keep up the good work, I love your stories!!!

LET ME MARRY YOU

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

Note : istg each time i edited this... the wordcount grew lol. i hope u enjoyyy 🥹💗 tysm for enjoying my work it means everything

Warnings : angst -> fluff (?) -> happy ending trust me, Shibuya arc spoilers (Ep 9), manga spoilers (chapter 221)

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

The risk of dating you is thrilling when Satoru's just a teenager in puppy love. But as he grows older, and heads into those dreaded 20s, the risk makes him more and more nervous.

What if something happens to you?

He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead and feels his chest tremble, feels his lips quiver, as he refrains from telling you the truth about the Jujutsu world. Satoru just can't do it.

There are so many instances of him saving you from curses that you're oblivious about. He just smiles strangely, and you wonder why he looks like he's just seen a ghost. Because he has, those pretty eyes see ghosts. But those pretty eyes also see you, "What am I looking at?" he responds after you ask why he's looking at you so tenderly, "I'm looking at my future wife." he flirts just to fluster you.

That's at the cafe, when things are still simple. He keeps thinking to himself, as he lays with you in bed some nights;

I want to marry you.

I'm going to marry you.

Please let me be your husband one day.

As if he's trying to manifest it.

Everything is okay-ish... until he gets pangs of fright when your name starts to be known outside of his closed circle of friends.

It's October 11th.

Gojo Satoru breaks up with you.

He leads you to believe that the two of you are just "right person, wrong time". It all hurts an incomprehensible amount for him, to finally cut the string that tethers the two of you together.

He sits on the stairs, head in his hands, mourning.

He starts many mornings with crying spells that last until midday.

He destroys evidence of you and him. In case anyone ever finds it and thus finds your apartment, or work, or college... or anything.

But he can't part with a very special photo. It's you and him in Okinawa, sharing a cheesy kiss at the beach. In the moment this photo was captured, Gojo remembers having whispered some dirty joke in your ear and that's why you smiled so big into his kiss.

He drifts to sleep to the lullaby lovesongs that defined your love.

Years pass, he refuses to even talk to you. The heartbreak worsens with time, he laughs when he realizes that on his 27th birthday.

Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? Someone said that to him once. Well, they must have been lying without realizing it.

The day Gojo Satoru is sealed, he looks into Suguru's eyes, and remembers you through them. When he resides in that awful prison realm, he only thinks of you you you you you you you oh god he misses you so much that it feels like the very thought of your smile stabs his chest. Every memory is painful. Every flashback puts one more crack in his heart.

"Can't I ever catch a break...?" He laughs to himself, chattering skeletons making their eerie symphony around him.

He thinks. Ponders. Wonders. Broods. Daydreams. All about you. Always about you. Never anything else. Just his first love, from the late spring of his 17th year.

His earthly goddess.

The purpose of his benevolent actions.

He cries. And sobs. And weeps. Because no one can hear him but the skeletons and he's sure they don't mind the sight or sound of a 27 man howling in pain over a lost lover.

It's not just your relationship that he's mourning. But the fact he can't feel you in this cube... that he can't feel your presence in the world... that's worse than the heartbreak. At least through all these years, he's been able to sense your existence. Feel the subtle ripples of your soul no matter how distant you are; you'd be stood in a coffee shop, he'd be at Jujutsu High teaching, and yet feeling you.

Because as he promised to you at 17, "Half my soul is yours. And half your soul is mine. I'll always be with you even if I'm not there."

He has the biggest breakdown of his life in that little cramped suffocating claustrophobic eerie creepy box.

It's 19 days later. He's out. He's back in the world. And he feels the sense of you, your existence, swelling in his chest, tickling his mind, prodding his heart.

"Gojo sensei, where are you headed?"

"I'm gonna go find my other half." he says cryptically.

It's a stark bright day.

Gojo Satoru knocks at your apartment door.

You open it.

He looks at you, and you look at him.

"Hi."

"...hey...? Wow. Haha... you grew into your features, huh?"

Your voice fills his heart with life.

"You too... glad you still live in the same place... I was worried you might have moved out..."

"... Ah, Satoru, you'd be able to find me no matter what corner of the world I resided in."

Your laugh fills his mind with pleasant memories.

There's an a magnetism between you and him just like there always used to be. It feels like two magnets connecting at last, after feeling the distant attraction throughout all these years of distance.

"You're right." Satoru says after a silence of just staring into your eyes.

"I'll always find my way home."

A silence ensues after he says this.

"...haha... don't cry... or I'll cry..."

"... Satoru... I thought of you every day after you left me at the station."

"... me too."

"... why did you leave?"

He stares at you.

"... I was scared of you being in danger."

He gulps.

"Me? In danger? But you're the strongest, why would it matter."

Oh god that's right. You said it then when you were 17, "You're the strongest" and he carried that title with him from then. And now you've said it again. He's reminded. He feels a bit stupid. A bit ridiculous. A bit...

"You're right..." he chokes up. "I am. I could have protected you I guess..."

"... yeah, duh."

He smiles meekly.

It was more complicated than that, sweetheart. But I won't tell you.

He hesitates. He contemplates.

"I have to tell you everything... will you promise to believe everything I say even if it sounds insane?"

"Of course. What is it?"

He inhales deeply. And instead of blurting out his whole life story of being a sorcerer in the Jujutsu world, he just leans in and kisses you hard and truthfully. Cups your cheeks. Closes his eyes. Tastes you like a sweet from his childhood that he hasn't had for years. Presses to you. Takes in your scent.

Yeah yeah... he'll tell you everything in a minute.

But for now just let him kiss you until he runs out of breath.

Let him just...

"Hey..." he pulls away, gasping, "Let me marry you."

"Haha, Satoru..." you take it as a joke and laugh, because it sounds as bizarre and unexpected as one. Then you realize there's that serious look on his face. "... Satoru?"

"Can I?"

"... what?"

"Can I please?"

"... huh??"

"Can I marry you, please?"

He looks at you and waits for your answer. His poor heart. It's palpitating. His whole chest cavity inspires with love for you. This man that you haven't seen in years has just asked if you'll let him marry you — with very specific wording.

Can he? Will you let him?

It's funny in a way, because you think to yourself; this is such a Satoru thing to do... show up unannounced years later on your doorstep and ask for your hand in marriage as if no time has passed, as if you know the full story.

"Satoru... what happened to you throughout these years for you to come back to me and ask for my hand in marriage?" you ask, genuinely baffled.

He swallows slowly. "I know I sound like I've lost my mind. But I promise I haven't."

"That's hard to believe. The Satoru I remember was always on the brink of mania. A bit insane but not quite."

You make him laugh. "Yeah..."

"So are you asking to marry me out of insanity?"

"No."

"Well alright then. I guess I'll marry you."

You make him laugh again, with that funny tone. He hasn't laughed genuinely in years... it's always been that plastic laugh. But this is his genuine laugh. Silky and quiet. The opposite of his demeanor.

"I guess I should be explaining everything to you properly... before I ask you something like that."

"You're damn right..."

"... don't scold me too hard when I tell you all the reasons I left. Or, if you do, then at least hold me while you scold me. And run your fingers through my hair like you used to."

"Satoru."

"Yes?"

His heart throbs. He looks at you.

"Stop standing at the doorway and come inside."

"Oh."

You sigh. He smiles. Then he bows his head so it doesn't hit the top of the doorframe. Damn tiny Tokyo apartments. Your archway always had it out for the crown of his head. You laugh when he bumps into it just like he always used to.

So the two of you sit down and just talk. And talk. Maybe cry a bit. Actually, you cry a lot. And he holds you. And he says he's sorry. He says sorry over and over, as if the word is a bandage he's trying to wrap around all your heartbreak wounds that he caused.

"I'm sorry."

Satoru's apologies aren't easy to come by, and when you receive them, they nurse your heart. It's the gentleness with which he says it, and earnest too. Each successive sorry means more than the last.

"My angel..."

When you call him this after he vents to you about his time in the Prison Realm, and his overwhelming duty of being the strongest, he breaks down completely and just weeps in your arms.

He sobs like you've never heard him sob before, like a dog.

Finally. At least for a moment. He could be weak. Let down his guard. Be raw. Be emotional. Not a teacher. Not a sorcerer. Just your boy. Your Satoru.

Your consolation is all he wanted throughout these years. He looks up at you, eyes red and sore, nose sniffling, and stares at you like he can see your soul.

"...Satoru?"

"Marry me."

You chuckle again.

"If that will stop your tears..." you joke.

He sniffles loudly and swallows, composing himself.

"I thought about marrying you so much when we were together... 'n I tried so hard to bite my tongue when your name nearly rolled off it while talking to my students some days. I was always..."

On the verge of saying your name.

He sniffles long and hard and waits for your hand to weave into his hair.

"Will you think about it?"

"I will."

There's a silence. Satoru feels hopeful. He lays on your chest, arms around you like you're his whole world that he won't dare let go of again.

"There." you say with finality. "I thought about it. Let's get married."

"That took you, like, ten seconds."

You laugh with him. "Yeah... I already knew in my heart when you asked me at the doorway... you know... Satoru... it's funny. When you left, it felt like half my soul was gone. And when you knocked on my doorstep, it felt like I was whole again. Does that sound freaky, or does it tie into all this... Juju... Jujutsu stuff?"

He's silent.

"I have no idea."

"Wow. My future husband isn't knowledgeable at all." you joke.

His heart flutters at 'future husband'.

"Sorry." he says, smiling softly, "My mind is blank when your fingers are running through my hair."

The two of you go on and on, until you're laid in bed sleeping at each other's side. Resting. And god, did Gojo Satoru need a good rest.

In your arms, he's no longer an insomniac.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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quotesfrommyreading · 1 year

Text

In his 1956 book The Marlinspike Sailor, marine illustrator Hervey Garrett Smith wrote that rope is “probably the most remarkable product known to mankind.” On its own, a stray thread cannot accomplish much. But when several fibers are twisted into yarn, and yarn into strands, and strands into string or rope, a once feeble thing becomes both strong and flexible—a hybrid material of limitless possibility. A string can cut, choke, and trip; it can also link, bandage, and reel. String makes it possible to sew, to shoot an arrow, to strum a chord. It’s difficult to think of an aspect of human culture that is not laced through with some form of string or rope; it has helped us develop shelter, clothing, agriculture, weaponry, art, mathematics, and oral hygiene. Without string, our ancestors could not have domesticated horses and cattle or efficiently plowed the earth to grow crops. If not for rope, the great stone monuments of the world—Stonehenge, the Pyramids at Giza, the moai of Easter Island—would still be recumbent. In a fiberless world, the age of naval exploration would never have happened; early light bulbs would have lacked suitable filaments; the pendulum would never have inspired advances in physics and timekeeping; and there would be no Golden Gate Bridge, no tennis shoes, no Beethoven’s fifth symphony.

“Everybody knows about fire and the wheel, but string is one of the most powerful tools and really the most overlooked,” says Saskia Wolsak, an ethnobotanist at the University of British Columbia who recently began a PhD on the cultural history of string. “It’s relatively invisible until you start looking for it. Then you see it everywhere.”

— The Long, Knotty, World-Spanning Story of String

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nouvxllev · 4 months

Text

closed-door policy

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: There was a silent agreement seemed to form, a 'closed door policy' as Wednesday described when you brought it up abruptly. In the crowd, there were stolen glances, fleeting touches, and moments that hinted at something more. Nights were the hardest. You find yourself begging and succumbing to Wednesday's words, her touches, her glances, her kisses. But you knew the barrier; the barrier between friendship and lovers. You knew the both of you were far from it.

Words: 3k

Warnings: mentions of blood, near-death experience, intoxication/alcohol/drugs, angst, damn sexual tension, fwb typa story

a/n: first story to start off the year, happy new year everyone!! but this probably isn't the ideal story you'd read for the start of the year

part 2 || masterlist.

You sat there, silent. The first thing you heard was the rapid beating of your heart, the relentless ringing that could only be assumed as background noise. Not once in your life did you feel glad you heard the sound of your own body. The world drafted into something of a void, your vision impaired and your head became a haze. Accidentally intoxicating and cutting yourself. What a lame way to die.

You stared at your palm for a while.

Holy shit, this isn't yours.

The hand trembling before you was, of course, yours, yet the grazed and dried blood etched across your palm, racing through the cracks of our flesh, the sweat, rain from above, and blood seeping into another will never be.

You've always wanted to do something where you'd say your last words before you eventually meet the strangle of death to someone close to you. Or maybe someone who's in near-vicinity of you.

With the little willpower you had, you reached into the back pocket, pulling out a battered phone. With a deep breath caught in your throat, you dialed a number.

You called someone, atleast, someone who you think gives a single shit about your well-being before the world turns black. Someone you loved.

"Willa?" you choked, a strange wince in your voice.

