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obsessivevoidkitten · 8 months

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Your Boyfriend Owen

Yandere Male x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon/dubcon, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, chaining, general yandere behavior, social awkwardness, creepy staring, mild scent kink.) Word Count: 2.5k (This was supposed to be a small couple hundred word drabble... oopsiedoodles...)

It was the first day of your last year in college.

At the end of class there was a student lingering at his desk. He was your age and of average build, maybe a bit on the skinny side, with disheveled medium length black hair that was a bit wet with sweat and glasses that were a bit crooked.

He seemed really distraught and panicky as he typed on his laptop.

You introduced yourself and asked him if he needed help with something.

He went silent and awkwardly stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“Uh… hi, I’m Owen.”

He was obviously not used to people approaching and talking to him.

I-I don’t know how to get assignments and submit them on this updated online portal we have this year! I just cannot figure it out!”

You leaned over his desk and took a look at his laptop, you happily showed him how to navigate the new system. You didn’t blame Owen for being so high strung, the classes were tough and this new portal was pretty confusing.

What you didn’t realize was that in this simple act of helping him you had made the biggest mistake of your life.

Owen was stunned that you were helping him. You must have liked him! No one was this nice to a random stranger.

As you leaned over his desk to use his laptop he noticed you smelled so nice.

If he hadn’t already been sweating from his previous issues with the student portal you may have noticed the blush that crept across his face.

When you finished he thanked you nervously before you left for your dorm.

There was plenty of foot traffic to and from the dorms, classes, and the food places on campus. It was very easy for Owen to go unseen as he followed you to your dorm.

He… just wanted to make sure you got there safely. And also wanted to see where you lived.

Over the course of the next few weeks Owen you constantly caught Owen staring at you in class and he never failed to greet you when you sat down or try to talk to you when you left. You were always polite but… it was a little creepy to be honest, but you ignored it because it was pretty harmless. He just had a crush on you.

It was far from harmless though, during the time of day that you had classes and he didn’t he would sneak into your dorm and take little “treasures” that he was sure you wouldn’t miss.

A used pair of underwear that still had your scent from the day before. Maybe a shirt if it wasn’t one of your favorites, he knew which ones you wore most often.

As far as he was concerned he was your boyfriend, even if you didn’t know it yet, and good boyfriends noticed small details like favorite clothes.

He also took note of super important information like what food seemed to be your favorite, wherever you ate lunch he was sure to be in the crowd watching you.

Things probably would have continued on like that for a lot longer, just a creepy stalker pining for you, but then one day you helped someone else in class.

They didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as you! He was fuming, he clenched his hands so hard that his nails bruised his palms. To grace such a nobody with your assistance drove him beyond jealousy.

But that did not even compare to when he saw you the next day eating lunch with the slime ball.

Why would you do that to him? Surely you liked him, not this piece of shit. He must have forced himself into your space and you were just too sweet to push him away.

Owen had to do something before things escalated too far. And he didn’t have to wait too much longer to have his opportunity.

There was a huge Halloween party coming up and he knew for a fact you would be going.

He went with a masquerade ball costume, complete with an intricately decorated Venetian mask.

When you were at the party he waited for the perfect moment to make his move. He stared at you the entire time, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment. Even if he hadn’t been planning something he wouldn’t have been able to take his eyes off you. You had decided to go as a pale faced vampire, it made him wonder what your teeth on his neck would feel like.

When you were all alone, and after your judgment was a bit off from a few drinks Owen came over and introduced himself and started chatting you up before offering you a drink.

He was a bit of an oddball, but he was always nice right? What was the harm?

You accepted the drink and soon everything was a blur. You weren’t rendered entirely unconscious, just helpless, compliant, and a touch clingy.

Owen escorted you out of the party with you leaning on him heavily, his face was red beneath his mask, his darling was relying on him for support! Just how it should always be~

Not many people at the party knew you, and even if they had they wouldn’t have thought much of you leaving in this manner, you just appeared to be a little drunk and leaving with someone who you trusted.

Owen stroked your cheek gently and guided you gently into the passenger seat of his car.

It was really happening, he was taking his love home.

He lived with his parents, in the large basement of their house. He was the true epitome of a basement dwelling freak.

You clung to him and nuzzled into his neck as he brought you inside. You didn’t know why, but you felt so needy.

He sat you down softly on the bed, he had changed the color of the sheets to match yours. He wanted you to feel at home and get adjusted to being here as quickly as possible and thought it may make the transition easier.

To that end he had also hung copies of the same posters you had hanging in your dorm, had the bookshelf filled with every book that he had ever seen you reading, and while everyone else was at the party he had even managed to snag a few things from your room.

Most notably your Nintendo switch and your blankets. They were drenched in your scent~

In your drugged state you couldn’t quite make sense of your surroundings… it looked kinda similar to your room… but not…

“Wh-wherrre aare w-w-weee?” You couldn’t speak without slurring your words.

“We’re home! Th-this is where you live now!

That didn’t seem right… did it? It felt a bit off… But why would this nice man lie to you? He gave you a drink and a ride… home.

“You’ll live here with me and I will take good care of you!”

“That’sss sooo n-nice of you”

Owen smiled, he knew you may feel differently once the drugs wore off, but he had taken precautions just in case. What mattered was that you were here, you weren’t leaving, and you’d eventually admit that you liked him and wanted to be here with him.

He sat down beside you on the bed and wiped the pale makeup from your face gently, you leaned into his touch with a cute sigh that made his heart swell and his cock twitch.

You were so perfect. Eventually you would be like this without the drugs, he just needed to be patient and train you until you saw that you needed him as much as he needed you. He had wanted to wait until that point to make love with you.

But… you were acting so sweet and needy. So malleable. And he could tell that you really needed it, your face was flushed and you kept grinding your crotch slowly against your arm that you had between your legs.

You stared up at him in confusion as he began to peel away his clothing, his cock bouncing free. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Then he carefully took off what you were wearing, slowly. He wanted to savor the moment. The person he loved more than anything else in the entire world was about to be revealed completely to him.

“So p-perfect~”

“Whaaaa are you doooinnng?” You looked up at him while not even noticing you were already grinding into your arm again.

He rubbed your thighs gently before replying.

“I’m g-going to help you with this,” he said as he caressed your crotch.

You blushed and smiled, in that moment all you could think that Owen was just so nice. He had already taken you home and now he was going to help you with your arousal too!

You spread your legs to allow for easier access as he fumbled with the lube.

He was considerably more nervous than before.

“I-it’s my first time, I hope I’m okay~ I-if I’m not we can pr-practice until I get it right!”

Owen applied the slick fluid liberally to his cock, where it mixed with the precum that his cock was practically drooling, then he scooted you to the edge of the bed and knelt between your legs, using his tongue to get you nice and stimulated.

The scent and flavor of you was almost enough to make Owen cum almost immediately, he was more drugged by your smell than you were on actual drugs. He moaned loud, taking it all in.

Before he caused either of you to orgasm before the main event he managed to pry himself away and apply lube to your entrance, sliding in a couple of fingers and twirling them around inside you.

You bucked and moaned, desperate to have more inside you as the lube mixed with all the saliva he had deposited inside you.

“Neeed morrrre,” You started crying a bit, you were just so desperate. You were like a bitch in heat and nothing would take care of it except Owen’s cock.”

“S-so needy! Don’t cry honey bun, I will take care of you!”

You tried to get your sobbing under control as he kissed you deeply.

“Gosh, y-you’re pretty even when you’re crying…

Then he stood beside the bed and propped your legs up on his shoulders. He rubbed the tip around your hole a bit, wanting to ingrain this moment into his memory for the rest of his life, before grabbing your hips and plunging his entire length inside of you in one movement.

The two of you gasped in unison, finally you felt that yearning void in you start to fill and he was inside of you.

It was much better than he had imagined in the fantasies he had so fervently jerked off to.

The heat, the tightness, your insides were enveloping his cock in pure bliss. And the smell of your sweat mingled with his and the scent of sex was just indescribable.

He slid in and out rhythmically, bending down and biting your neck as he did so. Claiming it as he sped up faster and faster.

Owen couldn’t help not lasting too long, and luckily for him you couldn’t either in your drugged state.

You cried out as you came hard, the force of your climax shaking through your body, pushing Owen over the edge. He filled you with plenty of cum before wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

“I love you so much!”

Your intoxicated mind felt the perfect response to this was, “I looo-love youuu toooo.”

When you woke up you were clothed and all cleaned up, and you could scarcely remember a single thing after the party. You had an awful headache and it took you a few moments to realize that this was certainly not your bedroom.

You felt someone spooning you from behind.

Owen. Owen was spooning you!

You must have gotten black out drunk and hooked up with him.

The thought made you feel sick to your stomach.

You immediately jumped out of bed and went to put your shoes on when you finally saw it.

A long thick chain that led to a shackle around your ankle.

You screamed.

Owen woke up instantly and tried to console you. He had been worried this may be your reaction.

“C-calm down honey b-bun. Just let me expla-”

“Don’t call me honey bun you sick freak!” You shouted the words with as much venom as you could muster, with tears threatening to roll down your face at any moment.

“HELP! HELP PLEASE!! SOMEON-”

Owen grabbed you from behind and put his hand over your mouth, using his other hand to hold you close to his shirtless form.

You still yelled, but it was pretty muffled. You could only hope someone had heard your initial outburst.

“Shh baby, calm down, it will be okay I promise~”

He kissed the top of your head and you tried to shake him off but you were still weak from last night, and he was stronger than you had anticipated. You finally went still and silently cried, your voice too strained now to say much of anything.

Then you heard footsteps coming from above you, they got louder as they approached. Did he have roommates? Had they heard your plea for help? You allowed a spark of hope to ignite inside of you.

You couldn’t see it, but Owen was blushing deeply.

“O-oh jeez, I didn’t want you to meet my parents y-yet. Not until you felt b-better.”

A man and a woman came down the steps. They both had features that reminded you of Owen.

The woman spoke while the man stood behind her, “Just what the HELL is going on at this early hour!? The sun is barely out and I have to work later tod-”

She met your eyes, only just now realizing that her son had someone in his arms. You could see her gaze follow the chain that bound your leg to the wall.

Seeing your tear streaked face, red and puffy from crying, shaking from fear, she gave a look of sympathy. Your hope grew. Would she help you escape her loony son? Your sore throat strained to form words, but they only came out muted and garbled through Owen’s hand.

“Owen! You didn’t tell us you were dating! Honestly, with how awkward you are, I was a bit afraid you’d never take a liking to someone.”

Then she looked at you again.

“You’ll be okay, I know it’s hard at first, but you’ll settle right in.”

“I-i made sure the shackle was lined with something s-soft so it doesn’t hurt them. J-just like you told me how you did when y-you started dating dad!”

You saw the man bite his lip and gaze down sheepishly.

Owen was in his mid 20s, if his age was any indication… if he was conceived when his parents first met… then you were going to be here for a very long time.

#yandere x reader #yandere boyfriend #yandere scenario #male yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #My OCs #My OC Owen #yandere imagine

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cuubism · 4 months

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crossing over dream and hob with aziraphale and crowley continues to be the funniest thing ever to me. aziraphale and crowley would obviously know about the endless, but it seems like most people/entities who aren't literally at endless level don't interact with them much or actively try to avoid them. even to a demon and angel the personification of all dreaming would probably seem insanely powerful, and i can only imagine they would rather not get involved with him.

then there's hob, who's basically just a guy, could easily have run into aziraphale or crowley in 600 years, especially once it became evident he was more long-lived than most humans, probably loves being able to have some friends where he doesn't have to lie about being immortal. az and crowley are like yeah that's just robert he's weird but harmless.

and one day hob's like hey you guys should meet my boyfriend he's immortal and not-human too :) and az and crowley are like sure sure yeah whatever (assuming hob found himself a vampire or something, speaking of which they should probably make sure it doesn't try to kill him--) so they go to get tea with him and his boyfriend and it's just fucking dream of the endless sitting at the table.

the fact that dream is currently feuding with hell just adds an extra little bit of spice to the encounter.

#just 4 totally normal guys you know #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #aziraphale #crowley

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millienia · 29 days

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hi !! m not sure if u take rqs but if u do ,, do u mind writing the first years x a rllyyy short reader? any gender is fine !! <3

i didn’t expect you to be so tiny

synopsis: the first years with a.. really short prefect.

gn!yuu

ACE TRAPPOLA

this guy is average (i suppose) height, so he’d probably laugh right in your face about your height.