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

You knew Wednesday wasn't one when it came to technology, actually, she's far from the target audience. Chances of her answering a phone call were slim, even if she were now owning a phone this semester. If not in a wild murder chase, fencing, or the bee-keeping club, she spent every waking moment at her workspace, the phone either tucked into the slit of her pockets or lying close by. DND, silent, volume low, nothing. You were risking your last breath for a voicemail that will never reach her.

But you were thankful she answered anyway.

The last breath you take is almost as important as the last sound you hear. A recollection, you'd say, if anyone tried to question. You had that in mind when you pressed her number, wondering if she'd answer anyway. She gave you exactly 2 seconds before she answered, only 4 seconds away for her to call out your name, and your world to close.

You'd like to think in the last few moments, Wednesday was playing her cello. You couldn't hear it, given the fact how far you were from Nevermore. But it was the same symphony you memorized in your head, the same symphony that you once hated with a passion when you first roomed with Wednesday—the perfect chords she'd play, the constant flipping of notes from her appendage, the graze of her bow against the strings, how you could see the intensity in her focused eyes as you closed yours. Back then, you despised every aspect of it, how you were always awake when she played the cello when you wanted to go to sleep. Now it became something you were humming in your head, hoping it'd keep you alive like how it always kept you awake when you wanted to sleep.

Wednesday had a change of heart when she saw your caller ID. Without a second thought, she abandoned everything down to her writing time and cello to rush through the door in the dead of night. Rain poured outside as if it was the purge in the skies, but she didn't bother changing into something decent. She needed to find you, she needed to find you in a condition that wouldn't keep her up at night. The thought of you, possibly lying half dead consumed every inch of her, leading her to spring through the woods under the haunting moonlit sky. Or, that's what you would like to believe.

There she found you near a tree, your legs splayed and your head hanging heavily over your shoulders. The phone in your grasp was slipping away as your body succumbed to giving out, the dim light of the flickering screen casted on your face before it powered off. Blood stained your hands and head, and a slash that pierced through your shirt gave Wednesday the assumption you were stabbed by someone.

Finding a lifeless body had always held a fascination for Wednesday, The last moments of someone's life could only mean so much, and it meant everything to see someone die in their own flesh and bones as the glint in their eyes faded away for Wednesday, and it would only be better if she was the cause.

But finding in you in the state you were in, realizing that you were now someone dying in their own flesh and bones, left to rot abandoned in a forest by all, Wednesday could only pray to whatever fucked deity that led you into this fate to have mercy on you, hoping that your heart would still beat as she picked you up from death.

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

By the time your eyes started to open, you could only think you made yourself through the rings of hell, a pat on the back you gave to yourself. Before finding out you were back in Ophelia Hall, the dorm you and Wednesday both shared.

You couldn't remember anything. Just how you were sitting near a tree, humming a tune you wouldn't forget even if you died, not even thinking once how your blood got mixed with someone elses. All you do remember is attending a party in the middle of the woods and that's it.

A reckless, foolish, heedless rogue.

That's what you were.

Or atleast, in Wednesday's terms.

You're pretty good you could say to yourself.

The tree you had been near was replaced by the headboard of your bed where Wednesday and Thing were diligently tending to your wounds, with a particularly nasty slash that crossed your entire abdomen. It's a surprise how you weren't dead by now.

A groan escaped your lips as you sat on the bed, absorbing Wednesday's scolding about your 'idiotic recklessness that couldn't be detained even if the leash with great resiliency were to be in her hands.'

"Ugh, chill out Wends. I still have enough blood in me to last maybe a few years. Just let it pour out."

'You're pretty calm for someone who lost a ton of blood and is still bleeding by the minute.' The appendage on your lap signed as he lifted up the cloth that was bloodied red at this point.

Wednesday found herself back in your bed carrying a medkit and some supplies she hid under the table. More specifically just some torture tools she had in hopes of torturing someone this semester. "I should have left your lifeless body to rot."

You chuckled, "'Tis fine, not that deep anyways." You were preparing to lift yourself up to adjust yourself from the uncomfortable position you were in, considering that your head was hunched over than normal, but Wednesday's glare warned you against any movement. It's like wrong twitch, and she seemed ready to take away your ability to move altogether.

"Why didn't you carry me to the clinic?"

"The school clinic is closed for the night," Wednesday replied, opening the kit to pull out a pair of scissors, tweezers, and threads. "You should thank the spontaneous timing you have on death."

"Then why don't you call an ambulance?" You eyed how Wednesday fixed herself onto you, your line of sight following her gaze. Seeing how a single glare from her automatically made you think to lie down without being told to.

"Your soul would've passed by the time they've arrived."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "I thought you liked seeing people die. Change of heart?" But then that smirk eventually faded away and replaced with a wince when she pierced the clean part of your skin to thread the needle.

She shot you a withering look, then turned her attention back to cleaning and dressing the wound. She didn't answer immediately, what she was thinking was unreadable, even for you. "Foolish of you to mistake this for compassion. I'd rather not deal with the mess of explaining why there is one less head amongst us."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her matter-of-fact response. "Ah, the inconvenience of your roommate's dead body. I appreciate your utmost concern, Wednesday."

You want to believe you and Wednesday are on the best of terms. After all, she is tending to your wounds and giving a talk that isn't limited to one sentence. Or atleast that's what you want to believe. You knew above all else she'd go to lengths to manipulate someone to get what she wanted, so why let your guard down now.

But there was that thing. If letting your guard down is what it takes to be noticed by Wednesday Addams, you wanted to get manipulated by her. Even if it's one-sided.

You loved her.

"Why did you request my presence?" Wednesday started, her eyes still focused on the large cut you had.

"You mean call you?" You winced as she continued stitching, the throbbing pain from your chest coming back to haunt your nerves.

"Yes. Of course, call me."

"Dying's too easy Wends. One fucked up shit you do to your body you're—" You blew a raspberry, seemingly to mimic an explosion, a combustion of sorts. Which, of course, earned nothing from Wednesday. If you were sitting up, you'd see an unimpressed look on her face by now.

"I wanted to live for you, Willa. But even if I did die, atleast I spent the last moment calling you. Even in death, I couldn't escape the music of your cello."

"...I assume you are intoxicated up to this moment." She stitched up the last piece of skin and tightened it while wrapping your chest up with gauze.

'Did it not wear off?' Thing signed before Wednesday requested him to go fetch water and draw a bath.

Wednesday now regretted how she ignored you when you shared you'll be going to a party held up by the stoners. How it'll last up until midnight, and how she didn't tell you that it'll likely be some fraternity party that they just let anybody go, even if you weren't a part of it.

She thought you'd just be in there for a little while, considering how you weren't big on parties, you were just someone who wanted to join for a little bit and then eventually dip if things got worse. But she didn't expect this to be the outcome. By the look of your state, and how fucked up your mental state was judging how you talked, and how you often slurred your words, she could only assume someone either spiked your drinks with a shit ton of drugs or someone forced you to take some while being under the influence of alcohol then took you out into the woods for whatever reason.

Wednesday tucked her hand under your head and then pulled you into a sitting position, her dark eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unimpressed look on her face softened for a moment.

You took notice of how her eyes softened, or maybe it was just you and the drugs talking in your head, but there was definitely something. After a painful stitching process on your chest, she was now tending to your wounds on your skull area, not that much, but you knew your head was slightly bleeding and how you definitely got a blackeye, considering how closing your eyes burns like hell.

"Living requires more sacrifice than dying." Wednesday started, her voice being something that lifted the weight on your shoulders.

You chuckled weakly, the pain in your chest now drowned out. "Guess that's why it's so easy to do, and how some would like to." You studied her as she spoke, your voice seemingly getting quite as your gaze began to drift off somewhere else.

"How it brings me peace," You started, and even from here, or maybe just because you were under the influence, you could see Wednesday trembling. "How it erases my problems, how it erases me out of existence." You voice dwindled into a whisper, a breathy sigh left you.

"How death was the only way to get your undivided attention." Your eyes gaze over Wednesday's lips before going over to her eyes, to your surprise, she was leaned back, her usual stoic expression wavered and her jaw was clenched.

A flicker of something, maybe amusement, crossed Wednesday's features. "You have an uncanny way of getting what you want."

You chuckled weakly, the pain in your body forgotten and replaced with something burning inside you. "I just wanted your hands on me, Wends." Not something you'd say after going through a near-death experience, but it was partially true.

She met your gaze, her dark eyes meeting yours, who just wanted nothing but love. Her hand moved to gently cup your cheek, her thumb tracing a delicate pattern. "There are better ways to make me notice you." She murmured, a breathy voice you never heard from her before, her eyes searching yours for consent before her eyes flicker to your lips.

You closed the remaining distance. Your lips brushed against hers, a soft, lingering kiss you placed onto her soft ones. Wednesday responded, her lips parting slightly, deepening the kiss.

You could feel the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with yours. Her fingers traced a slow, tantalizing path down your neck, sliding her hands around you and pulling you closer, but careful enough she didn't bring back that agonizing pain in your chest.

Every touch, every moment, everything that made Wednesday her at this moment made your world fade away. The warmth of her body against yours sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel her hands gliding across your body while you sat there, letting her own you in every way possible with just one single kiss.

The taste of her was intoxicating, intoxicating enough that it just might bring back that feeling of numbness and ringing in your ears, the idea of luxury was something more, something like her lips onto yours. Your hands found their way to her waist, your fingers tracing the curves of her body as you deepened the kiss.

When the kiss finally broke off, you found yourself breathless and wanting more, hunger reflecting in your eyes. Wednesday's gaze lingered on yours, and never once did reality hit you more harder than you thought.

Holy fuck, you kissed Wednesday Addams.

If you weren't dead that time in the woods, you were certainly dead now.

"Oh God. Oh shit, Wednesday, I'm so—I'm so sorry. I'll just—actually, I'll just room with Enid and Yoko for the whole semester, okay? Okay!" Panic laced your words as you fumbled across the bed, "Good—fuck that hurts!"

You winced as you tried to get up, the pain shooting through your body. Wednesday's hand gently pressed against your shoulder, halting your attempts to escape. "Sit down, y/n" she commanded, her tone surprisingly gentle.

"Stay," she commanded, her voice low and steady. Damn were you a dog or something? There was a glint in her eyes, something you could only mistake as someone in love with you too. "Apologies are unnecessary."

You hesitated, caught between the urge to escape the situation and the magnetic pull of Wednesday's presence. "I just... I didn't mean to overstep, I—"

Wednesday silenced you with a lingering gaze. "I assure you, you are far from overstepping," she stated, her tone unwavering. "In fact, you have my attention. For the record, I do not want you rooming with Enid and Yoko."

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Everyone knew you as the unlucky girl to receive a dormmate like Wednesday Addams. Considering all the rumors going around, how she keeps secret arsenals in the fabric of her clothing, the maybe-not-so-empty-50/50-threats and her aura in general made everyone fear her.

But honestly, you found that utter bullshit.

That's why you couldn't help but laugh and send a nonchalant "It's fine" when people ask about your mental state rooming with Wednesday Addams, and how people crossed the hallway just to avoid passing by your room. Well, probably since all the rumors were true, and the fact that she was scary as fuck was definitely true.

"New rumor in town saying you've got a pet spider that guards the entrance of our room," you mentioned, entering the room after your club and classes ended, wanting nothing more than to see the goth girl that everyone feared.

Wednesday glanced up from her book, a dry tone leaving her lips. "Humoring. Unfortunately, I left my pet spider back at the Addams Estate."

Actually, back then, you were one of the people who were terrified of Wednesday Addams. The first time you entered your dorm when you transferred, you had a knife shot at you, slightly grazing the side of your neck. But every now and then, you found yourself warming up to her. Why? Even you didn't know. Something about her, something about her coming every late at night after a wild murder chase, something about her playing her goddamn cello and spending every living day on her typewriter, just something about her made you insane.

Wednesday's gaze held yours for a moment, the intensity of her dark eyes softening. "Maybe you're just not easily scared."

"Or maybe I've just had the pleasure of getting to know the real Wednesday Addams," you replied with a grin.

The weeks that followed the near-death experience you had held a strange tension between you and Wednesday. The both of you fell into a routine where the both of you would wake up, pretend nothing happened between the both of you, and go to classes, and when it ends, it'll be like a flick of a switch where you two would eventually find eachother in eachothers pants.

There was a silent agreement seemed to form, a 'closed door policy' as Wednesday described when you brought it up abruptly. In the crowd, there were stolen glances, fleeting touches, and moments that hinted at something more. Nights were the hardest. You find yourself begging and succumbing to Wednesday's words, her touches, her glances, her kisses. But you knew the barrier, the barrier between friendship and lovers. You knew the both of you were far from it.

But that was what you wanted, right?

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a/n: part 2 soon???

#wednesday addams x reader #wendesday addams x you #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #jenne ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega

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solieverse · 3 months

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"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.

your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.

how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.

the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.

he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.

it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.

more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.

#❂.txt #idk where to post this coz i dont wanna use main #but i really wanted to write it #him <3 <3 <3 #also i did not proofread this at all so sorry if it's too messy #dpr ian smut #christian yu smut #christian yu scenarios #dpr ian scenarios #christian yu x reader #dpr ian x reader

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gentlemean · 3 months

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I present to you: The Whitegull River Symphony.

A classical symphony in four movements, inspired by @thesiltverses! The most recent episode swept me away in a river of creative inspiration, and I couldn't help but follow this stream to whatever murky depths it wanted to take me.

Creative thoughts and details beneath the cut.

The Whitegull River Symphony is written in f-Minor for a full symphonic orchestra. My rendition was created in FLStudio, using Spitfire's BBC-Symphonic-Orchestra plugin, as I am just one mediocre violinist without an entire orchestra at hand.

First Movement: River Angels, Allegro Assai

The first movement is dominated by the steady rhythm of the celli and violae, who act as the slow waves of our murky river. Among these waves, the faithful have prepared a sacrifice. Their hopeful prayers flick aross the water in the first half of the movement, and are answered by the scutteling, chittering spawn of the river in the second half.

Second Movement: Pilgrimage of the Prophet, Adagio

In the second movement, we focus entirely on our favorite little prophet (whose brilliant performance inspired me to make this. The existence of this symphony is your fault, @sassylich). He marches on through the silt with slow steps, while the clarinet plays his theme. His little schemes behind the scenes are played by the string section, the obvious warning signs are announced by the horns. Nevertheless: In the end, everyone is playing his tune.

Third Movement: The Withermark, Andante

And here we go, the river's might is unleashed. The angels of the river god approach unstoppably, drawn here by the prophet: His clarinet is setting the tune for the overwhelming wrath of the trawlerman. Nothing can stand in its way, but after the tides have calmed, new life can grow in their wake.

Fourth Movement: Katabasis, Allegro Assai

Katabasis, the descent into the depths. Nothing escapes the greedy maw of the Trawlerman, nobody can float above, untouched. All the instruments we've hear so far return, desceding into the roiling depths of the bassline. This is not a comforting or hopeful ending, this is an apocalypse.

#the silt verses #the trawlerman #whitegull river #brother faulkner #richard faulkner #the silt verses fanart #tsv #tsv fanart #sister carpenter #mine

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rxzennia · 11 days

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thrice shall the bell toll

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 expands on 2.2 leaks, dark content towards the end, character death (everyone dies), heavy angst(?), not proofread. totally did not die a little inside when i wrote this, no. thank you all for 100+ followers! gold and gears, achievement grinding are driving me nuts and seeing everyone else get him makes me want to quit the game altogether. perhaps it’s time i focus more on other things.

“never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

the musicians begin to play with rigor as the symphony enters crescendo, building up to its climax as the orchestral music increases in intensity and irregularity. the choir sings, paving the way for the descent of an aeon, of justice; their harmony announcing the impending doom of the sinner, promising his demise, promising him eternal rest.

you arrive at the central plaza, just in time for the closing act.

you meet sunday’s eyes, the bastard head of the oak family, the mastermind conducting this cacophony of noises and disturbances. he has the gall to smirk, to flash you a smirk, as if he’s daring you to do anything.

“aventurine, ambassador of the interastral peace corporation.” sunday stalks around the man bound in shackles, like predator circling prey, hands behind his back as he looks down at him with contempt. “you are hereby found… guilty.”

the baton descends – with it, the melody dramatically tips over its climax into decrescendo.

people often say that death has no place in a dream of prosperity and privilege.

but when the distinction between dream and reality blurs as the very dimension crumbles, who’s to say that to die is to wake, and who’s to say that death is not still death?

in his last moments of consciousness, aventurine sees you reach for your scarf with an expression he had never seen before. acceptance, perhaps? or disappointment? regardless, you have still chosen to surprise him at his last moment. must you continue to exceed his expectations even at his execution? but both you and he know that it is already too late, and his final solace is that you are present to witness the final chapter of his story.

that he is not left behind again.

the golden hands come full circle, palms closing as the strings lift their bows in unison, leaving only the winds to continue playing. the conductor drops their baton as the inevitable quickly encroaches upon the center stage, as the music ceases until only a sole trumpet remains sounding –

he closes his eyes with a last smile for you; aventurine has finally won, at the cost of losing everything.

once shall the bell toll, for the blessed prisoner condemned to a life of deceit and insincerity.

in a split second, the sky darkens; what used to be perpetually golden and bright has been eclipsed without a trace. the artificial sun goes out, street lamps are extinguished, a veil of darkness envelops the golden hour. what was once paradise becomes the abyss, and lament stands where joy once stood.

your scarf flutters to the ground as you give it a strong tug, undoing its loops around your neck as you let it fall. you are half-expecting a gasp followed by a waterfall of words, but it never comes.

because there is no source. aventurine isn’t here anymore.

there’s no more of your boss staring at you with the most awestruck expression as you reveal your face anymore. there’s no more of your boss’s endless pestering anymore.

there’s no more of aventurine opening up to you, getting you to open up, or him tentatively trusting you with fragments of his past anymore.

for the first time, you experience anger. a wrath so intense that it is enough to set even the heavens alight.

it’s about time someone ripped up this disgusting dream woven with fabric made of lies. this facade of extravagant luxury built upon a decaying foundation and the desperation of the masses’ escapism, a nightmare delicately packaged into fantasy that had stripped countless people of their ambitions and futures, it’s about time someone demolished it all.

the dreamchasers who voluntarily surrendered their realities for a temporary escape, the family members who could only obey, the heads of families who put together a ploy like this, and the harmonious strings who composed such a chaotic melody…

none of them matter.

all that matters is that aventurine is executed, publicly, in utmost humiliation.

your scarf disintegrates into tiny specks of dust. brilliantly platinum scales extend from your fingertips to your jaw, threatening to stretch along your face, too. as if answering your call, serpents emerge from all corners of your shadow, slithering off towards all directions as they respond to your will.

in the sky that is pitch black, even darker shadows rear their heads; they fly, circle around the plane of the masterfully crafted illusion, around penacony itself. they await your orders, they await your next command.

“eat up, my darlings.”

twice shall the bell toll, for the manufactured illusion of utopia drowning in the afterglow of opulence.

there is a reason why oroboros the voracity has kept to themselves in an unseen corner of the universe – they are not titled the unsatisfied devourer without reason.

with each corner you take for your own sustenance, you feel the universe tilt. the scales are tipping, the balance is tipping. with each piece of reality you consume, the boundary between subconscious and conscious blurs, falsehoods bleed into truth, and you feast upon them all the same.

in your rage, you are not merely tearing lives and environments apart. you are tearing religions apart, tearing peoples apart. worshippers and monuments of xipe the harmony, their symbols and their emanators, the hard-built resort destination called the dreamscape, and the plainly unremarkable penacony in reality, you are tearing it all apart.

you know you have upset the balance, and you know the consequences. you can hear the crystalline chime of the arbiter’s footsteps approaching you, you can almost see the blinding white light of the operating theater.

as the planet of festivities begin to fall out of orbit, so too do the serpents begin to decompose into glittering ashes.

people scream as gravity somersaults, some swallowed by the caving ground, some swallowed by the gaping maws of the faceless serpents, and some dying by the hand of their kin as they struggle for survival.

you watch impassively as mortals scramble to prolong their lives, and you watch impassively as your serpents are lost, one by one, to the hands of an aeon.

if the mere handwave of an arrogant upholder of justice and a simple declaration are justification enough for an execution, for what reason should you not return the gesture?

if people would simply watch as someone is served the death penalty, what reason do you have to act as they become feed one after another?

and what reason do you have to cling onto mortal sentiments, now that your anchor to mortality is gone?

the man they killed is aventurine. your sometimes-too-annoying boss that you would not trade for anything in the world. your anchor; your dear, dear friend.

you see no reason to rein in your instincts anymore. the primal urge to consume overwhelms you, and all you want to do is to devour, devour, until there is nothing left.

voracity. oroboros’s will.

eat up while you still can, fill your metaphorical stomach with the blood of implicit killers, and tear into the flesh of the perpetrators of this grave transgression.

make them pay. before your judgement rains upon you, before the trumpeters herald your doom, before the star radiating false light meets its end in a supernova, make them pay.

their surgery is swift and painless – precise incision; two, three motions of the scalpel; complete excision.

at long last, the curtains fall. theatrics reach its conclusion, and when you look – there is no one left in the audience.

thrice shall the bell toll, for the leviathan whose fury burned brighter than the ordinance of equilibrium.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #ares's voracity pathstrider tales

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pin-k-ink · 2 days

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Cockwarming Ranpo 😵

temptation // edogawa ranpo

tw ⇢ mutual pining, food kink(?), teasing, fingering, making out, office sex, cockwarming, public sex, exhibitionism, punishment sex, squirting, dirty talking, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 5.2k

a/n: when i say public sex i mean public sex

Ranpo Edogawa, the brilliant and eccentric detective of the Armed Detective Agency, was renowned not only for his unparalleled deductive skills but also for his insatiable sweet tooth. His desk was a veritable treasure trove of confections, always stocked with an assortment of colorful candies, decadent chocolates, and exotic sweets from around the world. Each treat was carefully chosen to satisfy his discerning palate, and Ranpo took great pride in his collection.

On this particular day, Ranpo returned to the office after cracking a particularly challenging case. The thrill of the solve still buzzed in his veins, and he couldn't wait to celebrate with his newest acquisition - a box of rare and exquisite truffles from a world-famous chocolatier. He had pulled a few strings and called in some favors to get his hands on these delicacies, and he had been saving them for a special occasion.

As he approached his desk, Ranpo's anticipation grew with each step. He could almost taste the rich, velvety ganache, the smooth dark chocolate shell, and the subtle notes of exotic spices that he knew would dance across his tongue. His fingers twitched with eagerness as he reached for the small, gilded box that housed his precious truffles.

But as Ranpo's gaze fell upon his desk, his excited smile faltered. The box was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, his brow furrowing as he scanned the cluttered surface, hoping that perhaps he had simply misplaced it among the scattered papers and empty candy wrappers. But no matter how hard he looked, the box remained elusive.

A sinking feeling began to settle in Ranpo's stomach as he considered the possibilities. He distinctly remembered placing the box on his desk before stepping out to discuss a case with the Agency's president, Yukichi Fukuzawa. It had only been a brief meeting, no more than fifteen minutes, but apparently, that had been enough time for someone to make off with his prized possession.

Little did Ranpo know that, just moments before, you had been passing by his desk on your way to the file room. A glint of gold had caught your eye, and curiosity got the better of you. You paused, your gaze drawn to the small, ornate box that sat among the clutter of candy wrappers and case files.

Unable to resist the temptation, you reached out and picked up the box, marveling at the intricate design etched into the gold. Your fingers traced the delicate lines, and you could almost feel the promise of something special hidden within.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, you carefully lifted the lid, your eyes widening as they fell upon the most exquisite truffles you had ever seen. The rich, dark chocolate glistened in the light, and the aroma that wafted up from the box was nothing short of heavenly.

Without thinking, you plucked one of the truffles from the box and brought it to your lips. The moment the chocolate touched your tongue, your eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. The truffle seemed to melt in your mouth, the velvety ganache coating your taste buds with a symphony of flavors - rich, dark cocoa, a hint of smoky vanilla, and a subtle note of something exotic that you couldn't quite place.

Engrossed in the heavenly flavors dancing on your tongue, you were oblivious to the sound of approaching footsteps. It wasn't until the realization hit you that you snapped out of your reverie, your eyes widening in alarm as they darted to the half-eaten box of truffles. Panic rising in your chest, you hastily snatched up the incriminating evidence and placed it on your desk, frantically trying to conceal it behind a towering stack of papers. With your heart pounding in your ears, you attempted to compose yourself, hoping against hope that your indulgence would go unnoticed.

Ranpo's mind began to race, his brilliant deductive skills kicking into high gear as he considered the potential culprits. The Armed Detective Agency was a small, tight-knit group, and he couldn't imagine any of his colleagues stooping so low as to steal his sweets. But then again, he had made no secret of his excitement over these particular truffles. Perhaps the temptation had been too much for someone to resist.

As he stood there, lost in thought, a flicker of movement caught Ranpo's eye. He turned just in time to see you, his fellow detective and secret crush, hurrying past his desk, your arms laden with files. There was a peculiar expression on your face, a mix of guilt and nervousness that immediately piqued Ranpo's interest.

His eyes narrowed as he studied you, taking in the slight flush of your cheeks and the way you avoided his gaze. It was then that he noticed the smudge of chocolate at the corner of your mouth, a telltale sign of your transgression.