“HAHA bro how are you that tiny😂😂” coded

you, as a member of the short community, want to do nothing more than yank his hair.

smh.

if you needed to grab something from a shelf taller than you (most shelves in NRC), he’d probably watch you struggle for a hot minute and then laugh at you — only after that routine is he willing to help you out.

“loud sigh, fineeee, since you need my help so bad, i GUESS i’ll help you out”, he says.

though with his reaction, you think you’d much rather have just climbed onto a chair and done it yourself.

you are sick and TIRED.

DEUCE SPADE

he’s not as.. assholey about it as ace, but you can definitely tell he’s aware of your shortness.

the moment you stand in front of a shelf that is, in fact, taller than you — he’s already behind you and has the item you needed in his hands, smiling warmly.

you died.

he carries stuff for you because apparently, ‘you might not be able to carry it! because you’re, well..’

you appreciate it, of course, but —

— you can carry a single grocery bag, okay?

he underestimates you quite a bit because of your height, which is most of the time annoying, but it’s funny sometimes.

JACK HOWL

he’s like 6’3” what the fuck. and considering you’re.. cough cough really short, it’d probably be funny seeing you two standing next to eachother.

the contrast would probably bewilder some people, add-in the fact he’s really muscular and then it’d even be creepy to some.

like deuce, he’d probably underestimate you to some extent because of your.. rather diminutive height.

he’d have to look straight down to see you, and you’d have to crane your neck up to see him, which is honestly sad.

he doesn’t seem like he’d be hard to deal with, though.

he’d just sort of, not really mention the difference.

EPEL FELMIER

short people solidarity WOO!!!

he’d be shaking, crying, shitting, literally all the bodily functions, when he first meets you.

there’s someone in the school who is shorter than him!!

he’d be helping you grab things from shelves, resting his arm on your shoulder or head, and other things.

literally anything to validate himself in the fact he is taller than someone his age.

he’d tease you for being short, but if anyone full-on bullied you about it, he’d beat them up.

lmao.

the day you wear heels that make you taller than him is the day of his downfall.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

okay, we have to remember what he grew up being taught, alright?

this man is a KNIGHT. bro is CHIVALROUS.

regardless of your height, he’d be helping you carry and grab stuff.

but when you’re short— and much shorter than him—, his, uh, coddling is amped up a bit.

“as a knight, i must protect you! especially because you are so harmless!”

you, who literally survived through multiple overblots: 🧍.

it’s sweet, though.

the effort is definitely there!

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lunatic-pudge · 6 months

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Scout, Pyro, Demo, Medic, Sniper, and Spy Relationship Headcanons

Can you tell which ones are my absolute favorite:')

Scout

• Unsurprisingly, it takes him a long time to get over his infatuation of Ms. Pauling (I'm 110% convinced she's a lesbian), so you must be basically a deity to be catching his attention (though he'd the type to flirt with EVERYONE)

• Golden retriever energy, also youngest child energy. Constantly wants to do everything for you but also needs constant attention. He's also used to be getting picked on by the other mercs and his older brothers so he'll be going to you for validation. But he also doesn't want to appear weak so it'll take some time to break through his (fragile) shell.

• Love language: physical touch and acts of services. Will be constantly trying to act like a macho man for you but will also beg to hold your hand. Cuddles are constant. He may not be good at being a handyman, but my gods he's gonna try his darndest. Plz tell him that he did a good job, he's trying his best.

• He's the best person to go to if you wanna go on randon and unexpected adventures. One minute you're both in Teufort, the next your across country at the beach up east coast. Poor thing gets yelled at a lot for just uping and leaving without notice.

• Local snack dealer. Ma is always making sure that he's got sweets on hand. His room has care packages from her with some of the most wholesome letters from her and the box if FILLED to the brim with sweets, treats, and soda

Pyro

• My little baby boo, a wholesome partner who would kill for you. Can get jealous very easily so you might have to hold them back from committing manslaughter.

• Love language: quality time and gift giving. Time with Pyro is time well spent. Constantly just wants to be in the same room with you. They don't do well when you're not around. Also loves to give gifts. Most of their gifts consit of stuffed animals and handmade drawings. Your room will be filled with gifts from this goofball.

• In my opinion, they're a lot more there than people realize. Some days are better than others though. They were literally CEO of an engeneering company! And I believe they made all their weapons to but I could be wrong on that. Homie is definitely reliable when they're having a good day, but on the bad days, just sit and spend time with them. You don't gotta say anything, just knowing your right there beside them is enough conformation to know you'll always be there no matter what.

• You two are little troublemakers. You'll constantly be up to no good with them. It seems like harmless fun, but you've both almost burnt down the base five times just this month!

Demoman

• Probably one of the best lovers you could have out of all the mercs (aside from Engie, they're competing for the number one spot). I'm deducting points cause of the nonstop alcohol consumpution. :(

• But he is a happy goofy dunk so thank gods for that. Always happy to be here. Very attentive, caring, cuddly, overall a good person to date or even just be friends with.

• Cause the constant alcohol ruined a good portion of his memory (and Medic as well), he writes down every little detail of you that he can in a little journal he secretly keeps on his person. Important dates, likes, dislikes, ect. The man has it on file in case of emergencies.

• Love language: gift giving and act of services. He works three jobs and makes over 5 mil a year, he's LOADED. He's gonna buy you the world if you ask. Definitely good at money managing so he never worried at how much gifts cost. He's also gonna try his darndest to help you out with any problems, though it can be a bit hard when you're constantly drunk. Hims trying his best, okay?

• Wants his mom to approve of you but knows how critical she is of him. Poor baby has some self-esteem issuses cause of her so please give him lots of love and support. It's hard when your mom never has anything nice to say about you and compares you to everyone else. It's a neverending struggle. :(

Medic

• You're definitley into weird and questionable people if you like this man, and that means we're best friends now. :D

• He will ask you to help him out with surgeries and organizing his lab. You're hims little nurse. He'd probably (absolutley) be getting you a nurse outfit with his symbol on it.

• He's very much the possessive type. What's his is HIS, no if, ands, buts, or questions about it. Would put a tracker in you so he knows where you are at all times, but someone would have to talk him out of doing it... for now...

• Constantly talks about you to his birds, if any on them ever have babies, he's naming one after you. Would get you a stuffed dove plushie to cuddle with at night when he can't be there with you

• Love language: physical touch and quality time, you're ALWAYS welcomed in his lab, in fact, he expects you to be there with him. Is the type to ask you to grab something and will graze his hands against yours when grabbing it from you. (then give a shit eating smirk afterwards) He'd also be the type to stand VERY close to you, and stand behind you in an intimidating way to keep others from talking to you.

Sniper

• This man is my all time baby boy so I have LOTS to say about him and how much I love him :')

• Is someone who takes a while to get close to, especially in a romantic way. He's just a shy little boy who's used to being alone. But isn't introverted, just has introverted tendencies (you literally see him hanging out with some of the other mercs in Expiration Date)

• Love language: words of affirmations and physical touch, he sucks at verbally saying how he feels about you but will leave cute little love notes around for you to find. He's also VERY touched-starved so he will just flat out lay on top of you if you let him. Loves hearing you say how much you love him, plz just hold his hands and say how much he means to you, he might just cry from it.

• Is also someone who goes on random adventures, but they're usually just out and away from everyone. But I could see him taking you to a zoo or aquarium to look at the animals. But you're not allowed to go to a Humane Society cause you'll be walking out with all the animals they have and raising them like they're your babies,

Spy

• Another gremlin who takes a long time to warm up to you. He's a grumpy old man who's never really been with someone in such a serious light (aside from Scout's Ma)

• Love language: gift giving and words of affirmation, another merc who would buy you the world if you asked. Will only buy you the best of the best and will throw hands with someone if it's not up to his standards. He could go on about his love for you. His words sound like poetry. You'd wake up with a bouquet of roses and one of the most beautiful love letters anyone has ever read.

• Is 50/50 on PDA, he'll wrap an arm around your waist, call you beautiful, and give you a peck on the cheek in front of others but that's about it. Any extreme PDA is to be in private or you're getting a scolding.

• Would definitely help you learn French. He's way more patient with you than anyone else. You've seen him yell and insult every merc a couple times (Scout getting the brunt of it), but he refuses to ever say anything negative about you

• Definitely the bragging type. He'll put you on a pedestal and go on about how gorgeous you are. How you were crafted by gods, and so on. He thinks he's better than everyone else so if you're with him, than you're right up there with him.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 pyro #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 demoman #tf2 demoman x reader #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 spy #tf2 spy x reader

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cutielando · 1 month

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conflict of interest ~ rafe cameron

my masterlist

Everyone on the island knew you were the Kook Princess. That title had long been taken from Sarah, specifically ever since you started dating Rafe Cameron, the renowned Kook Prince.

Life with Rafe was everything you had ever imagined it to be and so much more.

He took care of you, made sure you never lacked anything, spoiled you rotten with gifts, spa days, holidays, boat days, movie nights, adventures, everything you could ever think of.

You two loved each other more than anything, your shared love proving to be a force to be reckoned with.

However, not everybody believed that what you and Rafe had was unbreakable. Amongst that crowd was also Topper, Rafe's best friend.

Topper knew how Rafe was, they had known each other ever since they were little kids. He knew how possessive and protective Rafe could get over things, especially over you.

But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't help the way your presence made him feel, the way butterflies would just go wild inside of his stomach every time he would hear your laugh or see your smile, he would just go numb every time he would smell your perfume, the sweet flowery scent he had come to obsess over.

Breaking up with Sarah meant he got to see other people, explore the island a little more. And the lucky bee had been you.

You didn't like Topper. Not in the slightest. You had always found him a little weird and too much of a soft puppy dog who couldn't think for himself.

Your heart and everything belonged to Rafe and only to Rafe.

Of course, the both of you had seen the way Topper would stare at you at parties or when you would hang out with the other Kooks at someone's house. The way he would be way too eager to help you with anything just so he could get some time alone with you.

Rafe had been furious at first, of course. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of someone stealing you away from him. That was just not an option. He loved you way too much to let himself lose you.

Especially to someone like Topper.

Which is why the current situation you had found yourself in was not favorable for anybody.

Rafe had only left you alone for maybe 2 minutes while he went to the kitchen to get a refill for the both of you. You had been left talking to a good friend of yours when Topper suddenly appeared in front of you, drinking out of a red cup and swaying from side to side.

"Heyyyyy, Y/N" he was slurring so badly that you could barely understand what he was saying.

"Hi, Top" you smiled at him and redirected your attention back to the conversation you had been having with your friend.

That didn't seem to satisfy his need for conversation, because the next thing you know he was pulling your arm so he could get you to face him.

"Can we talk? I've got somethin I've been meanin to tell ya" he said, his grip not letting up.

You looked around, your eyes searching for Rafe. You knew Topper was harmless, but you were very uncomfortable with the way he was touching you and you knew Rafe would cause a scene if he saw it.

"Topper, I really don't think it's a good idea right now" you said, plastering a convincing fake smile on your face while subtly trying to get him to let go of your arm.

Your attempt proved unsuccessful.

"Come on, don't be a bitch. Rafe doesn't even have to know about this" Topper continued to insist, downing the remaining alcohol from his cup before grabbing your other arm. "I've been meaning to confess something to you, way before you and Rafe got together, I just didn't have the courage to do it. I think you need to know how I feel" his eyes were staring at you so hopeful, like a puppy in the rain.

It made you feel a little bad, but once you saw Rafe over Topper's shoulder marching through the crowd, his face contorted in anger, you knew a fight was most probably about to go down.

"You better watch what you're going to say very carefully" Rafe threatened from behind Topper, his eyes trained on the grip the blonde had on you.

You could see Topper's demeanor change, even drunk knowing that he shouldn't have even thought about messing with Rafe's girlfriend.

"Yo man, I was just playing a little, you know how I get at parties and shit" Topper finally let go of your arms before turning around to face your boyfriend, trying to talk himself out of the shitty situation he had found himself in.

"No, no, no. I'm curious now. What was the important thing that you wanted to tell my girlfriend while I wasn't here?" Rafe crossed his arms, his stance all that more threatening.

By this moment, you had backed down from the two with your friend, watching their interaction closely. You knew Rafe was about to lose his shit any moment, and you also knew better than to get yourself involved while he was this tense.

"I was just trying to make conversation and keep her company while you were away. You know how many creeps are at these parties" Topper slurred, sniffing and searching Rafe's eyes for any indication as to what he was thinking.

"Topper, I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what you were doing with my girlfriend before I beat your ass so hard you won't feel your body" Rafe's voice had now turned downright dangerous, which you surprisingly found hot.

"I wasn't trying to do anything, man, she's yours and I would never-" Topper couldn't finish his sentence before Rafe punched him in the face, making Topper drop down on the floor in front of you.

Rafe kneeled down over his body and started punching him repeatedly, each time repeating "Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend" until he had to be physically pulled away from him.

One look in your direction and you knew your night had come to an end. You took his hand and let him lead you to his truck, not minding the blood that had transferred to your hand.

"Are you okay?" he questioned once you were both in the safe space of his car, his breathing now back to normal.

You nodded, looking worriedly at his bloody knuckles.

"I should be asking you that" you mumbled as you took his right hand in yours, inspecting the bruises already starting to form.

He shrugged, seemingly not in any pain which was a relief to you. "I'm fine, Topper has it worse than me. I'm just glad nothing happened and I came in time"

You leaned over the console and kissed his cheek, showing him that you weren't mad at him for getting into yet another fight.

"My knight in shinning armor. What would I do without you?" you joked, but there was truth behind your words. You really didn't know what you would do without him.

"I love you" he kissed your palm, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I love you too, my big bad boy"

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brayneworms · 3 months

Text

prompt: l lawliet + food play + pink

wc. 2.8k. gn!reader, foodplay, virgin!l, handjobs, sliiiight come eating, reader is a wet cat in a cardboard box kinda, safe sane and consensual, no real power dynamics.

L contextualises things in the way he sees the world.

Strings of numbers, statistics, behavioural patterns that he's memorised to a 'T' until he can tell guilt from the aversion of an eye or fury from the remnants of nails pressed into the palm of someone's hand. It's why maybe something like sex or desire is a struggle for him. It's not that he doesn't understand it, it's more like he doesn't see the—the need for it, or whatever. You chalk it up to him being extremely busy and also probably totally asexual and don't think about it.

(Don't think about it much.)

It sort of surprises you that it's you he corners with his questions about. Maybe he's more embarrassed than he lets on—as it is, he looks cool as a cucumber save for the faintest shade of pink across his cheekbones. There's no way he would escape a conversation about it from anyone on the squad without a degree of ragging. Misa would squeal like a pig if L dared to broach the topic with her, you're sure. Matsuda would blush bright red and trip over all his words, and Aizawa would probably stare at him like he'd set his firstborn on fire.

And Light is Light. He probably knows little more than L, for all the airs he puts on.

So it's you he comes to. When it first starts, you think it has something to do with a case or lead he's hunting. Tell me, have you had sex before?

Perched like a frog, licking whipped cream off his finger. You don't know if he's doing to be provocative or not; don't know which is worse, that he's aware of what he's doing or not.

"This isn't exactly proper workplace conversation L."

A flicker of a smile. Cheeky, omniscient. "Feel free to report me to HR, in that case."

You do answer—honestly and concisely, if not with a shade of awkwardness. He's essentially your boss. But L seems so far removed from the worlds of sexuality and desire that it seems harmless, occupational, and eventually it stops feeling embarrassing. Out of nowhere—what is the purpose of restrains in an intimate context? Why do you think some people like to feel as though they have no control in the bedroom? Would you say that visual pornography has given watchers unrealistic expectations of actual intercourse?

One night, the two of you alone in front of a big glowing screen, turning to him and asking. "Why do you ask me this stuff, anyway? Is it for a case?"

"No," he says neutrally. A quick glance from his dark eyes you could almost describe as coy. "I'm just... curious."

"Curious," you echo, deadpan. "You?"

"Does that surprise you?" he murmurs. You almost feel that your honest answer—yes—would be insulting now, so instead you just shrug and mumble something incoherent under your breath. "You're not completely wrong. I thought having a better understanding of things like sex and power dynamics would be beneficial in the long run. Most people have a greater knowledge of it than me, which—puts me at a disadvantage." He says these last words with an air of revulsion, as though the very concept of knowing less than someone sours in his mouth, and you chuckle at his childishness.

"That makes sense." You pause. Wonder if you're reading this all wrong, then barrel ahead anyway. "Wouldn't actually experiencing it for yourself lend a better understanding than anything else, though?"

L's eyebrow raises. His smile has vanished, leaving him bug-eyed and unreadable. "What are you suggesting?"

He's not stupid, and you're not subtle. He knows exactly what you were suggesting. The fact that he's trying to get you to go into more detail rather than firing you on the spot is probably a good sign, and further than you expected to get. You squirm in your seat.

"You know. It's like being told about how something feels rather than knowing," you say awkwardly. "I'm just—can I ask—"

"It only seems fair," L says slowly. "After I've been badgering you with my own questions for so long." His chair spins; he rests his wrists on his rucked-up knees, fingers steepled in front of him. "Please."

Hot-faced, you spin your chair aimlessly. "Okay, well, uh—have you? I mean, before?"

L hesitates before he shakes his head, an almost imperceptible twitch that has his dark hair floating. You swallow the sudden large dry lump in your throat.

"Okay. So. Probably somewhere to start," you mumble.

L seems to consider this. "Would you be willing?"

You don't have the right to be surprised, with all the dancing around the subject, but you are, still. You choke on your spit and fly around to look at him, which is a mistake. His gaze is so dark and intense, and you think he can see right through you before you even open your mouth to answer.

"I'm not—" you stammer, with no idea what you're going to say. "I mean—"

"I had assumed you would be," L goes on calmly, but you catch the slight flicker of his eyes, a ghost of uncertainty that makes your chest squeeze. "If I have read your responses incorrectly, though, feel free to forget I asked. I can guarantee no awkwardness tomorrow."

"It's not that," you blurt. L blinks at you, go on. "It's just... do you have any idea what you're, you know. Into? Where to start?"

L's eyes flicker, the barest furrow knitted between his brows. You can tell he hasn't thought too hard about it. "What would you suggest?" he asks, curling his long fingers over his knees.

You swallow. "Well... anything you like the idea of, I guess. Something familiar, to ease you into it."

L's eyes roll over to his desk, where a perfectly glistening slice of strawberry cake waits for him. Pink sponge and halved red berries, topped with pale pink cream. "Familiar," he echoes. "I may have a suggestion."

So you feed L a strawberry just to get started.

Hold it up. It's distinctly awkward; L just stares at it for a moment, the berry dusted with frosting that glistens between your fingers. You tell him, "If you're not comfortable with this, sex is probably going to be—"

He leans forward and plucks the fruit from between your fingers; you feel the barest ghosting of teeth, the sweep of his tongue sharp and curious against the pads of your fingers before he leans back again. You watch the motions of his jaw and throat as he chews and swallows. Pins you with his headlamp stare, wide and dark.

You deconstruct the strawberry cake carefully, removing the berries and setting them to the side. Cast a look over at him. "Take off your shirt?"

L twists the hem of this shirt for a few moments before removing it. It feels so strange to see him devoid of clothing, like a knight removing their armour. Pale ribs, pinched waist. He's not whipcord-thin like you had imagined—there's lean muscle packed under the skin, his stomach flat and somewhat soft. It flexes almost nervously when you look at it. He reclines back on his bed without being told, bracing his weight onto his elbows, legs dangling off the side.

"You sure about all this?" you ask, glancing from the smooth planes of his white skin—shit—to the plate of crumbling pink dessert. "Didn't think you'd be into, you know. All the mess."

"I have a shower," L says reflexively.

You take that as permission to approach with the plate. You place the strawberry halves in a red dotted line, starting at his clavicle, watching him shiver and flex at the cold touch. Down—one at the bottom of his ribs, one above his bellybutton, one at his naval just above the low sling of his jeans. He's started to flush, prettily pink down his chest. It makes you slightly dizzy.

"Okay. So. Okay." You try not to feel so nervous, but it's more like you feel out of place, or time, or space. It feels surreal, basically. Standing between L's legs with your fingers stained pink from fruit and frosting. Him looking up at you like that, all big dark round eyes and slightly parted lips. Damn it. You take a deep, steadying breath. "Okay, so, I'll start now if you're okay. And just say if you don't want—if you want to stop, or if you don't like anything, just say, okay?"

"I understand the basic premises of consent, if that's what you're trying to affirm." The words are all L, but there's an element of breathlessness to them.

"Just making sure we're clear," you mutter. You lean forward and smooth a palm over his collarbones. They're sharp, they jut up to meet your hand like cut diamond, and you hear and see his breath hitch, which is slightly intoxicating. His skin is warmer and softer than you thought it would be. You run your hands over his shoulders and neck, which he squirms away from with a wrinkled nose.

"No neck?" you ask.

He shakes his head. So no neck.

Once you're done exploring this part of his body, you lean forward, close your lips around the strawberry and bite the end of it, sinking your teeth into the flesh. Pink juice runs down your chin; L's eyes follow it, transfixed, as you tilt your head forward and push your mouthful against his lips. They part unquestioningly, and you push the strawberry into his mouth with your tongue. Your lips brush together, tantalising and sweet with sugar. A mimic of a kiss, a palimpsest of intimacy. You don't want to overwhelm him, anyway.

This goes on; your hands over his chest next, the soft pectorals. An experimental brush of your thumb over his left nipple that makes his whole body shudder. He's so sensitive, reacting to every prod and touch and tweak with a jerk and a shiver. Gooseflesh blooms up his skin, pebbling his nipples, and when you tweak the other one gently he lets out a choked sound.

Finding the strawberry nestled under his ribs. Taking it between your teeth and passing it to him. His face gets pinker with each one. Stomach, concave, flexing with every hard breath. A ticklish spot over his belly button. Strawberry, bite, pass. The flex of his jaw as he chews.

Fingers over his waist, indenting the skin as much as you dare. You try not to think of how easily he would bruise. Brushing your touch over his lower abdomen makes his breath catch again. You find the strawberry, hold it between your lips. L cranes his neck, searching this time—he thinks he knows the game, has memorised the steps, found the pattern, the sequence. He doesn't know that the best sex is the unpredictable kind. This time, you press your lips against him and when your tongue pushes the strawberry into his mouth it stays there. His lips part, slack against yours, either in shock or inexperience. You allow yourself the briefest twirl of your tongue against his before pulling back with a wet pop.

L stares at you as you retreat. The strawberries leave pale pink residue on his skin. Pulling back fully reveals the hardness between his legs, pushing up against the dark denim of his jeans. He grunts when your eyes land on it, either out of embarrassment or frustration. You swallow and its like sandpaper.

"Still want me to...?"

"I have not changed my mind," he replies, slightly hoarsely and a beat slower than usual. You shrug, smooth your hands over the tent at his crotch, and he whines. It's the most searing noise you've pulled from him yet, and all from some halfhearted palming over the jeans. It sends a thrill zipping through you, hot and addicting. His arms shake with the weight of holding himself up, neck craning to follow as you sink to your knees between his legs.

You unzip him, pop the button, and he groans slightly at the freedom from the constraints of his clothes. He's fully hard, straining against his dark underwear. You experiment, rubbing at the tip, feeling for the wet spot, and he keens and thrashes, losing his stability and crashing to the mattress. He makes a frustrated noise just after, as though cursing himself for his own lack of control.

"That—" he swallows hard, breathes shakily. "That feels..."

Your hand hovers. "Am I stopping?"

"No, I don't..." He scrambles. L scrambles over his words. "Please, continue."

You stroke him over his underwear for a few concentrated minutes, mostly enjoying the way he twitches and huffs and occasionally makes soft, whiny noises, the way he starts to rut his hips against your hand. No technique, no rhythm, just some sort of baseless desire that you find incredibly hot. There's almost a frustration to it that makes you want to laugh—of course there would be nothing more agonising to someone like L than seeing what he wanted so close to him but being unable to accomplish it himself.

When he starts gritting his teeth, you pull his boxers down to his thighs and he makes a choking, embarrassed sound. When you wrap your fingers around his cock for the first time, finding it velvety-soft and leaking, his eyes roll back and his hips arch into the loose wet tunnel of your hand. "Oh," is all he says. Small and soft like he's surprised. His neck twists and his mouth presses into the starched white sheets. "Oh," he says again as your fist moves slowly, stroking with intent, up and down. He's not overly big, fits nicely in your hand, makes swiping over the head where the pre beads with your thumb nice and convenient. And you love the way he shudders and thrashes when you do it.