Ranpo felt a surge of emotions - surprise, betrayal, and a strange, unexpected thrill. He had always admired your intelligence and your kind heart, but he had never imagined you capable of such a daring act. The thought of you, his sweet and innocent colleague, succumbing to the temptation of his forbidden truffles sent a shiver down his spine.

He knew he should be angry, or at the very least, annoyed. But as he watched you disappear into the file room, your shoulders hunched and your steps hurried, Ranpo couldn't help but feel a spark of something else entirely. It was a feeling he had been trying to ignore for months now, a warmth that spread through his chest whenever you were near.

Ranpo had always prided himself on his ability to remain detached, to keep his emotions in check and his heart guarded. But there was something about you that made him want to break all his rules. And now, with this unexpected turn of events, he couldn't help but wonder if fate had handed him the perfect opportunity.

A slow, mischievous smile spread across Ranpo's face as he settled into his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin. He had a plan, a deliciously wicked plan that would not only allow him to exact his revenge but also to explore the tantalizing possibility of something more with you.

He leaned back, his eyes glinting with anticipation as he waited for you to return. The game was on, and Ranpo was determined to savor every moment of it. After all, he knew better than anyone that the sweetest victories were often the ones that required a little bit of risk.

As the minutes ticked by, Ranpo's mind raced with possibilities. He couldn't deny the thrill that ran through him at the thought of confronting you, of seeing the shock and guilt in your eyes as he revealed your crime. But even more than that, he was intrigued by the idea of what might come next.

Ranpo had always been a master of reading people, of seeing beneath the surface and unraveling the secrets that others tried to hide. And in that moment, as he replayed the scene of your hurried escape over and over in his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to your actions than mere temptation.

He thought back to all the times he had caught you watching him, your gaze lingering just a little too long when you thought he wasn't looking. He remembered the way you always seemed to find an excuse to be near him, to brush against him in passing or to lean in close when you spoke. At the time, he had dismissed it as simple admiration, or perhaps even a bit of hero worship. But now, in light of your bold move, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something deeper at play.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway pulled Ranpo from his musings, and he sat up straighter in his chair, his heart beating just a little bit faster. He knew it was you, could sense your presence like a physical force as you drew closer to his desk.

When you finally rounded the corner, your arms now empty of files, Ranpo was ready. He fixed you with a piercing stare, his lips curled in a knowing smirk as he watched the color drain from your face. You froze in place, your eyes wide and your mouth slack as you realized that you had been caught.

"Well, well, well," Ranpo drawled, his voice low and smooth as honey. "If it isn't my favorite little truffle thief."

You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting together in a nervous gesture as you tried to find your words. "Ranpo, I... I can explain," you stammered, your cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

But Ranpo held up a hand, silencing your protests with a single, elegant gesture. "Oh, I'm sure you can," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "But I'm not interested in excuses. I'm interested in retribution."

He stood up slowly, unfolding his lean frame from the chair with a grace that was almost feline. You watched him warily, your heart pounding in your chest as he stalked closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

When he was close enough to touch, Ranpo reached out and traced the smudge of chocolate at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. You shivered at the contact, your breath catching in your throat as he brought his thumb to his own lips and licked it clean.

"Mmm," he hummed, his eyes fluttering closed in a moment of bliss. "Just as delicious as I imagined. But then again, everything tastes better when it's stolen, doesn't it?"

Your mouth went dry at the implication in his words, and you felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. "Ranpo," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to-"

But once again, Ranpo silenced you with a look. "Oh, I know exactly what you meant to do," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned in closer. "And now, my dear, you're going to make it up to me."

Your eyes widened at the promise in his words, and you felt a thrill of excitement that mingled with the guilt in your stomach. You had always admired Ranpo, had always been drawn to his brilliant mind and his mischievous charm. But you had never dared to hope that he might feel the same way about you.

Now, as he stood before you, his eyes dark with a heat that made your knees weak, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps your impulsive act of thievery had been a blessing in disguise.

"Do you have any idea how rare and expensive those truffles are?" he asked, his voice still low but with an undercurrent of something that made your heart skip a beat. "I had to call in a lot of favors to get my hands on them."

You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to the floor as shame washed over you. "I'm so sorry, Ranpo," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know. I'll...I'll buy you more, I promise. Whatever it takes to make this right."

Ranpo was silent for a long moment, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost thoughtful. "No, I don't think that will be necessary," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I have a better idea."

You looked up, surprised and a little wary. "What...what do you mean?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest as Ranpo took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I think," he murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, gently tucking it behind your ear , "that you owe me a favor. A very special favor, to make up for the truffles you've stolen."

Your breath caught in your throat at the touch of his fingers on your skin, and the suggestive edge to his words. "What kind of favor?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ranpo's smile widened, and there was a glint of something wicked in his eyes. "Oh, I have a few ideas," he said, his hand dropping to your waist and pulling you closer. "But first, I think we should finish what you started."

And with that, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of the truffle. You melted into the kiss, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair as you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your cheeks flushed and your eyes hazy with desire. "Delicious," Ranpo murmured, licking his lips with a satisfied smile. "But I think I need a little more to fully appreciate the flavor."

He plucked the box of truffles from your desk and set it on his own, then took your hand and led you over to his chair. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he guided you down onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

"Now," he said, his breath hot against your ear as he nuzzled your neck. "Let's see if we can find a way to make this punishment a little more...enjoyable, shall we?"

Your heart raced at the promise in his words, and you couldn't help but arch into his touch as his hands began to roam over your body. The warmth of his skin seeped through your clothes, and you could feel the firm muscle of his thighs beneath you, supporting your weight with ease.

Ranpo reached for the box of truffles, plucking one from its nest of gold foil and bringing it to your lips. "Open up, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you part your lips obediently.

He placed the truffle on your tongue, and you couldn't help but let out a little moan of pleasure as the rich, dark chocolate began to melt in your mouth. But before you could fully savor the taste, Ranpo's lips were on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth to steal the truffle back.

You gasped into the kiss, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he explored your mouth, chasing the flavor of the chocolate. When he finally pulled away, there was a smear of chocolate on his lips, and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Mmm," he hummed, licking his lips with a satisfied smile. "Even better than I imagined. But I think we can do better than that, don't you?"

He reached for another truffle, holding it between his teeth as he leaned in close. Understanding his intention, you parted your lips, allowing him to pass the truffle to you in a sensual, chocolate-flavored kiss.

Back and forth you went, sharing the truffles between you, the kisses growing more heated and desperate with each passing moment. Ranpo's hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your clothes to touch and tease, stoking the fire that burned within you.

By the time the last truffle was gone, you were both panting, your lips swollen and your bodies thrumming with need. Ranpo's eyes were dark with desire, his gaze raking over you with a hunger that made you shiver.

"I think," he murmured, his voice low and rough, "that it's time for the real punishment to begin."

The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and you could feel the firmness of his muscles beneath his clothes. Ranpo's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he nuzzled your neck, his breath tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

"Now, here's what's going to happen," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You're going to finish all of my paperwork for me, as punishment for eating my precious truffle."

Your eyes widened, a protest forming on your lips at the thought of taking on such a daunting task. But before you could voice your objections, Ranpo silenced you with a quick kiss, his lips firm and insistent against yours.

"And while you're working," he continued, his voice low and teasing as he pulled away, "I'm going to indulge in some of my other sweets. I think I've earned it, don't you?"

With that, Ranpo reached for a nearby jar of colorful candies, popping one into his mouth with a satisfied hum. You watched, transfixed, as he savored the sweet, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in a way that made your mouth go dry.

Shaking yourself from your daze, you turned to face the stack of papers on Ranpo's desk. The task seemed even more daunting now that you were perched on his lap, his body a constant distraction that threatened to derail your focus. With a sigh of resignation, you picked up a pen and began to work, trying to ignore the way Ranpo's arms tightened around your waist, holding you close.

As you worked, Ranpo continued to indulge in his sweets, occasionally offering you a taste. His fingers would brush against your lips as he fed you a candy or a piece of chocolate, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart race. The sugary treats melted on your tongue, mingling with the taste of Ranpo's earlier kiss and creating a heady combination that made your head spin.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself getting lost in the work, your pen scratching against the paper as you filled out form after form. Ranpo's hands began to wander, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your skin through the fabric of your clothes. The very prominent bulge twitching beneath you making it harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand.

The longer you worked, the more Ranpo's touches grew bolder, his hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your stomach. He nuzzled your neck, his lips ghosting over your sensitive flesh and making you shiver. You bit your lip, determined to focus on the task at hand, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the growing ache between your legs.

As if sensing your growing frustration, Ranpo's hand began to drift lower, his fingers tracing the waistband of your panties before slipping beneath the fabric. You gasped as his fingers brushed against your slick heat, and he chuckled, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"Mmm, seems like someone's enjoying their punishment a little too much," he murmured, his fingers teasing your entrance and making you squirm.

You pressed your thighs together, trying to trap his hand, but Ranpo merely laughed, his fingers sliding deeper inside you. "Oh, no," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "That's not how this works, sweetheart. You're going to take everything I give you, and then some."

You groaned as he began to thrust his fingers in and out of you, the delicious friction making your head spin. "Ranpo," you breathed, your hips rocking against his hand as you sought more.

But Ranpo was relentless, his pace never faltering as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His thumb found your clit, stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves with just enough pressure to drive you wild. Your breaths came in short gasps, and you arched against him, your spine creating a mesmerizing curve as you reached forward to grab onto the desk.

Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, Ranpo suddenly withdrew his fingers, leaving you trembling and aching with need. You whimpered, the loss of his touch almost unbearable, and you heard him chuckle again.

Then you heard the sound metal, Ranpo shifting you in his lap as he worked on his belt buckle. With a swift tug, his trousers were undone and the unmistakable feeling of his bare cock, hot and hard against the curve of your ass.

"Do you want more?" Ranpo's voice was thick with lust, his lips pressed against your ear. "All you have to do is ask."

You swallowed, the thought of begging for his cock making you burn with shame and arousal.

But the throbbing between your legs was too strong, and you found yourself giving in.

"Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need you, Ranpo."

You felt his grin against your skin as his hand slid between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your soaked entrance. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low purr. "Now, why don't you warm my cock for me while you work. That's the real punishment, after all."

With a deft motion, he lifted your hips and sank you down onto his thick shaft. You let out a strangled moan as his cock stretched you open, filling you so completely that it took your breath away.

Ranpo settled back in his chair, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. You were impaled on his cock, the fullness of him pressing against your inner walls and making your toes curl.

"There," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Now, you can get back to work."

Your hand shook as you picked up the pen, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of Ranpo's cock pulsing inside you. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, and every movement made you more and more aware of the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, and the way his arms wrapped around you.

But still, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, your pen flying across the pages as you filled out form after form. Ranpo kept perfectly still, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin and his lips brushing against your neck.

Just as you were nearing the end of the stack of papers, the sound of footsteps and voices in the hallway outside the office made you freeze. Your heart leapt into your throat as you realized that the rest of the team was returning from their lunch break, and here you were, perched on Ranpo's lap like a stolen treat, with his cock, balls deep inside your cunt.

Ranpo, however, seemed unfazed by the impending arrival of your colleagues. If anything, the wicked gleam in his eyes only intensified, as if he relished the thought of being caught in such a compromising position. His hands continued their teasing exploration of your body, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to trace the sensitive skin of your thighs.

The door to the office swung open, and you felt the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks as Yosano, Kunikida, and the others filed in. Their eyes widened as they took in the sight of you on Ranpo's lap, your skirt hiked up and your face flushed with a mix of desire and mortification.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Yosano drawled, a smirk playing on her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Looks like someone's been a naughty girl."

Kunikida, ever the professional, averted his gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he cleared his throat. "Ranpo-san, this is hardly appropriate behavior for the office," he said, his voice stern despite his obvious discomfort.

Ranpo, however, seemed unfazed by the disapproval in Kunikida's tone. He merely tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him as he grinned up at his colleagues. "What can I say? She ate my truffle, and now she's paying the price."

The others exchanged glances, a mix of amusement and exasperation on their faces. They had long since grown accustomed to Ranpo's eccentricities, but this was a new level of boldness, even for him.

You squirmed in Ranpo's lap, your face burning with embarrassment as you tried to disentangle yourself from his embrace. But Ranpo held fast, his fingers digging into your hips as he kept you firmly in place.

"Now, now, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "You still have work to do. Be glad they can’t see how much your pussy is drooling all over my cock."

With that, he reached for another candy, popping it into his mouth with a satisfied hum. The others shook their heads, a mix of amusement and resignation on their faces as they settled into their own desks, pointedly avoiding looking in your direction.

You could feel their gazes on you, though, the weight of their curiosity and judgment making your skin prickle with self-consciousness. But Ranpo seemed oblivious to it all, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your thigh as if he were completely unconcerned with the eyes on the two of you.