"How does that feel?" Your voice is lower than you remember it being. L cracks a bleary eye open; his face is flushed bright pink now, a flush that bleeds all the way down his chest, blending in with the strawberry stains.

"It feels," he starts, before his brow pinches. "I—I am not sure how to—how to describe..."

"It's okay," you tell him. His thighs shake, flexing against the edge of the mattress. When he tips his head back the cords in his pretty throat bulge, so biteable. "You can come whenever."

"I wasn't—oh," he gasps, squirming. "I wasn't aware I n-needed your—permission, oh."

"Yeah, well," you say intelligently, a little struck dumb by the sight before you. "Just making sure we're on the same page."

"A-and what page is that?" he pants, thrusting his hips messily into your hand. He's so fucking sensitive that you swear you can see his eyes growing shiny.

"The one where I help you out, so don't be a brat," you murmur. L laughs breathlessly, trying, you think, to summon some retort. You twist your fist around him and it died, half-formed in his brain, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing hard in the sheets.

After another minute, he reaches out and grabs your wrist hard enough to bruise. He doesn't say it—can't, maybe. But you know. Your pace speeds up just a touch and he honest to god moans, spilling out of him soft and breathy before he comes, streaking over his stomach in pearly arcs. You watch him flinch at the contact, fingers slipping on your wrist. His chest flexes—in, out, in, out.

You collect a big scoop of pink frosting on your finger and dip it in the come starting to cool between his pecs before pressing it to his lips. L's brow wrinkles, startled—but he opens his lips and lets your fingers pass into the hot cavern of his mouth. Like a cat he licks your finger clean, pointed pink tongue prodding with no technique or flourish, just something steadfast, something stubborn.

You do him the dignity of tucking his softened cock back into his underwear and zipping up his jeans. Unsure how to proceed until L sits up rather abruptly. His hair is even more tousled from his tossing and turning as he reaches for a tissue to wipe himself down.

He looks at you. "I understand it's customary to offer some sort of equivalent exchange in these circumstances." A pause whilst he gathers his breath. "You'll have to forgive me. I'm not quite feeling up to the task."

His tone is normal, if a little shaky. You rock back on your heels. "Did you like it?"

L blinks at you. "My curiosity has been sated," he says, carefully. "Yes, I believe I did enjoy it."

Well, that's a relief if nothing else. The pink remnants of the strawberry cake it on the plate; the shade matches his blush.

#death note x reader #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet smut #death note smut #🫀.scribes #dom!reader #gn!reader

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wisellamawerewolf · 1 month

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Heaven has a point and it's ruining the show's entire premise

*rant under the cut*

It has probably been said before by other people who can articulate their thoughts better, but considering the way VivziePop chose to tell her story, Hazbin Hotel's premise just doesn't work.

At first the show's main idea was presumably about how it's never too late to become a better person. The themes of Hotel and providing redemption to damned souls if they CHOSE to become better was fitting for that concept and it could've worked well without much involvement from Heaven. Yearly extermination (although arguably not necessary) added stakes and a sense of emergency, but making Heaven fully involved in the situation was a very questionable choice. Now the main theme of the show is less about "self-improvement" and more about "Heaven is hypocritical", and it just doesn't work well for one (main) reason: every single sinner we have encountered are absolutely horrible.

I already sense some that people might bring up the "They're in Hell" argument, but here's the thing: it would've worked fine with the initial premise, but you can't say "Heaven is bad for exterminating souls" when these souls a.) killed, hurt and ruined people's lives when they were alive; and b.) kept killing, hurting and ruining people's lives in the afterlife. Is there a better solution than just killing these people? Probably. But that doesn't make Heaven seem hypocritical and unjustified. At worst it makes them look stupid, because if they knew most people would find extermination of souls abhorrent, they could've just send someone to rearrange hell and completely isolate the most vile sinners from others in order to prevent them from hurting people, instead of just letting them continue doing their shit but in a slightly worse place.

Another argument that comes in mind probably sounds something like "well obviously not EVERYONE is irredeemably bad in this place, and Heaven is surely unjustifiably sends people Hell for stupid reasons if it's overpopulated". And if this statement is true, I have a couple of questions:

Why then literally none of these people are in the Hotel? Surely Charlie could've find at least some of such people and convince them to participate in her experiment. This is probably better to live under the protection of one of the strongest beings in hell than being potentially killed in the streets, so what do they have to lose? If none of these people believe in Charlie's idea, why every time we meet a non-resident, they are always murderous assholes, with almost no exceptions? If Hell is full of wrongfully condemned souls, why doesn't Charlie address them in the seventh episode, instead of going to the cannibal town to ask for help?

I think I've said it somewhere before, but VivziePop wants to criticize religion for scaring people with eternal punishment for doing arbitrary and harmless stuff, but also wants to treat said punishment as a playground for her edgy OCs most of whom are the exact people who by all logic should be in hell.

She wants her story to be about redemption but then turns around and says "actually, my homicidal OC's did nothing wrong, the SOCIETY that condems them is a true villain. Please ignore corpses my faves piled up in the corner". Viv wants to have her cake and eat it too, which results in a sloppy writing.

The most frustrating thing about this that it could theoretically work if handled more carefully: Charlie is already naive and Vaggie is a freshly exiled angel so just make them believe that all sinners have a legitimate reason to be in hell and need to be "fixed". Let them run into Angel Dust and try to make him improve, only to later learn that better people were turned down in heaven and send to hell because of the arbitrary reasons.

It could've both drived the message of "you can always chose to be better" and provide a valid critique to the religion in regards to what counts as a "sin" and wether it deserves such a hursh punishment or not, but ut VivziePop just can't decide what she wants to do and talk about so she just throws in everything at the same time.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #thanks tumblr for posting my half-baked post again because of “bad connection”. geez.#i was full of tequila yesterday and my Spotify decided to “bless” me with “You didn't know”#and the lyrics were so stupid I made another rant. So enjoy i guess?

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suashii · 1 month

Text

— 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓁 ౨ৎ

miya osamu x reader. 3.9k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ secrecy ﾉ misunderstandings

synopsis: after accidentally finding out about your boyfriend's plan to propose, you anxiously await the moment.

that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why he wants to propose. that’s probably why—

the words have been playing on repeat in your head ever since they slipped past atsumu’s lips. you could tell he was apologetic for not only the mistake he made in revealing his brother’s business but also for keying you in on something you weren’t meant to be aware of. despite his profuse and plentiful “sorry”s, it has been impossible for you to not think about osamu’s impending proposal.

even less so now that you’re standing outside his restaurant.

the last time you’d been relatively nervous at or near onigiri miya was when you were stationed on the bench and waiting for him to close up for your first date. time passed by excruciatingly slowly as you peeked over your shoulder every couple of minutes to gauge whether or not he would be out any time soon. you’d been inside the establishment only a few hours earlier with some friends who wouldn’t shut up about how cute the guy with the black cap was. you couldn’t blame them; you thought the same thing. which is why you were so surprised when what you thought was harmless flirting with the entire table led to him pulling you aside and asking you to hang out that night.

it was an impulsive decision for you to say yes, but you don’t regret it in the slightest. the happiest two years of your life came as a result of your spontaneity. the nostalgia of that moment hits you at full force as you stand tentatively at the entrance of the restaurant, patrons entering with excitement and exiting with content smiles. the kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering around in your belly feels the exact same it had that first night you spent with him.

you can’t loiter around forever, though, as you only have so much time before your coworkers are expecting you back with lunch. with a stabilizing sigh, you push the door open, the bell above it ringing to announce the arrival of another.

part of you is expecting osamu to welcome you at the door, after all, it isn’t rare for him to be running the host podium. though, instead of being greeted by a familiar face, a girl sporting a black apron is seating the growing line of visitors.

you never know where you can find your boyfriend at any given moment—he hops between helping out in the kitchen, handling business in his office, and even waiting tables; which is what he seems to be busy with today. you always thought he preferred spending his hours in the back working with the food, but he’s surprisingly adept at socializing with customers. that much is evident by the easy smile playing at his lips while he converses with a group of older women just to the left of where you’re currently positioned.

you’re close enough to pick up on most of the exchange. he’s dropping off the bill and collecting plates as they dote on him—going back and forth about how helpful and kind he had been while servicing them. a smile of your own stretches across your lips as you listen to their overt praise of your boyfriend. you tell him how amazing he was all the time, but he deserves to hear it from other people, too.

“a handsome gentleman like you oughta be married by now.” one of the women points at his ringless finger as he reaches for her empty cup.

your ears perk up at the lady’s words. to them, it must be hard to believe that a successful business owner with a personality likable to all isn’t settled down already. you wait in anticipation for his reply.

“yeah.” he breathily laughs—not with ease; more bashful than anything. “i’m working on that.”

you can pick up the distant laughter from the women that sounds farther away than it truly is. you never doubted it when atsumu told you, but hearing it from osamu himself makes it so much more real. too focused on your thoughts, you don’t feel the presence of someone beside you.

“hey.” you almost jump at the sudden voice but the familiar feel of arms wrapping around you and soft lips pressing to your cheek stops you. he must have finished up his chat while you were lost in your thoughts.

“hi.” you smile, hoping it doesn’t appear too strained. you can’t think back on a time where it had felt awkward to be around osamu but you’re beginning to think that now might mark the first. as much as you want to remain your normal and composed self, the task is proving to be difficult.

“lunch run?” he asks, pulling away from you but keeping one arm wrapped around your waist.

“mhm,” you hum.

he tells you that he’ll grab your order so you don’t have to wait any longer in the line. you chew at your lip as you gaze nowhere in particular in an attempt to think about anything but the proposal you should be oblivious to. osamu is back in no time, placing the to-go bag in your hand and sending you off with another kiss.

the bell rings again as you depart from the restaurant. as if your mind wasn’t already in the gutter, you have something new to dwell on for the rest of the day.

ᡣ𐭩

the aroma of breakfast cooking typically rouses you from your slumber on saturday mornings, but rather than waking to the scent of a freshly cooked meal, the hum of the television from the next room works as your alarm. wiping any lingering sleep from your eyes and tossing the comforter aside, you stand up and stroll down the hall to see what osamu is up to. through slightly bleary vision, you catch sight of him sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his eyes trading off between looking at the flat screen and the screen of his laptop. it’s not often that he handles work matters outside his office and on the occasion that he does bring business home, he usually hunkers down in the guest room that serves as a workroom so he won’t get distracted.

“good morning,” you call from behind the couch. you lean over the back and squint your eyes to get a closer look at his laptop. “whatcha looking at?”

tilting his head back, osamu flashes you a bright smile. his hair is messy and unbrushed and your hands are itching to neaten the brunette strands. he pats the space on the floor beside him. “come see.”

you round the cushioned furniture and plop down next to osamu. you wriggle around a bit before you’re comfortably pressed against his side. the sound of the tv playing some competitive cooking show fills the otherwise quiet room. with a satisfied sigh, you finally look at the tab pulled up on osamu’s computer.

“houses?” you clear your throat but it’s too late to take back the crack that breaks the word.

a hand runs lazily up and down your side as osamu nods.

“how come? i thought you liked your apartment.” you cross your arms and chew at the inside of your cheek. you spend more time at his place than your own and osamu often calls his apartment yours—the two of you are practically living together. and you love it, being able to wake up beside him and welcome him home after a long day, but the thought of buying a house makes you shiver. the nagging at the back of your mind that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore was resurfacing.

“i do,” he agrees easily. “but don’t you want to find a place to call a home of our own?”

“well, yeah…” at the beginning of your relationship, you could only have dreamed of this moment; house hunting with osamu. the thought made you giddy; picturing how beautiful your yard would look lined with colorful flowers, thinking about all the meals you and osamu could make in a spacious kitchen, imagining what the rooms would look like filled with photos and belongings of your own—envisioning a happy life with him. now that you’re getting a taste of the experience, you can’t help but think about his plan to propose. if he’s already searching the market for houses, it must mean that you’re quickly approaching his proposal. there’s no time to enjoy what’s right in front of you when you’re too preoccupied thinking about osamu popping the question.