You bit your lip, a fresh wave of heat flooding your cheeks as you picked up the pen once more. Your hand trembled, the ink flowing across the page in an unsteady scrawl.

But still, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, determined to complete the paperwork and put an end to this torture. As the minutes ticked by, you could feel Ranpo's cock twitching inside you, his obvious arousal sending a thrill of excitement through you.

Just as you were nearing the end of the stack of papers, Ranpo's fingers found their way back between your thighs, teasing your sensitive clit and making you gasp.

"Keep working, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "We wouldn't want the others to think you're slacking off, would we?"

The others glanced up at the sound of your gasp, a mix of embarrassment and desire on their faces as they took in the sight of you, perched on Ranpo's lap and trembling with need. But no one dared to speak, and the only sounds in the office were the scratch of pens on paper and the low hum of the air conditioning.

As Ranpo's fingers continued their teasing exploration of your slick folds, your vision blurred, the words on the page swimming before your eyes. Your breathing grew ragged, and your hips began to rock involuntarily, desperate for more.

Ranpo's grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Can't focus?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. "Maybe I should stop. After all, I wouldn't want to interfere with your punishment."

You felt a pang of disappointment at his words, but you knew better than to argue.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a desperate plea. "I need to finish this."

Ranpo smiled, his fingers never ceasing their teasing rhythm. "Then you'd better hurry up," he murmured. "Because if you don't finish soon, l'm going to take you right here, in front of everyone. And then they'll all know how much you enjoy being my naughty little thief."

His words sent a thrill of excitement through you, mingling with the shame and arousal that already burned in your veins. The thought of your colleagues watching as Ranpo fucked you was both mortifying and intoxicating, and the image of it made you even wetter.

Ranpo sensed your reaction, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he slid two fingers on either side of your swollen clit, pinching slowly and deliberately. "I bet they'd like that, wouldn't they?" he murmured, his voice a low purr. "To see how pretty you look when you come, how shamelessly you beg for more."

"Ranpo," you gasped, his words sending a surge of pleasure through you. You were so close, the tension coiled inside you ready to snap. "Please, I-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Ranpo's thumb pressed down hard on your clit, sending you spiraling over the edge. You cried out softly, slumping against the desk as your juices flowed out freely, dripping down the leather chair.

The others stared in disbelief, their faces flushed with embarrassment and arousal as they watched Ranpo slowly pull his fingers from your slick folds, an obscene amount of your juices now creating a puddle on the floor. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied smile.

"Mmm," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "Just as delicious as I imagined. But there's one last thing we need to do."

Your heart raced in anticipation, your skin tingling as Ranpo's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

"What's that?" you breathed, the aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through your body.

Ranpo grinned, his fingers trailing down your stomach to find the spot where his cock was still buried inside you. "I think it's time we showed the others just how much you love being my little truffle thief."

Without warning, he thrust up into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot and making you cry out. Your hands flew to the desk, gripping the edge as he pounded into you, his hips setting a punishing rhythm.

"Ranpo," you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"Come on, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice strained with his own desire. "Show them how good it feels." Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you surrendered to the pleasure, your hips moving in time with his. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his arousal building with each stroke.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the office, the scent of sex mingling with the familiar aroma of ink and paper. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let yourself get lost in the sensation, the pressure building in your core until it finally snapped.

You came hard, your muscles clenching around Ranpo's cock and drawing a groan from his lips. Your juices flowed freely, soaking the chair beneath you as you trembled in his arms.

"That's it," Ranpo growled, his fingers digging into your skin as he rode out your orgasm. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come for me."

You shuddered, his words sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.

The others watched in rapt attention, their own arousal obvious in their flushed cheeks and darkened eyes.

Ranpo's thrusts became erratic, and he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. With a muffled groan, he came, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed.

The room was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing and the pounding of your heart in your ears. Your limbs felt boneless, and your head was spinning, the intensity of your release leaving you dazed and sated.

As Ranpo's cock began to soften, you felt a rush of shame and embarrassment, realizing that the others had witnessed everything. But as you glanced around the room, you were surprised to see a mix of admiration and lust on their faces, their eyes locked on the place where your bodies were still connected.

Ranpo pulled away slowly, his arms releasing their tight hold around your waist. He tucked himself back into his trousers, the fabric damp with your juices.

"There," he said, his voice a low, satisfied purr. "Now we're even."

Your eyes widened, your cheeks flushing as you realized that the pile of unfinished paperwork was still sitting on the desk in front of you.

Ranpo's smile widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. "I'll finish the rest. But only because you're such a good girl."

#bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd x reader smut #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #ranpo x reader smut #ranpo smut #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months

Text

We'll give it a shot

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31

Prompt: New year's resolutions

Rated: G

CW: aftermath of injury; aftermath of trauma

Tags: Established relationship; recovery; fluff

Notes: Continued from days 3 and 18 - @house-of-the-moving-image and I just wanted them to be happy after all we put them through. 😭❤️

Steve has always been all movement, all fluid grace, for as long as Eddie remembers. On the pitch, in the pool. Shielding others with his own body, his strength. He was proud of this. It was the one thing he knew he was good at.

And then Vecna nearly twisted his limbs from his body. Broke his arm in three different places, his leg in five.

“They say I'll need to be patient,” Steve tells Eddie a few months after everything, hands tangled over the middle console of the van. It's late December and they're on their way back from physical therapy. “Could be months before I walk without crutches. Years maybe before I'm back to the way I was before… or close.”

Eddie clenches his free hand around the steering wheel, like Steve clung to that stupid handrail earlier. White-knuckled and pale-faced, jaw locked tight as he struggled to take a few shaky steps. Not for the first time, he wishes that he'd been faster, pulled him out sooner-

“Eds.”

He snaps back to the present as if pulled by a bungee rope. Steve’s eyes are warm and soft.

“Stop it,” he says, gentle and firm and so very strong, so very Steve. Eddie needs to swallow against the sudden thickness clogging his throat. “You've nothing to hold against yourself. You saved me.”

“You saved yourself,” Eddie huffs, eyes stubbornly trained on the snowy road. “I helped, is all. You can do this, too. You'll be walking in no time, you just wait.”

“Dunno,” Steve mutters. He sounds so small, so broken, so very much not like himself, and Eddie wishes he could resurrect Vecna, simply to kill him again. Make it more painful this time, let him suffer like he made them suffer. “You saw me just now. Feels like I need to fight forever for every little inch of success.”

“Let's make a deal?”

The words are out before Eddie can think better of it, but the sadness on Steve’s face has given way to curiosity, so he shoulders on.

“We could make it a new year's resolution. If you manage to walk by … July, let's say, I'll quit smoking.”

“Oh, please!” Steve's eyebrow quirks. “As if you could.”

“Of course I could. I'm tired of you whining about my cigarette breath anyhow. What's wrong, big boy? Scared of getting your ass handed to you?”

“Fuck off,” Steve grouses, but his mouth is curling into a smile and his eyes are sparkling. “It's on, dude!”

“Hell, yeah!” Eddie makes no attempt at hiding his smug grin. Count on Steve’s competitive streak to win him over. “It's so on!”

“Oh God,” Steve squawks the second his hands lose contact with the crutches. “It's off. Eds, it's off, give’m here.”

“Nuh-uh!” Eddie dances a step back - not far, still close enough to catch Steve in case he falls, but far enough to keep the crutches out of reach. “Just give it a shot, c’mon. You got this.”

Over the distance between them, their eyes meet.

“I've gotcha.”

Steve's eyes light up and a small laugh bubbles from his throat.

And then he walks.

Eddie makes sure to stay a bit ahead, spouting a never-ending string of encouragement and jokes and sweet nonsense. Just keeps talking so that Steve can focus on something other than the fear and the doubt. Guides him with his voice like he's done before, like he'll keep doing for as long as Steve needs, as long as he wants.

The first steps are unsure and wobbly, but soon enough, Steve finds his footing. They've both kicked off their shoes, and the dry summer grass is brittle under their naked feet, the earth soft and warm. The sound of their footfalls mingles with the whirr of the cicadas in the grass, the rush of his own blood in his ears, their mingled laughter, a gorgeous, wonderful symphony of alive, alive, alive.

When Steve’s legs give out and he stumbles, Eddie is there. He cushions their fall with his own body and they go down in a tangle of limbs and laughter, lips meeting before they even hit the ground. The crutches go clattering somewhere to the side.

“I did it!” Steve gasps against his mouth, and Eddie can't tell if the sound is more laugh or more sob. “Shit, did you- did you see that? I did it!”

“You did it,” Eddie rumbles, hands in Steve's hair, kissing his lips and nose and eyes and anything he can reach between words. Both their cheeks are wet with tears, but they're good tears, finally good tears, and he can’t tell whose they are anymore. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that they’re alive, and here, and together. “Fuck yeah, you did, always knew you would. So strong, so amazing. Love you so much.”

Steve makes another sound, a raw thing so full of emotion it makes Eddie’s heart flutter, and crashes their lips together again, firmer, longer. Eddie sighs as a hesitant tongue coaxes at his lips, opens up, lets him in.

And then Steve groans and pulls back.

“What?” Eddie asks, insides twisting with worry. “Shit, did you hurt yourself? What-”

“‘m fine!” Steve wheezes, glancing up at him with watery eyes. “You just taste like an ashtray, is all.”

“Oh, c'mon!” Eddie grouses while Steve rolls off him, flops onto his back in the grass. “I had like half a cig this morning.”

“Half a cig too much, then,” Steve beams up at him, all glinting teeth and gold-streaked hair in the sunlight, eyes sparkling with mirth and alive, alive, alive. “I win.”

Eddie pouts. “What though? Can't remember agreeing on a prize, this was all fun and-”

One strong, nimble hand tangles in the collar of his shirt, pulls him in.

“Shut up and kiss me, ash breath.”

Eddie has never obeyed an order more gladly in his life.

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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ghxstmxchine · 9 months

Text

ʟɪᴘꜱᴛɪᴄᴋ ꜱᴛᴀɪɴꜱ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: it's almost show time for your band but those minutes seem to be taking forever because of the tension between you and a certain guitarist in the band...

☆ ᴀ/ɴ: in the theme of me being terribly down bad for Hobie I wrote this. band au my beloved,,, and the reader plays bass bc that's the only instrument I'm good at

☆ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ: SFW // Hobie Brown x male!reader // w.c: 1.6k // warnings: smoking, lots of shameless flirting, not proofread as per usual

“Hobie?” You call over your shoulder, swearing under your breath after your eyeliner pencil broke for what felt like the third time that weekend. That’s what you get for buying the cheapest option at the store.

There’s shuffling outside the dressing room, the door swinging open and Hobie leans against the door frame, eyes narrowed and staring closely at you and arms folded in front of his chest. “You called?”

“Got another eyeliner pencil? Mine keeps breaking.” You huff, knowing full well Hobie wore enough eyeliner on stage to rival a raccoon. He nods and disappears for a moment, returning with a small tube in hand. You breathe a sigh of relief, standing to go grab it from him but he quickly moves his arm out of reach, leaning in close enough that your faces are inches apart.

“Gonna say thank you or anything, luv?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips painted black with lipstick. He’s so… close. Weirdly so, as if he’s trying to get some sort of reaction out of you. And he does, you can feel a strange warmth coursing through you that makes your knees feel weak.

But you step closer, ignoring the way your stomach twists quickly grabbing it from Hobie’s hand. “Yeah, thanks for recommending me such a shit eyeliner.” You mumble and roll your eyes, slumping back in front of the mirror to finish getting ready.

“Mm, if I recall correctly I told you not to buy it. Someone didn’t want to listen, huh?” Hobie drawls, his hands resting on the back of your chair and watching you through the mirror as you apply the eyeliner, a lazy smile playing on his lips. There’s something about him tonight that you can’t place, the small room feeling stuffier than usual. “Thank god I had an extra, gotta make sure the pretty boy stays pretty.” He hums.

“As if I’m not pretty all the time?” You respond jokingly, trying to keep a steady hand as the pencil runs along your waterline, leaving behind a trail of black.

Hobie leans in closer, the chair groaning with his weight as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, they looked darker but it could’ve been the low light of the room. “Oh luv, you’re so much more than just pretty.” He says lowly, his breath tickling the shell of your ear and making your breath hitch. There was something bordering on dangerous about Hobie’s tone.

You click the cap back on the eyeliner, placing it on the table and not caring to even hand it to Hobie before rising to your feet and grabbing your jacket. “Are you drunk or something?” You ask as you shrug the jacket on, moving quickly to escape the heavy tension shrouding you both in the room.

Hobie holds his hands up in a defensive motion, grinning wildly at you. “Haven’t even touched a drop.” He chuckles without missing a beat. “What makes you think that?”

“Gonna be a big show tonight. We all deal with our anxieties differently.” You mumble, not exactly lying. Hobie shrugs and waves your implication off, stealing your seat to fix his own makeup as you leave the room to go find your bass.