“hey.” he smooths a hand over your hair and squishes your cheeks together with his other. osamu hates seeing your eyebrows knit together in a frown. he can’t be sure as to why you look so troubled, but he does know that he’d do anything to get your mind off of whatever is bothering you—even if that thing is the window displaying images of houses for sale. his lips meet your puckered ones in a quick kiss before he continues. “no need to get the jitters just yet. we’re just scouting, nothing serious.”

it’s clear that he caught onto your discomfort and his words are an attempt at ridding you of it. just because you’re feeling awkward doesn’t mean you have to put a damper on osamu’s hopeful mood. and he’s right; it would take a lot more than a couple hours on a saturday morning to find a house that the both of you were happy with. there’s no harm in just looking. you nod with a grin, “nothing serious.”

“but,” he draws out the vowel, “i have been waiting for you to get up so i could hear your thoughts about this kitchen.” he clicks over to the picture showing off the kitchen of the listed house. “what do you think? pretty amazing, right?”

you won’t let your nerves ruin what is supposed to be an exciting milestone for you and your boyfriend. and how can you deny the man with sparkles of anticipation in his eyes?

“if you like it, i love it.”

ᡣ𐭩

spacing out is your new normal. it happens much more often than it ever did before a couple weeks ago. you’ll be at work, typing away on your keyboard, and your mind will drift. the next time you look at the document you’re working on, it’s filled with your written thoughts about being a spouse rather than the report you’re meant to be filling out. you’ll stare at your hands while loading the washing machine with dirty laundry, imagining what your ring finger would look like adorned with a metal band. it’s only when you go to transfer the wet clothes to the dryer that you realize you accidentally mixed colors with the whites. the growing number of mishaps have you wishing you were still gleefully unaware of what’s causing you to internally rush osamu to hurry up and bend down on one knee. though, you don’t blame osamu for your wandering mind—how could you? it’s not his fault that his brother blabbed.

your life would be a lot easier if atsumu had a filter and kept his mouth shut. you had let him off the hook because his apology seemed sincere, but the moment that ring is resting easily on your fourth finger, he’ll be getting a mouthful of choice words for causing you so much unnecessary stress.

even now, on what’s meant to be a relaxing walk with osamu, you’re too distracted to enjoy the cool breeze gently blowing against your face and the company of your boyfriend. the warmth of osamu’s hand enveloping yours is the only thing anchoring you to your environment, which is why you gasp when he tugs your arm to keep you from walking any further. you stumble back on your feet, glancing over to osamu to see why he stopped you so abruptly. you aren’t able to ask before he starts kneeling down.

it’s as if time froze.

oh god, is he doing it here? now? in the middle of the sidewalk? of all the scenarios you had run through during restless nights, you had come to the conclusion that a public proposal was the least likely; osamu is an intimate man and you figured he wouldn’t want to make a scene. but more than that, he’d want the event to be exclusive to the two of you—no spectators or wandering eyes, something private; a memory that belonged to you and you only. the shock of not only his proposal but the execution leaves you reeling. heart thumping wildly in your chest, you will your eyes to look down to your feet. your breath catches in your throat upon seeing that he’s only tying his shoe. you don’t know whether to breathe out a sigh of relief or scream in frustration at that fact you’ll be waiting for who knows how long for the real thing to happen.

“you good?” osamu questions with a frown as he slowly returns to his standing position. he’s been catching you with a crease between your eyebrows recently and despite your consistent reassurance that you were fine, the expression seemed to always find its way back to your face. even though he’s concerned, he never wanted to come off as the overbearing boyfriend that crossed your boundaries by constantly hovering over your shoulder and badgering you to tell him how you actually feel. he trusts that if something is truly bothering you, you’ll tell him when you’re ready.

you have no intention of coming straight out and telling him that you were expecting him to give a sappy speech and pull out a velvet box. the entire reason you’ve been suffering silently is because you don’t want him to know that you know. you wrap your hands around his arm and peer up at him with a tight-lipped smile. “yeah, sorry. i was just in my head when you stopped me, that’s all.”

he stares down at you and you can practically see the doubt swimming in his eyes. there’s no way you can keep up this act without him getting even a little suspicious—your behavior is clearly stirring up some wariness on his end. you ignore the biting feeling that’s telling you that osamu is onto you, meeting his gaze happily.

“okay,” he finally speaks up with a short nod.

“okay, let’s go.” you rest your head on his shoulder and squeeze his bicep in a gesture to keep moving. he obliges and the two of you naturally fall into step with each other, continuing your stroll through town. you point out a shop that catches your eye, one with mannequins set up in the window wearing some cute outfits. the weather getting warmer is a perfect excuse for you to stop by the boutique and shop around. maybe browsing and asking osamu what he thinks about the clothes will be enough to get your head out of the clouds.

ᡣ𐭩

“this place is really nice,” you comment, head turning to take in your surroundings as you sit down in the chair osamu pulled out for you. the most eye-catching characteristic of the establishment is the extravagant chandelier hanging from the center of the room. the crystal pendants glimmer when the lights hit them at just the right angle, highlighting the intricately carved art on the walls. individual candles are lit at the center of each table. you can’t put your finger on their scent, but if the rest of the place is anything to go off of, you’re sure they smell amazing. even the silverware set out looks expensive. “are we celebrating something?”

you were caught off guard when osamu walked through the door earlier than usual, telling you to change out of your comfy clothes into something nice. it took a full-blown interrogation under the ruse of needing to know the dress code for osamu to come clean and admit that he was taking you out to dinner. it struck you as strange, though. your boyfriend was a chef at heart and loved trying out new recipes in the kitchen, excitedly standing by while you tasted the dish and gave him feedback. but on days when he was burned out from all the cooking at work, he’d ask you if you were fine with him ordering takeout. even on the days when didn’t want to cook but wanted to get out of the apartment, the two of you usually ventured to a familiar local spot, never anywhere that warranted more than jeans and a sweatshirt. him bringing you to a restaurant so opulent must mean that today marks a special occasion, right?

tonight has to be the night.

“no,” he takes his seat across from you, laying the provided napkin on his lap before running a cautious hand over his hair. it’s an unusual sight to see his hair slicked back, but some of the dark pieces strayed from the rest, swooping over his forehead and framing his face. he always looks handsome in your eyes but under the lights illuminating the room, he’s even more attractive. “i just wanted to treat you to a nice night.”

“that’s sweet.” you reach across the table to take his hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze and offering him a soft smile. what exactly does a “nice night” entail? dinner, dessert, and a diamond ring? you hope he doesn’t notice the tremors running through your fingers.

he returns your smile with one of his own, brushing his thumb across your knuckles. the two of you share light conversation until the waiter arrives to take your orders and collect your menus. as smoothly as things are going, you can’t help but think that as time goes on, you’re getting closer and closer to the moment you’ve spent weeks waiting for.

“is something wrong?” osamu asks.

“nope.” you shake your head. “why would something be wrong?”

“your leg keeps bouncing under the table.”

“oh, sorry, i didn’t even notice.” you pull your hand back and rest your palms on your thighs to stop them from moving.

“look, babe.” osamu runs his hand down his face and sighs. you must have thought he didn’t notice that you were beginning to frown more, that you were sleeping at his apartment less, that you pulled away when he brought up the future—but he did, he did notice and he can’t let it go. “you’ve been acting strange lately and i told myself i wouldn’t pry but it’s really starting to worry me. i just… was it something i did?”

“no! no, of course not.” you wave your hands back and forth frantically as if they’ll physically disperse his words throughout the air—rid that ridiculous thought from his head. you want to grab him by the face and scream at him about how wrong he is, but you keep your hands folded in your lap, thumbs unconsciously twiddling.

“the truth is…” you chew your lip thoughtfully, thinking over whether or not it’s a good idea to finally tell him. you had a good reason for keeping it from osamu, but now that you’ve witnessed that it is doing more harm than good, that he’s blaming himself for you being distant, you recognize that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to keep him in the dark. you have to tell him—this whole debacle has gone on for far too long and it’s affecting someone other than yourself. you take a deep breath before continuing. “when i went out with atsumu a couple weeks ago, we were just talking when he told me something he shouldn’t have. he said you were going to propose to me.”

osamu’s lips part in surprise. it never crossed his mind, the possibility that you were aware, but now that he thinks about it, everything makes sense. well, mostly everything. you had answered his question, but it raised another, one that’s a lot more difficult to ask. “so, have you been acting off because you knew, or because you don’t want to get married?”

you know it isn’t his intention, but your heart breaks a little at the fact that he even considered your rejection to be a real possibility. and it cracks a little more knowing that your secrecy is what likely instilled that notion in his head. “it’s not that. i was just on edge because i didn’t know when it was going to happen—i was expecting it and every little thing set me off.”

he nods slowly as he processes everything.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier.” your voice is quiet and osamu can just barely hear it over the commotion of the dining area. “i didn’t know what to do when your brother told me and, i don’t know, i thought acting like i was clueless would be best. i didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” he places his hands palms-up on the table and waits for you to set yours on top of his. you lift them off your legs and give them to osamu. he raises them to his mouth, kissing the back of each before meeting your gaze once more. “i’m not mad, i swear i’m not. you did what you thought was right. don’t beat yourself up about it.”

despite his understanding, part of you still feels as if the whole ordeal was avoidable. but if osamu isn’t upset with you, there’s no point in being upset with yourself. he wouldn’t want you fretting over it and you want nothing more than for things to return to normal. you smile and huff out a laugh. “i guess i ended up doing exactly what i was trying not to. did you have a backup plan in case i found out before you got the job done?”

“mmm, can’t say i thought about that. but i suppose i could just do it now. i don’t have the ring on me but there’s no reason to wait since—”

“are you serious?” you stare at him in disbelief. you’d spent the last several days walking on eggshells as though osamu would propose at any given moment, telling yourself that it could happen when you least expected it. still, none of those previous close calls lessen the shock of osamu’s nonchalantly spoken words.

“completely.” he traces a line over your finger; the one that he ideally would be sliding a ring on. it’s far from how he imagined the scene playing out, but even without the defining qualities of the average proposal—the dropping down on one knee, the long heartfelt speech about how his life changed when you walked into it, the dazzling ring—everything about here and now feels right to osamu. “marry me?”

tears pool in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. you thought you had enough time to prepare for this—experienced enough scares to steel yourself from crying, but if this stretch of time had taught you anything, it was to expect the unexpected. the vision of osamu in front of you is slowly blurring with each passing second. you blink, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks and drip down your chin. you want to be able to see his face clearly when you give him your answer. fervently nodding, you tell him, “yes.”

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #osamu fluff #haikyuu fluff #osamu x you #haikyuu x you

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ivystoryweaver · 4 months

Text

Fairytale of New York

Summary: A tired, pathetic puppy wanders into your diner on Christmas Eve. Things...escalate.

Pairing: Llewyn Davis from Inside Llewyn Davis x f!reader who wants what she wants

Word Count: 2.2k

Content: nsfw, mdni, language, mentions of past mistreatment, talk of contraception, gun but no violence, oral -f and m rec., not beta'd

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Bone-weary.

Your grandmother used to say it.

The man in front of you looked deep-in-his-bones, forlornly, kicked-puppy exhausted.

Which was a feat in and of itself, seeing how you were surrounded this evening by hungry, homeless people, and he was definitely the most handsome one by far.

Chocolate curls tumbled effortlessly across his forehead. His dark beard was kempt - not the fuzzy, matted mess of the men around him.

At first glance, you wondered if he was here to order a regular meal or volunteer. He almost looked put-together enough.

But he sighed - a bone-weary, defeated, groaning sigh.

"Cold night," you commented, noticing how he struggled to create even the tiniest spark of warmth from his corduroy blazer and wool scarf. He seemed to try and make himself smaller, as if willing the too-thin layers of fabric to truly envelop him.

"No shit," he fired back, clenching his fingerless glove around the handle of his guitar case. Noticing your look of slight amusement, he sighed, tiredly. "Sorry. Long night. Wondering if I could get some coffee?"

"Sure thing," you nodded past him to an empty two-top, offering him a warm smile.

Your boss Sal was a hard ass with a heart of gold. On Christmas Eve, anyone could eat free from ten to midnight at this fine dining establishment where you earned your measly paycheck.

You were living the dream - serving diner tables. But Sal was good to you and the other guys and gals you called coworkers - granting holiday bonuses and sometimes, you could swear he beefed up your tips at the end of the night. Just a couple dollars here or there, but it helped.

You returned to the pathetic puppy of a man with a fresh, hot cup of coffee. "Want something to eat? Everything's on the house tonight."

One eyebrow shot up curiously. "Free? You're serious."

"It's Christmas Eve," you said mysteriously, wiggling your fingers as if casting a spell. "Sal's got a soft spot for people who need a hot meal and got nowhere to go."