You lug it off of the couch, throwing the strap over your shoulder as your other hand reaches for the cold metal of the pegs. It’s not as painfully out of tune as usual, the sound smooth and full as you pluck the strings, trying to focus on getting the right pitch and not how your brain is swirling with thoughts about Hobie. The way his voice sounds reverberates in your head more than the deep hum of the strings, the sounds mixing together in a strange stomach churning symphony.

It wasn’t exactly new, Hobie tended to be a flirty person and was completely shameless about it. It was almost like it was second nature for suggestive comments to spill from his lips, drinking up the sight of blushing faces and embarrassment like some sort of amorous vampire. You’d almost written it off as some sort of strange hazing when you first joined the band before you learned Hobie was just like that.

Well, he was like that with you specifically, his hand staying the few extra seconds on the small of your back whenever he passed behind you in the dressing room. Or those compliments on how good everyone looked seemingly being directed at you more than anyone else. And how he looked at you on stage, god he looked at you like you were some kind of meal.

Yeah, something was up with Hobie.

You cussed when your sweaty hand slips on the fretboard, messing up the bassline you’d been absentmindedly practicing for the past few minutes. You were nervous, struggling to get your hand back in place to play again, shaking too hard to press the strings down so they don’t rattle against the body.

You clamber to your feet, shoving your hands in your pocket and fishing out the last cigarette you’d managed to save this long. The outside air is cool and you can hear the far away chatter of fans queuing up outside the venue. Leaning against the cold brick of the alley wall, you light your cigarette and breathe out a cloud of smoke into the cold air.

“You got another I could bum off ya?” Hobie’s voice breaks your peace as he approaches, that same smirk on his face.

“This was my last one.”

“I haven’t got anythin’ against sharing.” He chuckles and plucks it from your fingers without asking, slotting the cigarette between lipstick smeared lips and breathing in deeply. His lipstick stains the paper and he breathes the smoke out into your face, making your eyes water. “Y’know staring’s rude.”

“So is taking my cig.” You grunt and take it from his fingers, momentarily brushing against his hand. He’s warm and it makes you suck in a shocked breath, immediately averting your gaze from him. Ignoring the black lipstick stains you slip the cigarette back between your lips.

“And so is not sharing.” Hobie retorts, relaxing against the wall next to you, all his jewelry and pins jingling like a wind chime. He’s watching you and you know it, you can feel his heavy gaze on you and it’s nearly suffocating, watching from your peripheral as his eyes rove over your body. “What’s with the new look, tryin’ to catch someone’s eye?”

“Just felt like changing it up.” You mumble, ignoring the way your face gets hotter. Hobie’s heavy boots drag along the concrete as he steps in front of you, practically boxing you in. You stay cool, breathing smoke back in his face and he rolls his eyes.

“Well I like it, think you look stunnin’ dear.” Hobie drawls, his hand cupping your cheek. His hand is rough against your skin, the calluses from playing guitar are noticeable but something about it feels… good. Familiar in a way. His thumb strokes your cheekbone and your breath stutters, the cigarette falling from your lips to the ground but neither of you pay it any mind. “Mm, I like the eyeliner on you. Fits ya just right.”

“I like the lipstick.” You blurt out suddenly and Hobie chuckles, looming closer to your face. You can feel his breath on your cheek and it tickles but you don’t move, still firmly pressed against the wall.

“Thought you would, too bad it gets messy too easily.”

“Messy, how?”

“Hm? You really don’t know luv?” He says breathlessly. You both are holding your breath, inches away from each other, waiting to see who will move first. Who will break the tension building in the air. His hand is on your hip and you don’t recall when it got there, his touch burning through your clothes and making your skin warm. “You want me to show you how?”

You’re nodding before you even know you are, before you’re even aware of the feeling of Hobie’s lips on yours. It’s quick, barely taking a second before his weight is crushing you against the wall and his lips are pressed firmly against yours. It’s intoxicating, just the simple feeling is enough to make you light headed as he kneads your lips together, his lip ring cold on your skin but making your skin flare up with warmth.

His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, tasting nicotine and the small ball of his tongue piercing feels strange against your own tongue. You let him slip into your mouth, melding together as you move in tandem against each other, kissing shamelessly in the dimly lit alley way. Hobie is good, knowing just what to do to leave you breathless and you follow, turning into a strange tug of war for pleasure.

But before anything else can come from it, before his hand can move and lower on his lip and your head can turn any more cloudy, he pulls away. You both stand there huffing for a moment, bodies tingling and eyes dark with lust. Hobie’s lipstick is smeared on his face, black lines swiping down his chin and on his cheek.

“That’s how.” He hums without skipping a beat, pulling away and fixing his shirt. He steps on the cigarette, stubbing it out before turning on his heel. “Don’t forget that we go on in ten.” He says over his shoulder as he waltzes back towards the door, acting like nothing had happened.

“And wipe the lipstick off your face before everyone starts starin’.” He adds before the door closes behind him, leaving you alone in the alley.

#atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #atsv #hobie brown #male reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown imagine #spiderpunk

404 notes · View notes

thecuriousquest · 8 months

Note

Yandere Levi making his favourite cadet cockwarm him while he does paperwork and when she accidentally comes without permission he punishes her 😮‍💨

The Favorite

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, cock warming, orgasms, anal punishment, possessive tendencies, controlling tendencies, nipple play, clit stimulation

Checkout my Master List here.

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Sitting on Levi’s cock while he does paperwork at his desk is unbearable. He takes his sweet time, sipping on tea. While he holds his pen in one hand, he brushes his thumb over your nipple. All you want to do is start bouncing, but you know you’ll be punished if you do.

You try to be still, but it’s so difficult. He’s not allowing you to do anything. You can’t even talk.

Squirming for the third time, he pinches your nipple rather harshly, causing you to yelp. You jump from the pain, and with Levi’s hard cock being left inside of you for so long, that little stimulation was all you needed to come.

“You didn’t,” accusation laces his tone.

Blushing so much that the heavens could see your rosy cheeks, you begin to trip over every word of justification that attempts to come out of your mouth. “I…I didn’t mean to…Captain, I swear, it was an accident!”

Putting his pen down, his free hand leaves your nipple. Both paws go straight to your hips as he lifts you up. The amount of juice dripping from your pussy shows just how long you’ve been sitting on his cock.

Hours. You’ve been there for two fucking hours.

“Mhm, didn’t I tell you not to come?”

Your eyes scrunch shut. “I’m sorry.”

“‘I’m sorry’ isn’t an answer, cadet.”

“Yes, I came without your permission. I couldn’t help it, Captain, please!”

“Don’t whine like a fucking brat.”

He finally lowers you back down on his lap, but you feel the tip of his cock in a different place now.

“Oh, Captain, please, it’s gonna hurt…”

“Hush, Darling, it won’t hurt as much since you came all over my dick.”

Slipping through your back entrance is jarring to say the least. You’re shocked at how painful it is, and you bite your lip to keep quiet. However, small whimpers climb from the depths of your throat and work past your swelling lip, giving the captain something to chase as his hips thrust into you.

You want to be still, you want to be good, but it’s too much stimulation. You find yourself leaning back against him. He pays you no mind. Ripping your shirt open with both hands, he pinches your nipple. Using his free fingers, he rubs your sensitive clit in circular motions.

Gasping for air you didn’t know you needed, you rut against him, fucking into his hand with glazed over eyes. It all feels so powerfully good.

“This is why you’re my favorite cadet. You just want to please your master. Such a submissive- hmmm- little fucking slut. Ah, fuck, look at you. You’re not even fighting it.”

You barely even hear him whispering and moaning in your ear. With your tongue hanging out, panting like a messy little pet, you find yourself nodding even though you can’t understand a word he says.

“You’re fucking enjoying this shit. Isn’t that right?”

Mindlessly agreeing, you nod. You couldn’t speak even if you tried. You’re trapped in a white space of bliss, surrounded by pleasure. It’s no longer painful, in fact, it’s peaceful.

“No other man gets to fucking have you like this. Only me. I’m the only one who gets to see you so vulnerable. Fuck, Y/N, I’m the only one who gets to have this tight little cunt.”

Suddenly, you two find yourselves gushing at the same time as he empties himself into you. You leak all over his white pants, too tired to care about the mess.

He pulls you off of him, and you’re so exhausted that you can only lean your head against his shoulder as he holds you in his lap. You can feel him still strumming your bare nipple like the strings of an instrument.

To him, you are his little instrument of pleasure. Your moans and screams are music to his ears, and he conducts you like a symphony. The way he can control every single one of your vocal chords to produce a capturing song is magnificent.

You can’t help giggling at this realization.

“Something amusing to you, cadet?” He looks at you with a stern expression.

“I’m like your little violin.”

You can tell he’s contemplating this by the soft, questioning “hmmm” rumbling in his chest. “Care to explain?”

Yawning, you shift your head on his shoulder, becoming even more comfortable. “I’m your favorite instrument to play with.”

As your eyes finally close, you miss the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Indeed you are.”

296 notes · View notes

agentstarkid · 5 months

Text

SZÍVEM ✦ DR3

"In the symphony of emotions, "Szívem" resonates as a melody of love and tenderness. This Hungarian term translates to "(you are) my heart" in English and carries a depth of emotion within the context of love. Beyond a mere anatomical reference, "szívem" embodies a profound and sentimental connection. It's a tender expression, encapsulating the heart's vulnerability and openness in love. When someone refers to another as "szívem," it reflects an intimate bond, signifying that their heart beats in unison with the other. It signifies a poetic intertwining of hearts, acknowledging that love is not just a fleeting emotion but a permanent residence within one's very essence. In the language of love, "szívem" conveys a sentiment that goes beyond words, expressing a deep, intrinsic connection and an acknowledgment of shared emotions at the core of a meaningful relationship."

✦ pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ type: social media au

✦ fc: becky g

✦ warnings: female!reader, fluff, mentions of sexual acts, age gap, language, internet meanies, horniness lol.

✦ pit wall live: Holii loves! I'm so sorry for the wait but so much has happened since I posted chapter 3, the main problem was that my laptop's battery died and I had to buy a new one and that took me weeks 😢 but I came back with a new ace up my sleeve...I KNOW HOW TO MAKE GIFS NOW!!! 🤩 (well, kind of lol). Also, I'd like to give a massive shoutout to Tally (@onceuponaoneshotfanfic) for being my personal English-er and always being an angel, letting me bounce on her all my ideas and all my constant ramblings 😝💖 — go and check out her fics, they are masterpieces! PLEASE don't forget to feed this fic monster with reblogs and/or comments! Enjoy this extra sweet chapter! 😘

─── The Joker & The Queen (Masterlist)

JANUARY 1, 2021

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JANUARY 4 - 7, 2021

yourinstagram has added to their story!

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danielricciardo has added to their story!

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JANUARY 15, 2021

yourinstagram

♡ liked by rubendias, mclaren, danielricciardo and 6,452,325 others

yourinstagram SURPRISE!!! Excited to share that my studio album 'Chrysalis' is taking flight tonight at midnight! 🦋✨ To put it plainly, for the first time in my life, I just couldn’t stop writing songs. To try and put it more poetically, this album embodies a journey of love, growth, and the beautiful chaos in between. This couldn't have been possible without my muse, the one who untangled all the strings around my wings that were tied. Now, I remember what it feels like to fly ❤️

View all 20,975 comments

user i would like to apologize now for the person i will become after this album comes out

danielricciardo I'm glad to witness your journey. You're the one soaring, and I'm here cheering you on from the ground. Keep reaching new heights, love ❤️

yourinstagram You might be cheering from the ground, but your love has been the wind beneath my wings 🦋❤️ Grateful for your unwavering support 🥰

lilymhe talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference

user3 "I love you so much and so you can imagine how much, count all the stars and add one more" <- "Tanto" is such a romantic song 😭

user4 i wish i could gatekeep this forever…

user5 we, the dan-y/n nation, claim butterflies as one of our anthems!

userA ‘Enchanted’ will forever be our #1 anthem, but ‘Butterflies’ is #2 🦋

user6 "boys will be boys but girls will be women" you should be damn sure i'm gonna blast that song in the office 24/7

user7 if the word ‘aesthetic’ was an album:

user8 what's everyone's chrysalis holy trinity!?

userA Butterflies, Cowboy Like Me, Golden Hour userB Peace, Lightweight & Little Did I Know — I'm a sucker for songs where the singer shows vulnerability userC userB i did tear up a little bit with Peace ngl — "Give you my wild, give you a CHILD"!?!? SCREAMING!!!! userD is2g miss yourinstagram if you come out announcing a baby ricciardo after this i'm gonna send you all my hospital and funeral expenses 🫠

user9 Mom help my emotional support global superstar is fucking with me again

userA AHDHERKR YEAH userB me every single day, this woman lives to terrorize me lmaoo userC she's insane and i just deal with it tbh I mean releasing a whole album after releasing another one not even 6 months ago?! that's NUTS!

user10 good morning to "With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con" and "You set my world on fire and I know, I know everything's gonna be alright" and "little did I know you would be the one I confide in...Little did I know it was you before I ever decided" and "Never knew I could laugh 'til I couldn't breathe, never thought I could show someone all of me, things are better than they've ever been" and "I watch superman fly away, you've got a busy day today. Go save the world I'll be around" and "My name is whatever you decide and I'm just gonna call you mine. I'm insane, but I'm your baby" and "My heartbeat is a sail, your heartbeat is a wave" and "The way you look at me, I'm starting to believe that I could call you mine and you'd still let me shine" good morning to daniel ricciardo for the masterpiece he inspired.

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FEBRUARY 4, 2021

danielricciardo

♡ liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63, landonorris and 9,435 others

danielricciardo To the woman who makes every day brighter and my heart fuller... Happy anniversary, Chip ❤️ Here's to the love that grows stronger with each passing day.

View all 5,201 comments

yourinstagram One year down, forever to go! ❤️ Let's continue reaching for the stars together 😘

georgerussell63 Happy anniversary, lovebirds!

natalie_pinkham Happy anniversary to the dynamic duo! 🌟 Here's to many more years of joy and laughter! 🥂❤️

user Happy anniversary to the power couple that leaves our hearts racing 🏁❤️

kymillman Cheers to the love that keeps burning rubber and breaking records! Happy anniversary, Daniel and Y/N!

yourmomsinstagram Love you and miss you both ❤️❤️

userA not the queen mother only commenting on dan's posts 😂 yourinstagram userA don't be fooled by "both", she only means him. He's her favorite child now 🫡 yourmomsinstagram yourinstagram no seas celosa!! 🤨😅

user2 the difference between their captions speaks so loud lmao

userA maybe daniel is realizing that what he needs is a woman by his side, not a girl. userB uh I think you misspelled it, you meant he doesn't need a SLUT*

martingarrix Who would've thought that when I introduced these two, I'd be creating a masterpiece! 🤷‍♂️ Happy anniversary, you crazy kids!

danielricciardo Haha Garrix, the man of many talents! Thanks for playing Cupid that night, mate!

ausgp POWER COUPLE GOALS!! 😭

scottyjames31 Who knew Daniel's biggest accomplishment would be convincing Y/N to love his terrible jokes? Love sure is weird! Congrats mates! 🎉

danielricciardo I'm sure you can relate mate, right chloestroll? chloestroll all I can say is that yourinstagram and I desperately need a girl's trip yourinstagram i'm already packing my bags babe, see ya at the airport chloestroll danielricciardo 💔 scottyjames31 💔 x2

user3 Congrats! Just feels like male celebrities aren't even trying to find girlfriends over 25 anymore. Well good luck and God bless

user4 Their age difference is so gross 🤢

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yourinstagram

♡ liked by danielricciardo, drewbarrymore, jessicaalba and 6,107,435 others

yourinstagram Every love story has a beginning, and ours started with a smile. Fast forward, it's been 365 days, countless memories, wild adventures, and a heart full of unwavering love, and it feels like we've only just begun. Thank you for being my constant, my greatest love, and my best friend. Happy anniversary, Danielito! Here's to the countless sunsets, slow-dancing in the kitchen and the beautiful journey of growing together.

I love you ❤️

I'll always feel enchanted to have met you. ✨🃏

View all 17,201 comments

user she loves romcoms so much she’s now in one of her own 🥰

user2 Universe conspired, hearts collided, and now they're inseparable! ❤️

danielricciardo it's been a journey I wouldn't trade for anything, amor 🥰

martingarrix Happy anniversary to the dynamic duo I proudly orchestrated! 😎 As the undisputed mastermind behind this love story, I must say, you're welcome!

itsvittoriasousa uh nope, this was a joint effort 🤨 this wouldn't have happened if we didn't drag her to that party when all she wanted to do was to stay at home and watch re-runs of friends all night 🤦🏻‍♀️ iamdannaschwarz I wouldn't disagree with a pregnant woman if I were you, man 👀 yourinstagram itsvittoriasousa that was a great plan!! but I do prefer this outcome better so, thank you, guys! 😝

corey_wilson Happy anniversary, legends! Watching you two navigate this journey together is pure magic 🌟

zendaya the most attractive couple of all time!! Sorry to reduce you to looks 🤷🏾‍♀️

yourinstagram zendaya if you don't objectify us it doesn't count, babes 💕

user after everything she went through on her past relationships i'm really happy she's found someone who could love her and cherish her how she deserves! 🥹❤️

kristenanniebell Happy anniversary to the couple who defines love and friendship in the most beautiful way! ❤️

selenagomez such genuine souls 💕

user2 they just called me single in too many languages 😭 this video is so adorable! I feel like we are intruding in a sacred moment

userA their song choice is making me cry even more because ‘start of something good’ by daughtry conveys a sense of hope and optimism and the anticipation of a promising journey ahead and it's just perfect for them 😭❤️ userB He kisses her three times when "and all my scars don't seem to matter anymore 'cause they led me here to you" plays and now I'm on the fucking floor sobbing 😭

jvn Don't mind me, I'm just here melting because this is too damn cute 💖

user3 lucky girl, she is not that pretty, nothing special in her beauty

fioamato Happy anniversary, you two lovebirds! 🥂 Can't believe it's been a whole year of watching your love story unfold. Here's to many more chapters filled with laughter and adventures! Love you both! 💖✨ #ThirdWheelingForLife

user4 this looks like a fresh faced teenager with an old geezer. it's weird. Anyways, this relationship is not gonna last

donatella_versache Wishing you both a day as fabulous as you are ❤️

salmahayek Happy anniversary, danielricciardo and yourinstagram. Your journey is a testament to the power of true love. Here's to many more years of happiness! 🍾💖

user5 I’m gonna hug a tree at 90mph

user6 not my heart melting for these two 😭

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MARCH 9, 2021

yourinstagram

♡ liked by danielricciardo, natalie_pinkham, chloestroll and 7,402,385 others

yourinstagram Giddy up, loves! 🐎✨ Excited to unveil the 'Cowboy Like Me' music video! This marks my directorial debut, and who better to have as the leading cowboy than the hottest man in town 🤤 This song, this video — it's all about him. Get ready for a wild west love story with a dash of cuteness, a sprinkle of sexy, and a whole lot of us. Join the ride! 🤠

View all 21,475 comments

danielricciardo Howdy, need a ride? 😏 You know what they say about a cowboy with a large belt buckle 😏

yourinstagram oh sir, i'm feeling really very altruistic lately and y'know what they say... save a horse, ride a cowboy 🤘🏼😜 btw it's that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? 😏 userA hello? 911? 👮🏻‍♂️ right here these two are being horny on main AGAIN 👀👀👀 JAIL TIME!!! 😩 userB I SPAT MY WATER!!! 😳

danielricciardo I had a hog-killin' time filming this 🤠 i'm waiting for my academy's nominations already 😎

user Mami? No. Mami? No. Mami? No. Mami?? 🥵🍑

camila_cabello OMG YES YES YES 🔥🔥🔥

lilyjcollins Always in awe of you 😍

user2 cant wait for y'alls kids to look back on this video in 20 years and be like wow my parents are so fucking cool

chloestroll forever obsessed with you ❤️

michaelitaliano i'm free next time you need an extra, just saying

yourinstagram sure, you can be the rodeo clown. I know you are a natural 😊 user lmaooooo 💀💀💀 it screams sibling energy 😂

user4 THE TAG PLACEMENT I CAN'T 💀💀 MISS Y/N YOU'RE A SAVAGE

user5 He's so proud to be with her!!! No one else has showed this amount of pride — they are both glowing 🤧❤️

lilymhe not a crumb was left 👏🏼 literally ICONIC

user6 He doesn't wreck her plans he helps them happen 😭

user7 she gives off desperate for attention vibes

user is it her or is it you hun? get off of her page

user8 LOOK AT MY MOM AND DAD!! 😭❤️

user9 WE ARE SHAKING MISS L/N

user10 flop flop flop flooooop 🤡

userA she really is so embarrassing lmao userB she needs to put on some fucking clothes because she looks like a slut 🤢

user11 can you imagine creating so much drama wherever you go, can't be able to keep your legs shut for once, leech off of your bf fame to promote your music video and still being the queen of flop 😂

user12 it is criminal how good they both look in this 🥵 when he had his hand lingering on her waist at the bar????? i was about to fucking COMBUST!!

userA what about at the rodeo??? when she runs her hands on the back of his shoulders and winks at him??? 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 userB this whole video is a religious imagery fr userC the little scenes of them in bed and around her room and house??? MADE ME REALIZE THAT I WAS NEVER AS STRAIGHT AS I THOUGHT I WAS 🤯😩

user13 the harries miss her so much 😭 but she looks so happy, she's absolutely glowing and I can't help but feel so happy for her ❤️ I hope he gives her the world because she deserves it so much ❤️🥺

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MARCH 14, 2021

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APRIL 1, 2021

vanityfair

♡ 3,170 likes

vanityfair When fame meets speed, love takes an exhilarating ride! #Y/NL/N and Formula 1 star Daniel Ricciardo heat up the cover of VF's April issue, sharing their rollercoaster ride of love, the challenges of distance, and electrifying plans that'll leave you wanting more! Their candid insights provide an inspiring portrayal of love amidst fame and busy schedules.

"Love is a beautiful and complex journey, and everyone's story is unique. While I can't speak directly to someone else's personal experiences, for me love has the power to heal and transform," the singer-actress tells VF.

In 2020, they experienced the global quarantine together in Australia, navigated the ups and downs of fame and long-distance relationship, celebrating wins and more.

View all 5,475 comments

yourinstagram Absolutely thrilled for this opportunity and be able to share it with my love. Grateful for each moment and excited for what's to come! ❤️

yourinstagram somebody call the fire department because we are smoking hot 🚒🔥

user 👆🏼 get yourself a woman that can do both 🤭 danielricciardo you lucky mf

[danielricciardo and others liked this]

user2 Who knew quarantine could lead to this much romance? 🥰

user3 Dreaming of falling in love during quarantine like Dan and Y/N. Can't relate, but happy for them! 😂💕

user4 suddenly i can't breath 🥵

user5 FUUUCK SHE'S WEARING HIS INITIAL 😭😭

userA smth smth "I want to wear his initial on a chain around my neck, not because he owns me but 'cause HE REALLY KNOWS ME. Which is more than they can say" userB in my eyes that's a big and subtle "f u" to the haters 🤭 userC UGH WHAT. A. WOMAN. 😩

user6 I can't decide if I wanna be Daniel or if I wanna be Y/N 🤯🥵

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MAY 9, 2021

yourinstagram

📍 Catalunya, España

♡ liked by rubendias, mclaren, danielricciardo and 6,452,325 others

yourinstagram you make me feel sweet like papaya 🧡

View all 20,975 comments

mclaren Rocking the papaya color like no other 🧡😍

user she slays in every color 🔥

danielricciardo can I have a taste por favor? 👀

user2 #TeamYN forever and always 🧡

user3 her first time on the paddock this year and she ATE 🥰

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MAY 16, 2021

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itsvittoriasousa has added to their story!

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yourinstagram and danielricciardo have added to their stories!

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─── Please don't forget to reblog and/or comment! ♡

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #latina!reader #famous!reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo social media au #daniel ricciardo instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #( agentstarkid's works )

154 notes · View notes

sukimii · 2 years

Text

Drunken haze

Tags: prohero!Bakugou, groping, cussing, consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, short image. Minors do not interact!

Clubs had never been Bakugou's favorite scene.

He hated how the establishment was filled with all types of people, dancing, overly sweating, drinking, being all loud without a care in the world.

He was already chugging his seventh drink when he saw you across the bar.

A pretty little thing, wearing a silk-like orange dress that reached your midthighs, showing so much skin it was tantalizing. A sparkly, fine chain was circling your waist, and it connected with a similar necklace. Your hair was perfectly syled, as if you went to a salon before stepping into the club, and he could make out your simple make-up, which did nothing but enhance your beauty.

So delectable, he wanted a piece.

He was planning on a quick approach, throw a couple of flirts and get you at his place to hopefully bury his face in between those pretty thighs of yours. But when you briefly locked eyes with him after your friend whispered something in your ear, Bakugou felt intimidated. Something so unusual of him.

The bartender, the one attending the VIP tables, manages to catch his attention.

"Would you like anything else?"

His friends are quick to order up some concoctions for their next rounds, and when the guy looks at him expectanlty, Bakugou huffs, eyes once again finding solace in your pretty sight, now laughing at something the girl beside you was saying.