Kicked Puppy nodded, his eyes momentarily flickering up and down your body.

"So, what'll it be, handsome? You want something to warm you up besides that coffee? Or do you have a pressing holiday engagement?"

Narrowing his tired, dark eyes, he looked like he was trying to come up with a clever reply, but ultimately let out a defeated, bitter-ish chuckle. "Got friends, but...every one of them's pissed at me. On my own tonight."

He shrugged helplessly. "I guess I'm kind of an asshole sometimes."

Wagging your finger, you went along with him, playfully. "I could tell that about you, right when you walked in. I took one look and thought, 'that guy is definitely an asshole. Probably shouldn't serve him.'"

He almost chuckled, but it was a weak laugh at best.

"Bowl of chili sound good? Or...I have chicken noodle, or a hamburger. Not much left in the kitchen," you offered.

A few minutes later, Mr. Handsome Kicked Puppy sipped his bowl of chili while you finished up with your other customers. A few of the homeless guys liked to flirt with you, but they were pretty harmless.

Everyone knew not to cross Sal and his employees anyway.

You noticed Kicked Puppy's gaze fixed on you, so you made your way back over and checked to see if he needed a refill.

"I'm good," he waved you off, but something made you linger. Probably the fact that he was kind of beautiful.

"You a singer?" You prodded, nodding to his guitar case.

He made a face - seemed to be a sore spot for him, but concurred. "Sang across the street tonight. You ever been?"

Peering out the window, you read the club's neon sign. "No, but I always wanted to. What kind of music?"

"The only kind," he shrugged.

You motioned to the spot across from him. "Mind if I sit a minute? Feet are killing me. Promise I won't ask you to sing."

He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, eyeing you curiously. "Oh, you won't?"

"'Course not," you smiled, waving your hand dismissively. "Everyone knows musicians hate that. It's like...your living. You can't just sing for free."

His eyebrows shot up as he leaned in. "You're mocking me..."

"No," you laughed. "I'm serious. It would be like someone asking me to serve drinks at a party without paying me." You motioned around you. "Not much of a career but I should still get paid for it."

"Thank you." He gestured animatedly. "My...friends - some of the people who usually let me crash - always try to parade me out at dinner parties, like an attraction. Fucking annoying."

He paused for a moment. "Almost feel like I owe them sometimes, you know... Can't do it, though."

"You have your pride," you sympathetically reasoned. "That's fair enough."

You stood, reaching to collect his dirty dishes. "So, who's couch is it tonight if everyone's pissed at you?"

Running a gloved hand over his beard, he shook his head and shrugged. "What time do you close?"

"Midnight."

He slowly nodded.

"What's your name, singer?"

"Llewyn."

You smiled softly and introduced yourself. "You don't have anywhere to go after midnight, do you?"

He shook his head as his gaze dropped.

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12:24 A.M. - Christmas

"Can't believe you're letting a strange man sleep in your apartment," the handsome bone-weary puppy voiced as you turned the key in your deadbolt.

"You're not a stranger anymore, Llewyn," you replied, trying to find just the right way to wiggle your key... "Got it! Damn thing sticks all the time."

Shouldering your way inside, you tossed your bag on the tiniest kitchen bar in existence, motioning for him to come on in.

"Like I told you - it's not much. You might be warmer sleeping in a car, but the love seat will keep you off this frigid, hard floor. And the water's warm, since we're over the diner. Sal's my landlord too. He keeps everything running nice enough. Cheap ass on heat though."

"No, I really appreciate it," he gratefully returned, “especially on Christmas. You sure I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No..." You let out a wistful sigh. "No, I don't have anyone." You smirked at him playfully. "But I do own a revolver if you're having any weird ideas."

"Holy shit," he whistled. "Glad you take care of yourself, I guess."

Llewyn reveled in your attention and care over the next half hour. You made a batch of hot cocoa while he took the warmest shower he'd had in weeks. You turned on a Christmas record and found a couple of thick blankets for him to sleep (or attempt to sleep) cramped up on the love seat.

"Thank you for this," he quietly voiced, sipping his cocoa, his eyes drooping with exhaustion. "Don't deserve it. If you knew me, you'd push me right back out that door."

"Maybe," you shrugged, sipping your own warm beverage as you curled up in the only chair in the place. "But it's Christmas. Even assholes and loners need a break sometimes."

He regarded you with interest, his eyes raking over your form for the millionth time. "That what you are? A loner?"

You hid behind the ceramic of your mug for a moment of reprieve. "Have to be. What else is there for a woman who doesn't want a marriage and kids?"

You shuddered, remembering how many times your ex had sabotaged your efforts at contraception...and how violent he'd become when he found out you were actively trying to not get pregnant.

Hence the waitress job, freezing apartment...and the revolver.

"You don't want kids?" He asked, clearing his throat. Maybe you were somehow...perfect.

"I really don't. You’d think women would have a few more options now that it’s the ‘60s. So I got my revolver to make sure my ex stays away. He’s a bigger asshole than the two of us," you answered, transparently. Noticing how his dark eyes widened at your candor, you laughed.

"Scared yet?"

"No," he chuckled. "But I guess that answers the question of whether or not we're gonna fuck."

Smirking, you took one more sip of cocoa before pushing off your chair to kneel down in front of him. Your eyes met his challengingly as you spread your palms over his thighs, pushing them up to his hips.

"That why you're an asshole?" You challenged, reaching for the zipper of his trousers. "Can't be bothered to wear a condom?"

"Can't afford that shit," he fired back, enjoying the view down your t-shirt.

"Definitely an asshole," you shake your head, dragging his zipper down and tracing your fingertips over the outline of his hardening length with your fingertips.

"My pussy's off limits unless you want my revolver shoved up your ass," you inform, leaning over to suck on his leaking tip through the fabric of his underwear. "But fuck it. It's Christmas. You can come in my mouth."

"Fucking hell," he groaned at your forwardness, shifting his hips to give you easier access to pull his cock free.

"Oh shit, you're big," you marveled, running the tip of your tongue over your lips in anticipation. Wrapping your hands around him, you turned your eyes up to his. "Merry Christmas. Don't say I never gave you anything."

You licked a stripe up the underside of his shaft before placing him on your flat tongue. Your eyes flickered back up to his tauntingly as you slowly wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue.

"Jes....oh fuck," he moaned, gripping the arm of the tiny couch.

Bobbing your head up and down a few times, you pushed yourself past the point of comfort and swallowed his tip. Your mouth stretched to take him, and the challenge of it made you instantly wet.

“Holy f-fuck,” he responded eagerly, “just like that.” You let him fuck your mouth, free hand gripping your jaw as his hips found a rhythm thrusting and gagging you.

Something about how pathetic this man was - how eager and responsive to your touch - it was doing it for you. You hadn’t done anything this spontaneous in a long time, but it felt good. And you certainly didn’t mind a heavy, hot cock in your mouth.

A few heavy thrusts and gags later and he coated your throat with his spend, letting out a near embarrassing whine as he came.

You let him soften before pulling off him and licking your lips clean. “Bet you’ll sleep well now.” You winked.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, shaking his head as you stood and started to shed your clothes. Remembering you were pretty clear about not fucking without a condom, he slowly stood, stuffing his soft cock back into his pants. “What are you…”

“I have a twin bed, but you’ll fit better than on that thing.” You nodded to the love seat, now standing in front of him completely nude. “But to sleep with me, you’re gonna need to return the favor. I’m fucking soaked.”

Minutes later, this rather beautiful, bearded man knelt between your legs in bed, his prominent nose nudging tauntingly at your puffy clit. His plush mouth sampled your pussy lips, as if he was making out with your cunt.

“F-fuck yes,” you groaned as he fucked his tongue into your hole, sucking and slurping at your juices.

Your fingers slid into the softest curls, twisting them around your fingers as you rocked your pelvis up to meet his soft beard.

The he started humming. And not just a humming sound but a fucking tune. After several delicious, deep thrusts of his tongue, he pulled out, making you whine at the loss of stimulation.

His hum gently morphed into a few lyrics as his eyes gazed up at you, equal parts cocky and pussy drunk - your slick coating his beard and lips.

‘Hang me, oh hang me…I’ll be dead and gone…’

He slid two fingers into your slick, warm hole, curling them with the dexterity of an instrumentalist. Then lowered his smirking mouth back down to trace circles around your clit with his tongue. Kept right on humming.

Laying his tongue flat, he laved your sensitive bundle of nerves with a few rough licks before wrapping those sexy lips around it and sucking.

He added a third finger - you were plenty wet enough for it and the slight stretch made your back arch off your twin bed. Fingers curling, lips sucking, and that insistent hum sent you right over the edge into earth-shattering bliss. Your body seized in mind-altering pleasure and then went completely white as you rode out the best orgasm you’d had in years.

He worked you through it before blatantly licking you clean and climbing his way up your body to cage you in. The look on his face told you he was definitely satisfied with himself, but the hot flesh of his cock prodding at your thigh meant he didn’t want this to be over.

"Is that my revolver or are you ready for more?" You teased, reaching to wrap you fingers around his cock. "Don't think I have any condoms big enough for all this."

He groaned, hips shifting into your grip. "Maybe we could just - "

"I'll will shoot you. Go the fuck to sleep, Llewyn."

And that's how an exhausted, pathetic puppy of a man, with soulful brown eyes, and the voice of an angel, ended up in your twin bed on Christmas Eve.

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#1000 followers #oscar isaac fic #holiday fic #holiday celebration #oscar isaac characters #celebration #1000 follower celebration #christmas fic #llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #inside llewyn davis

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piichuu · 6 months

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♡ DAYLIGHT - BASEBALL GAME

NOVEMBER 11TH

7:21PM

the sun has already begun to lower as you, shoko and utahime arrive at the baseball court that has been taken over by the others you will spend the evening with, one of those including nanami kento. he is wearing his usual attire despite the fact that he might have to take part of the fun, but it seems like he’s planning on being on the sidelines.

his eyes meet yours for a quick second before they look away towards gojo who is already talking his ears off after not many minutes.

“y/n!” the sound of itadori yuji’s voice reaches your ears as he runs towards you, putting his arms around you for a hug after months of not seeing one another. the last time the two of you saw each other was before nanami broke up with you.

you put an arm on his back and giggle lightly. “hi yuji, have you been okay?” you ask and the young boy nods, flashing you a wide smile. “mhm! have you?”

you give him a slight nod and watch as he then runs over to nanami to talk to him, one of his favorite people in the world. it is when he points towards you that it comes to your understanding what yuji is talking about to the taller man in front of him.

“i think he’s doing anything to get the two of you back together, you were pretty much acting like his parents back then,” shoko chuckles.

utahime nods in agreement before gojo walks up to you three, wrappings his arms around you to pull you in for a group hug. “you came! you guys are playing too,” he says, causing you to let out a groan. “i thought we wouldn’t have to play.” “well, you do now, so come on. we have to make the teams.”

your gaze flickers around at the others talking to one another. nanami kento is now sitting on a bench a little further away from the others and after giving shoko a quick glance, you walk over to him. maybe this’ll be the best way to avoid playing a baseball game where you know none of the rules.

the blonde man looks up at you before he watches as you sit down beside him. “also trying to avoid having to play?” he questions and you give him a quick nod of the head. “i don’t think i would want to either be in a team with gojo nor play against him.”

nanami chuckles and shakes his head. “same, i’ve played with him before which is why i’m sitting here now. you probably remember that game, when he was about to use his domain on me because my team won against his.”

as the memory plays back in your head, you let out a giggle. “yeah, i remember that now. i was actually scared for your life for a second,” you say and nanami gives you a soft smile. “so it’s probably best if i sit this one out.”

you nod. “probably, and remembering that makes me want to play even less. i wouldn’t even be able to defend myself against him.” “he probably wouldn’t hurt you. if he didn’t hurt me that time, he wouldn’t hurt you. he’s harmless to us, you should know that as well.”

“i know,” you flash him a light smile before looking away towards your friends who have just started playing, seeming to have accepted you and nanami not wanting to join in.

he sighs. “how have you been holding up since we last met?” his hands are placed in his lap as he speaks, not knowing what else to do with them as he awaits an answer. “i’ve been good. i’m sorry you had to see me like that…”

“it’s not like it was the first time. it’s okay, i was happy to see you,” nanami speaks and as soon as those last words leave his mouth, you can’t help the fact that your face is warming up for each second that passes. “i don’t want you to think otherwise. i’m always glad to see you.”

you try to hide the smile that is growing wider on your face, looking away from him. “you can’t say those things,” you mumble, suddenly feeling the touch of his hand now over yours, slowly intertwining your fingers together like it’s the most natural thing. “i know, but i can’t help it…”

just as you’re about to look back at him, gojo’s voice reaches your ears. “nanamin, y/n! you have to play, come on, don’t try to get away!” he yells and before anyone can see, you pull your hand away from nanami’s and stand up on your feet, walking towards the group of friends with a heart beating quicker than ever before.