"A whiskey for me, and a Platinum Passion for that chick" He motions with his chin, eyes not even once leaving your table. He misses how his friends are exchanging weird looks, or how the bartender nods, albeit a little taken aback.

"Uh, sure. Right away"

He waits, roughly five minutes, and when the bartender finally gives you the drink, Bakugou is already feeling cocky, much more so when you look up at him and smile. A pretty smile that he wants to turn into an open box of symphony, moaning for him. He revels into the attention, but is short lived when your friend taps your shoulder to continue whatever conversation you were having.

Then, the bartender approaches his table once again, this time bringing him the whiskey. He pulls out his wallet.

"Sir, the whisky is only five.."

" If 'ya get that hot chick to come home with me those are all 'urs" the bartender takes the quite scary-looking stash of money, and looks at the prohero as if he has grown another head, then looks at his friends in search of something.

"Oi, Kats" Mina slurs, mostly inhebrieted but not enough to not understand what was going on. " u drunk?"

Bakugou scoffs. He wasn't drunk. Tipsy, yes, but not drunk. What was so wrong with a guy wanting to get some? Especially when the night offered him such pretty little thing to ravage? You're cute, too pretty to pass on such opportunity. Tipsy or not, he wants you. Consensually, of course.

"Piss off. And you-" He almost snarls at the bartender, which is quick to straighten his back, "you got a job do to. Scram!"

The poor guy leaves in a hurry, and Bakugou goes back on sipping his drink, happy to see that you too seem to enjoy his offering.

"Bakubruh-" Kirishima too is slurring, tongue seemingly twisting in his mouth by the amount of alcohol he has consumed in the past three hours. "Youh'r a lost causs"

Bakugou rolls his eyes at his spoken grammar, deciding to ignore whatever his friend was trying to say. But when his eyes went back at your table, you weren't there, and he let out a string of curses.

He scared you off.

Of fucking course he scared you. A stranger bought you a drink and then sent a bartender to tell you that he wants to get in your pants- well, skirt. Who knows how many creeps had done the same thing, he should've of known better than this. He's a pro hero for crying out loud! And just now he stooped lower than any other scumbag-

"Hi, pretty boy" He turns around like almost burned, eyes shining at the realization that you decided to approach him. He wants to greet you back, but his throat seemed to temporarily go numb.

You're so, so much more prettier up close, and he couldn't wait for that coral lipstick to be imprinted all over his skin.

"Heard you want to take me home?" Your palms slide on his pecks, body barely bending over his shoulder to give a soft, barely felt kiss on the side of his neck. His palms are sweating like crazy, while his heart is doing flips at this turn of events.

"Fuck yeah princess" He gets up from the cushion, turning around to slide his hands over that flimsy cloth you call dress, and grabs a handful of your ass. Never had his hands ever felt at home like in that moment. So small compared to him, so delicate in comparison with his roughness, so sweet, so pliant, and so easy to have. He was going to ruin you.

As he walks out with you, wrapped around your back, hands never seeming to stop at feeling up your body, the bartender turns to his colleague, mouth agape and eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

"I swear... I've never seen someone so drunk before"

"What do you mean?"

"He paid me 10k to ask his wife to take him home, can you believe it?"

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader

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follows-the-bees · 6 months

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Everyone is talking about protective Ed in this episode (rightfully so) but what about protective Stede?

The minute the bow of Ned's violin touches Ed's face, he was done for. That simple string started the symphony of Stede's protectiveness & Ned was doomed.

Unless it's Stede or his past friends - to my knowledge - most times that Ed is touched is to humiliate or hurt him and without his permission.

After a lifetime of bullying, seeing the love of his life treated the same tips Stede over the edge and I'm not sure that, combined with hurting his crew, further insulting Ed and himself, that he was gonna be brought back from that edge. "I sorta blackout and my body takes over."

And the choice to use the violin, the instrument of annoyance and torture of Ed and his crew is loud. Stede didn't directly push Ned off the plank, Stede used Ned's own methods of killing against him.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd spoilers #our flag means death s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #stede bonnet #ofmd stede #ned low #blackbeard x stede #ed x stede #ofmd edward teach #edward x stede #ofmd season two meta analysis #meta analysis #ofmd meta

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mysticmunson · 1 year

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Maybe some Alpha!Eddie x Plussize!Omega!Reader comfort fluff/smut? Acquaintances to Lovers, she didn't think Eddie looked her way until it was discovered she was an omega. Reader is feeling low wondering if Eddie actually has feelings for her or if it's just because she finally presented. Turns out he always had a crush on her. He shows her he would've chosen her regardless.

from the sidelines: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

authors note: hi darling! thank you so much for the lovely ask, i'm a bigger girl myself so these hit close to home. i hope you enjoy! i also want to note that my work can be interpreted as any body type, but this piece does reference being bigger. i'm not sure how i feel about this so feedback is welcomed as always. (not proofread whoopsies)

warnings: mentions of being bigger than others, insecurities, brief smut (18+)

When going through a turbulent time, a good friend can be the remedy or the impairment, but you weren’t sure which one had occurred with your relationship with Eddie Munson.

Being the outcasts in middle school meant you stuck together, hushing the boys who teased him as he scared the girls who belittled you. Watching him grow was an unexplainable experience, not knowing the exact day when your platonic connection became romantic.

Change knowingly came when you both presented, him as an alpha and you as an omega. The knowledge of one another was by pure happenstance, but he didn’t hesitate to come to your house, assisting your situation. Already in a state of blatant desire, all his attributes became more prolific, noticing every line by his eye or fainted freckle on his shoulder.

The next few days were spent beside each other, comforting the other through affirmation or unspoken caresses. But as you faded from your heat, the knife in your chest began to twist, that there was a future beyond what was in front of you.

The delusion brought by nature during this time had blindsighted you to the impact this could have on your friendship, on your other friendships, and your mental health. The thoughts swarmed in your brain once Eddie pulled on his Metallica tee for a final time, kissing your head and going to his van.

The warmth of his skin still left you shuddering, recalling it like a forgotten song as he played every string of your body, a one sided symphony being left in its wake. His duty as composer satisfied his need to create as you reeled in the masterpiece at hand.

You hadn’t spoken to him since, taking every opportunity to avoid those soft brown eyes that were once so close to your own. However, the game of cat and mouse could only go on for so long, especially when he wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

Trudging to the door, it was the first knock you heard on your door all day, the sun now set as the star just began to shine. The pounding increased as your steps went in sync, prepared to politely scare away whoever decided to ruin your night of somber. As you threw the door open, the tall man with a mane of curls was before you with an unamused look, stepping inside without saying.

He looked at you, crossing his arms over his chest with furrowed brows, clearly not entertained by your avoidance. It made you feel two feet tall, glancing down at your feet, only to realize your state of undress in only small shorts and a thin tank top.

“Shit, Eddie, let me get changed.” You mumbled, walking quickly, but he followed right after you. Cutting you off to your room, he went in first, flopping on your unmade bed.

“Not like I haven’t seen you in less,” He sassed, propping himself up on his elbows, “Now tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

The silence laid thick enough to cut, emotions swirling around you as you tried to think of any congruent thought. His attitude would typically amuse you, but now it felt too real. As if this were an interrogation, the bright light beaming down on your face as you broke a sweat, barely able to see him under the pretense that you had been caught. An unspoken crime.

Walking to your dresser, you pulled on a baggy sweatshirt, despising the heat while aching for the coverage. The same eyes that were looking at the back of your head had seen every crevice and crease of you, but you doubted he truly perceived you as you did him.

The detail in which you find yourself yearning for him goes beyond skin, but it’s the part of him you can touch. The self-given tattoos that took residency on his arms, the dimple in his back, the way his hair poked through the pores of his face.

“Hey,” He broke you from your daze, “Talk to me, you’ve been ignoring me since last week.”

He sat at the edge of the bed now, pillow in his lap and, seemingly, much calmer. What you hated was the way it made you feel even lower, that your longing was so blind to him.

Rubbing your hands down your face, the burning within your skull made you curse yourself, struggling to control your emotions. The hitch in your breathing made his attention heighten, standing to pull your hands away to see your distress.

The combination of loneliness, affection, anxiety, and all the other unexplainable sensations brewed into anger. Pulling from his loose grip, you pointed at the door while looking towards your feet, tapping one to show your lack of patience.

“I’m not leaving, not until you say what’s wrong. What we did was completely natural.” He sighed, flopping his hands against his jean clad thigh, wishing things would resume to how they were.

But the past was as painful as the present for you, maybe even more so now knowing he had touched you. It irked you that maybe the past was so easy for him to go to because nothing had truly changed.

“Eddie, stop, you don’t get it.” You spoke with a waving voice, trying to reign in the racing beat of your heart.

He scoffed, making you lose your grip on the invisible rope, blood flushing to your cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and pain.

“What makes you think I don’t? We’re going through this together!” He emphasized, “I know it's different for alpha and omega’s, but we have each other.”

The band of false serenity snapped as your fists clenched, biting your lip for a brief moment before letting your words loose.

“Eddie! You don’t get it because you didn’t have to watch you leave!” You sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in momentary confusion, “You went into your van and you drove home, but I’m still there. I’m still at the night you arrived, the night you left, and every fucking minute since.”

Your usual calm tone was exchanged for a fierce one, but through the frustration, the agony rose to the surface. He felt frozen in place as you continued your rant, wishing he could take a peek inside your brain.

“I have spent years watching you look at girls and I supported you every single time even though it made me want to die. These girls looked perfect and only had to worry about if your personalities matched, not if they even liked bigger girls in the first place! And I was there every single time. Shit, I was here when you presented!”

The tears rolling down your cheeks cascaded like the words streaming out, losing any bit of secrecy you had from him, hoping the feeling of relief would wash over you soon.

“I was here and I felt so beautiful and amazing and worthy. It hurts like hell knowing that was a natural instinct for you when it was so much more for me.”

Before you could continue, arms wrapped around your body, securing you firmly to a warm chest you knew too well. One that you would fall into without hesitation, greeted by the familiar aroma that infiltrated your senses.

A palm stroked your hair, hushing your cries as you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling as if this were the last time. As if this were a pitiful action to cease the awkwardness, but there was nothing that could make Eddie seem anything less than accepting of you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, swaying you both to soothe you, but you tensed at his response.

All the years of friendship seemed to be dripping from both of your hands, piling into a mess on the floor that would dissolve without a trace, just a memory. The thought of letting him go and never seeing him again terrified you, enough to humiliate yourself just to get one more minute of his love.

“You mean so much to me and I fucking mean that. I wanted you before we presented and even more now, it felt like destiny, like a plot twist in DnD.” He gasped, his nerdiness making you laugh as you smacked his chest, looking up at him, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but the thought of you here, so needy, made me insane. More insane than usual.”

Hands gripped your hips as he pulled you to his body, “I need you, I wanted to ask you to be my omega, but I chickened out. I think you’re magnificent, like a beautiful princess from those old fairy tales.”

Unexplainably dorky and with a hint of self depreciation, nothing could have been more genuine from your curly haired knight in shining armor. The cracks in your confidence would take a while to patch up, there was now assistance in the job as mere words helped mend the destruction.

“I have thought about you every day. How gorgeous you are, how perfect we are when we- uh- made love? Fucked? Whatever, that was great.” He laughed walking you both over to the bed, having you lay down as he threw his shirt to the floor.

Noses skimming across one another, his brown eyes pierced your own, his own breath tickling the hairs above your cupid's bow. There was no time for insecurity as his lips met your own, melting together into an entanglement of words left unsaid.

As the clothes came undone into an accumulation on your childhood rug, your bodies mended as the doubt washed away, flooding into the forget worries of only minutes previous and longer.

“I love you, I’m sorry I’m shitty with my words and didn’t say it sooner.” He breathed out, stretching you as he rutted into your cunt as you elicited a moan.

“I love you too.” You whimpered, cupping his face while your thumbs ran across the hair protruding through, scratching the pads of your fingertips.

It felt like you were creating a work of art as he made love to you, as if no one had felt so strongly about one another as the two of you felt right now. That no matter what occurred in the world outside of your home, it wouldn’t amount to the pure passion filling your bodies.

Finishing quickly with him right behind you, his body felt limp against yours as his arms shook, making you giggle that was music to his ears. With a wet kiss to your nose, he stared into your eyes and wondered why it took him so long to ask in the first place.

He had never felt this close to anyone, ever since joining forces in middle school, and he didn’t plan on anyone else. He had considered others, but no matter what, he couldn’t wait to run home and call you. To hear your voice on the opposite end of the fuzzy phone line, reminding him that you were always there.

Truthfully, even if you hadn’t presented as an omega, he thinks he would’ve done anything in his power to adapt. He wasn’t ready to move through adulthood without you and if there was anything he could do about it, neither of you would have to find out.

tagging some who were interested in my other alpha content :) @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple

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