FOURTEEN | MASTERLIST | SIXTEEN

PAIRING: nanami kento x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: nanami thought he did what was best for y/n when he broke up with her, but he could not have been more wrong. he isn’t making it better when he accidentally sends her a follow request and doesn’t even realize.

WARNINGS: none i think

TAG LIST: @yourmumsthings @minibolos @kaitfae @purplecandygerl @rijhi @hangezoeisabaddie @ilovekennyomega @peachesnoranges @satoruskitchenrag @jtoddwife @hana-patata @mysuperrainbow @changbinsuals @zenilili @creative1writings @bloombb @vynz0ne @tranzumaki @libbyistired @sad-darksoul @r0ckst4rjk @becsmarvel @magalimachete @wxnderless @letthewindlead @lyannablaiddyd @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @rreborn @stardusthyuck @lvrmelanii @thvunaise @mrswhitethornbelikov @mr-underhills-things @lynxxyyy @polarbvnny @bbysatoruuu @bhootlekhakag @sillygetocat @moonmalice @ssc7514 @ti-mame @asp7n @bananasquash @spiidergirlsworld @luvceleste @fresa-luna @grimistheangerinmystares @zanellemalkovich @fragil3ghost @scorpio-echo

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ijwrsmff · 6 months

Text

What's Wrong?-Law x Reader (Appendicitis)

A couple people requested this on my archive, while requests were open, so here's this! I don't really know what trigger warnings to use for this? So just in case.

Tw: reader in pain, medical procedure, reader has a fear of needles.

It started off harmless enough, but it just seemed to keep getting worse…what began with cramping along your mid stomach, has expanded and gotten more painful. It wasn’t too bad, to begin with. You brushed it off as a strained muscle from a fight, but your suspicions it was something more serious was nagging at your mind. The pain was becoming unbearable, but you tried to hide it…especially from your boyfriend.

You knew it wouldn’t be easy, seeing as he was the submarine’s doctor. He had pushed, making sure you were safe after every fight. Law immediately knew something was up, when you barely said a word after the fight and went straight to your own room. You had almost always stayed in his room, you should have known he’d pick up on that. He did tend to be overly observant.

There wasn’t even a knock on the door, he just walked in to see you laying on your bed. He walked up to it and crossed his arms with a cocked eyebrow. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” Straight to the point as always. “You’ve been acting differently. Not spending as much time with me or the crew, and you seem to be distracted during our most recent fights.”

You gulped and sat up in bed, trying your hardest not to wince. “Just…feeling a little tired…is all…” It was a terrible lie, and you both knew it. You tried to back it up by continuing, “Not really feeling up for fighting, it’s no big deal! I probably just have a cold or something!” While smiling at him, you tried not to look at his face. Another clear sign you were straight up lying to him.

“Uh huh…” He walked forward, closer to you and you leaned back. “Then you should have come to me. Even though that’s not the case.” He reached a hand to your forehead, “Hm…you do actually have a bit of a fever though.” He felt around your neck, and didn’t seem to find anything swollen. “Still, you’re coming to my office. Let’s go.” He turned to walk, and he fully turned back when you didn’t go to follow him.

“N-No it’s okay! I’m fine!” You gulped, knowing he probably wouldn’t drop it this time. He could be so stubborn…you loved him a lot though. Your love for him made you feel bad for hiding your pain from him, but what if he had to give you a shot? Or IV? That fear triumphed in your mind. “I just need some rest is all!” He glared, and you realized your mistake. He didn’t like when people claimed to know better about their health than him.

“Come on.” He walked back to you, and went to pick you up but the sudden movement caused a sharp pain to shoot through your abdomen. You practically screamed, not expecting it at all. Even Law looked surprised, and he let go instantly. You could tell by that look in his eyes, that his “doctor mode” was already activated.

“What’s wrong? Clearly it’s more serious than some cold. You don’t even hardly scream like that when wounded in battle.” He looked you over as much as he could without touching you again. He didn’t see any clear signs of injury, and there was a distinctive lack of blood on you or your clothes. “Lay down.” He was much more careful this time, and aided you into a laying down position.

You looked sheepish, and embarrassed when being caught. “I just…no needles. You gotta promise me that…” You tried to relax, but the pain was throbbing at this point. He felt around your neck, down to over your heart and he stopped there.

“Your pulse…it’s escalated substantially.” He continued, and lifted up your shirt slightly to put pressure on different places on your stomach. He didn’t even promise not to use needles, and continued, “I can’t promise that. Not until I know what’s wrong.” Once the pressure went over your lower abdomen, you hissed, which had his eyes shoot up to your face to gauge it. “Shit…” He muttered, and you could see a battle in his eyes.

“Shit? What? Is it bad?” Your fear spiked, and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he held you firmly in place. “Law?” His eyes were a mixture of fear and irritation. Either at you, or whatever was causing your pain. You weren’t sure which one would be more ideal in this situation. Whichever it was, you didn’t want to be in more pain like this for a longer period of time.

“It’s your appendix. They’re close to bursting, and that can be fatal. I have to get them out. NOW.” He waved his hand, and the room appeared. “Stay still or this’ll hurt.” He was completely focused now, hand drifting across your abdomen until reaching where he knew they were. “Take a deep breath in…” You did as instructed, and you closed your eyes in preparation of the pain.

It didn’t come, and when you opened your eyes he was standing above you, examining your appendix that he held in his hand. He turned to glare at you. “Do you know how serious this is? You could have DIED. Understand?” His eyes softened when you looked at him with guilt written on your face. “Look…just come to me next time. And every time after that. I…I know you’re scared of needles, but it’s better than how much pain this must have caused.”

“I’m sorry…” It was all you could say, and you rubbed at your abdomen instinctively. It was definitely still sore, but after he took them out it was already better. Not perfect, still…but better. “I know I shouldn’t hide things from you…in my defense I didn’t know how bad it could get.” You reached over and took his hand, and he gave a small smile for a moment before going back to his usual neutral look.

“We can work it out. Just tell me your symptoms as they happen. I can give you an answer for almost anything.” He sighed, and rubbed the back of your hand as he sat next to you. “I won’t even use needles if I can help it.” He wanted to say those words, but he was rarely the first to initiate it. But his words made the message clear. Even if he didn’t say it often, you knew.

“I love you too, Law.”

#x reader #gn reader #one piece x reader #request #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #tw; medical procedure #tw; reader in pain #law x reader #appendicitis #fear of needles

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stobinesque · 11 months

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talking could, if we'd just dare (you know that i'll forgive you), pt. 1

@steddie-week day 6: misunderstandings / "You Lookin' at Me Lookin' at You" by Ozzy Osbourne | ~5.5k words | G or T inspired by this post from @inklessletter!

If Eddie was being honest, he’d never actually paid that much attention to Steve Harrington. Sure, it was impossible not to know of him. But for most of his life it had simply been…unimportant, to know about the various goings on of the Class of ‘85’s royal court. Harrington was rich, a bit of a bitch, and kept company with other rich bitches, and so Eddie neatly categorized him with all the other pretty, rich jocks, and went about his day. Life was easier when there was an order to such things. Keep the smalltown, upper-middle class heroes to one side, and the freaks and degenerates to the other, and everyone could live in an uneasy sort of harmony until they walked the stage and left this rathole behind.

Of course, repeating senior year thrice had put a wrench in that plan.

Meanwhile, Dustin Henderson had thrown the whole damn toolbox into the whole not-paying-attention-to-one-Steven-MiddleName-Harrington plan.

And whatever the fuck was going on now had just blown everything out of the water.

(Or into the water, as the case may be—except the freaky parallel hellscape they’d all dove into seemed to be utterly devoid of the substance, so maybe the original metaphor worked just fine.)

So now he had to contend with the fact that Steve Harrington was a) a pretty nice dude to recent victims of smalltown witch-hunts who had just been thrust into what was apparently a years-long government conspiracy involving monsters and mind-controlling wizards, b) a bit of a dork, c) friends with a whole bunch of dorks, most of whom were four or five years younger than him, d) admirably—though perhaps self-destructively—protective of said dorks, e) just as much of a badass as Henderson claimed, and, most distressingly: f) extremely hot while doing so.

The being a protective badass part, not all the other ones.

(The other parts Eddie was retroactively filing under “adorable,” and “cute.”)

The expression Steve got on his face when Eddie lobbed his battle vest at him was also priceless, so at that point Eddie figured, fuck it. What did he have to lose from some harmless flirting? The chances of him making it out the other side of this both alive and un-incarcerated were dwindling by the second, and it’s not like he ran any risk of things going anywhere. (Harrington might be a good dude, and alternate dimensions and monsters and superpowers apparently existed, but Steve Harrington being anything other than a straight man with Traditional American Values™ strained credulity—and the Munson Doctrine—far past any acceptable limit.)

After all, if there was one thing that Eddie had actually learned from D&D, it was that a little bit of flirting and fun could take the sting out of any TPK.

🦇🦇🦇

If Steve was being honest with himself—which he’d been making a concerted effort to try to do since fall of ‘84—he could admit that his…jealousy…of Munson predated Dustin joining Hellfire. His whole climbing-on-cafeteria-tables schtick was kind of obnoxious, sure. But up until he’d wound up flunking his first try at senior year, Eddie'd had this sort of dorky-but-cool aura that Steve wished he was apathetic enough about other people’s opinions to achieve.

For a man who seemed to genuinely believe he was a coward, Eddie Munson was so…loudly and unapologetically himself. In Hawkins, Indiana—a place that quite literally wanted to kill him for how much of a freak he was. And, sure, some of that came down to the whole wanted-for-murder thing. But the man had also spent the better part of the past twelve hours flirting with a former jock—whom Eddie himself admitted to thinking was a douche up until a couple days ago!—so Steve had the sneaking suspicion that there was probably a corner of the town that already had it out for Munson long before Chrissy Cunningham’s body was found in his trailer.

And it wasn’t that Steve wanted to get into metal, or that Dragons game, or start wearing hand-printed t-shirts and attaching his wallet to a chain. He just wished that even after all the years of monsters, and government threats, and Russian torture, he didn’t still feel the need to hold himself to standards set by other people.

If anyone was a coward, it was Steve.

And there was something kind of…nice—reassuring, even—about the fact that Eddie seemed to feel the same way—but in reverse—about him. Like together maybe they could take the bravest parts of the other and make them their own.

And underneath it all, Steve could admit, was the fact that Eddie was…pretty.

So. Steve was having a bit of a crisis

“Robin, I’m having a crisis.”

“We’re all having a crisis, dingus,” she shot back, slapping at his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“No— no, not that.” Steve started emptying one of the bottles of vodka they’d procured into the half-dead grass. “I’m talking about the whole—” Steve waved a hand over towards where Eddie and Dustin were horsing around. “The Eddie thing.”

“Oh, you mean the fact that he’s been blatantly flirting with you since you got eaten by bats?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Robin, I’m talking about the blatant flirting.”

“And…why is that causing a crisis?”

Steve fish-mouthed at her. “B-because…” He leaned forward with a finger held aloft, ready to waggle it in her face. He paused. Frowned. “Well, because…” Steve threw up his hands. “I don’t know! A few days ago the man thought I was a douche. Literally just yesterday he was, like, hot-and-cold trying to throw me at Nancy, while also ogling my chest hair, and now he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and trying to get into my personal space? It doesn’t make sense, Robin!”

“Welcome to the club, buddy.” She raised her brows at him pointedly. And, yeah, that was fair, he guessed.

“And,” He started again, “And– I’ve also got Henderson insisting that I win Nancy back—he does seem to have finally dropped the whole are-you-secretly-dating-Robin thing, though, which—”

“Oh, thank god.”

“Yeah. But, on top of that Nancy has also been making eyes at me, but she’s still with Jonathan so I don’t know what to do about that. And it’s all just a mess, Robs! I’m a mess.”

“Yeah, well, that’s been true for ages, Stevie.”

“Thanks, Robin. That’s very helpful.”

“What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to tell me that I’ve got to ‘be myself,’ and put myself out on a limb with Vickie, while you’re out gallivanting with Helen or Jackie or whoever—”

“Heidi—”

“Whatever.” Robin waved her hand dismissively. “My point is: you keep throwing yourself at all of these girls who only know the old you—even if you’re trying to give them the new-and-improved model—and you haven’t even tried to go after a guy, and I think we both know why. And now you’ve hit the jackpot of what every tragic gay teenager in smalltown America can only dream of: you’ve got someone blatantly, and undeniably into you, who you also like back, and you’re telling me that you’re having a crisis? Need I remind you of the tableau we were treated to back at The War Zone?”

Steve sighed. “I know, Robs. You’re right.” Steve jammed a funnel into the neck of the bottle he was working on, and the two of them kept building molotov cocktails in the dying evening light, as Steve tried to reassure Robin that she still had a chance with Vickie—which she did, and Robin took his mind off his own impending disaster. But, if Steve had even a shadow of a chance of getting to hook up with a guy, Robin deserved to have a romance of her own. As much as Robin was afraid to see it, Steve was pretty sure he recognized that conflicted look Vickie’d had in her eyes when she’d spotted Robin in the store. There was something there, he was sure of it.

But maybe Vickie was like him. Maybe she’d only just learned this new thing about herself. Robin—and presumably Eddie—had had at least a couple of years to sit with this knowledge about themselves and come to terms with it. But for Steve (and Vickie?) it was still so scarily and terribly new. With girls, Steve knew how to play the field. He knew what was expected of him—what role he had to fill. But with Eddie a guy, all the rules went out the window; all of his scripts: useless. He’d have to start from scratch, and build something completely different from anything he’d been taught to want or expect before.

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, though. Because Robin was right: they had more important things—end-of-the-world shaped things—to worry about. His love life could wait. Eddie could wait.

They all just needed to make it out of there alive.

🎸🎸🎸

Eddie survived.

They won.

Eddie survived, and so did everyone else, and they won.

Eddie kept repeating it to himself, because he couldn’t quite believe it.

He couldn’t make heads or tails of the fact that in the end running away was exactly what he needed to do to make sure they all made it out in one piece—more or less.

He’d walked right out of hell with nothing more to show for it than a few scratches up his sides, and a ring of bruises ‘round his neck. In the end, Steve was the only person other than Red who needed a hospital stay of any kind, because what would have been manageable wounds on day one, had become life-threatening after days of infection and improper care.

A future in a state penitentiary also seemed to be out of the cards. There was probably nothing any of them could say or do to convince the general Hawkins populace of his innocence, but Dr. Owens and his ilk had crafted a cover story believable enough to win over Powell and Callahan, at least. More to the point, though: all charges had officially been dropped, and the case was closed.

Now there was just the mortifying process of figuring out how to move on. Or at least forward.

That was the part you didn’t see in movies. No one showed the recovery. Because what was so interesting about watching someone pull their life and body back together? As though healing wasn’t just as much a part of the story as the falling apart.

Eddie wasn't ashamed to admit that it was driving him a bit mad. Because these kids all seemed to be seasoned veterans at it. They hadn't just snapped back to their relatively-easy-going-but-bitchy baselines by any means—Lucas and Dustin especially seemed incredibly subdued in response to the extent of Max's and Steve's injuries, respectively—but they moved around one another with a care and familiarity that spoke to years of experience.

“How did you do this?” Eddie scrubbed a hand through his hair, yanking at the roots. He and Robin were posted by Steve's bedside—he still spent most of his days semi- to unconscious. And while Eddie didn’t necessarily think it made a whole lot of sense for him to be spending more time at Steve’s bedside than the kids did, Robin was only ever dragged away from him kicking and screaming, and as the newest member of the apocalypse posse above the age of twelve, he was in desperate need of her guidance.

“How’d I do what?” Her typically-raspy voice sounded paper thin, and there were deep, dark circles under both eyes.

“I don’t know—!” Eddie flapped a frantic hand around, like he could manifest words and meaning into being. Something about it made the corners of Robin’s mouth twitch up. “Any of it? You–you dealt with a flesh monster, apparently, and you’re just...walking around on two feet, probably ready to graduate—which is more than I could guarantee for myself—”

“Hey, you will—”

“Not the point, Buckley! The point is, up until this new bout of freaky shit popped into existence, you seemed like you were walking around Hawkins without a care in the world. So how’d you do it? What’s your secret?”

Robin scoffed. “If you think I was walking around without being terrified every day, you either weren’t paying attention, or you’re a lot less smart than I gave you credit for, Munson.”

Eddie grimaced. “Sorry, sorry. That’s not what I meant, I just…you seem like you managed to pull yourself back together—whereas I feel seconds away from total collapse.”

“Yeah, that’s not just a you thing.” Robin twisted one of her rings around her finger. “But you wanna know what kept me upright? It was Steve. I don’t think I would have made it through the last eight months without him. And I know he’s gonna be alright, but I am still terrified that something will happen and he’ll get ripped away from me.”

Eddie frowned. He didn’t think he’d been picking up on those kinds of vibes between Harrington and Buckley, but the way she spoke about him… “Are the two of you, like, a thing?”

Robin barked out a laugh. “No! Not at all. I mean, he is the most important person in my life, and I would both kill and die for him. But, like, in a normal, platonic way.”

“...I’ll take you at your word for the ‘platonic’ part, but there is absolutely nothing normal about what you just said. You two are freaky for each other.”

Robin giggle-snorted, and it scrunched her nose up in a way that filled Eddie with warmth. Despite everything about his…everything, he’d never been short on friends—but it always felt nice to find another one. “Yeah, yeah I guess we are.”

“Mmm…Bobbie? ‘Zat you?” The beeping of Steve’s heart monitor picked up a little speed, and the man in question’s eyelids fluttered open. Robin immediately unraveled from the folded-up position she’d adopted in the hospital chair, and reached out to take his hand into her own.

“Yeah, Stevie, it’s me.”

Steve squeezed her hand, before his eyes started scanning the room—going wide when they landed on Eddie. “Oh. Eddie.” A light pink flush broke over his face, and he averted his gaze almost as quickly as he met Eddie’s. That kept happening whenever Steve woke up, and Eddie didn’t know what to make of it, but it always left him off-kilter in a way he didn’t want or know how to put a name to. He always took it as his cue to leave.

“Well,” he started, with forced cheer, and a shit-eating grin. He pushed himself up from the chair and dusted off his knees. “I’m gonna leave you two lovebirds to catch up,”

“Not lovebirds—” Steve slurred, at the same time Robin exclaimed, “Ew, Munson!”

Eddie just cackled and sauntered off with a jaunty salute.

🦇🦇🦇

Steve felt like he was losing his mind.

He'd been out of the hospital for a few weeks now, but he almost wished he was back there, because every waking second was just a never ending parade of pain and confusion.

Fuck, why did almost dying always hurt so much?

The upside of being awake and ambulatory, was that Eddie had finally stopped running out of the room whenever Steve was awake for longer than two seconds. The down side—which was unfortunately directly connected to the aforementioned upside—was that Eddie was being weird.

And, okay, Steve had an admittedly shallow pool of evidence from which to draw his comparisons from. But the fact remained that Eddie’s behavior towards him pre- and post-Vecna-slaying were worlds’ apart. And he didn’t know how to fix it. He’d tried everything: playing coy, bringing him small gifts, finding excuses to talk to him one-on-one when the rest of the group was gathered together. But none of it seemed to work.

What Steve wanted was to just be able to rock up to the trailer with a bouquet of flowers and ask him out to a night at Enzo’s. But even without the whole recently-wanted-for-murder thing, the two of them going out on what was obviously a date in Hawkins was not only a bad idea, but actively dangerous. And without his typical romance rituals to fall back on, Steve was at a loss as to how to proceed, when the object of his affection was acting so damnably fickle.

“I just don’t get it, Rob. One minute he’s calling me ‘big boy’ and getting all up close and personal, and the next he’s looking like I killed his cat!”

“You have got to stop using other people’s trauma as analogies for your love life, babe.”

Steve waved a hand. “Mrs. Henderson’s not here.”

Robin threw up her hands. “And that makes it okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Fine, whatever.” Robin ruffled her hair in frustration. “Maybe he’s just nervous!”

“Nervous! Why would he be nervous?”

“I don’t know, Steve. Why are you nervous?”

“Because I like him, and I don’t want to get hurt again!” Steve shouted, startling himself by the force with which the words came tumbling out.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed. “I mean, it’s not just that, though, it’s…” Steve waved a hand into the open air between them. “I don’t know how to do this, you know? If this was a girl, I’d be thinking ‘oh, she’s playing hard to get—’”

“I can’t believe that’s a real thing people do,” Robin deadpanned.

“I mean, sometimes it really is just that they don’t like you—except that then they don’t keep trying to, like, hang out and joke with you—which Eddie does, he’s just hopelessly awkward about it.”

“Steve. Eddie is a hopelessly awkward person. It’s like a defining character trait.”

“Well he wasn’t with me.” Steve wiped a hand over his face and groaned. “I’m just nervous I misread the whole thing, you know? And if I did, and I ask him the wrong thing in the wrong way…what if he doesn’t want to see me again? Like, at all?”

Robin reached out and took his hand. “I hate that you have to know what that feels like,” she said, soft and careful. “But even in the wild event that Eddie is either a: entirely straight, or b: just not into you, I don’t think there’s any version of him that wouldn’t want to talk to you at all. So you should ask him out.”

“Okay, Rob,” Steve sighed. “Only on one condition, though.”

“Oh, no. Ohhhh, no you don’t—”

“You’ve gotta ask out Vickie,” Steve finished, holding out his hand with a smirk.

“Uggggh, fine. Deal.”

🎸🎸🎸

Steve was acting weird.

He’d been acting weird since getting discharged from the hospital—acting all shy and blushy one second, and then turning around and bringing him a new set of dice the next—but it’d really been cranked up to eleven for the past week.

And, look, Eddie knew he was new to the monsters-are-real crew. He knew that in order to make space for him they had to alter whatever their established dynamics were to fit him into them. But that didn’t account for the fact that all of a sudden Steve seemed to be completely unable to string two sentences together in front of him.

Maybe the two of them weren’t quite friends yet, but he missed the ease with which they’d been able to talk and be honest with each other only a couple of weeks ago. Hell, they’d had more chemistry together down in the Upside Down.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Maybe that had been the problem all along. Maybe Steve had finally clocked his doomsday-flirting for what it was, and was trying to establish boundaries. Eddie thought he’d pulled back since they'd all crawled out of hell—broken, but alive. As soon as the danger was clear there was no reason to play the bit anymore, right? It’s not like his flirtation attempts had ever been more than a way to liven up what had been an unmitigated shitstain of an experience. Sure, Harrington was pretty, and nice—and there was clearly more to him than met the eye. Eddie had really enjoyed getting to know him over the course of the past few weeks. He wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, if he was being honest. But it looked like the door was closing on that chance if he didn’t straighten things out.

“Hey, Harrington?”

“I thought I told you to call me Steve, Munson.”

Eddie smiled his ‘malicious compliance’ smile and clasped his hands behind his back, rocking onto his heels as he said. “Alright: Steeeve.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was a little smile on his face that belied the general bitchiness of the rest of his demeanor. “What do you want, Eddie?”

Eddie spread his hands out in front of him like he was unfurling a map into the air between them. “Just figured I ought to clear the air.”

Steve frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You know—the whole reason you’ve been all weird around me lately? I figured it’d be best if I put all of my cards on the table.”

The frown dropped off of Steve’s face—replaced by an expression that Eddie couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t…bad? There was no apprehension to be found there. Steve looked almost expectant. Hopeful, maybe. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense—but Harrington didn’t make a whole lot of sense, so maybe Eddie was just misreading whatever he was seeing there.

“You know it was all just in good fun, right? That it didn’t mean anything?”

The frown returned. “What are you talking about?”

“Back in the Upside Down. You know I was just messing with you, right, man? Just a bit of good ol’ fashioned I’m-about-to-die flirting, you know? Nothing to get all worked up about.” Eddie kept a wide smile fixed in place, tried to really lean into the whole ‘non-threatening gay guy’ vibe—an uphill battle for him, specifically on one of his best days. He’d do jazz hands if it’d help sell the performance any better. But each word out of his mouth felt more like a lie than the one before.

A thin fissure appeared on Steve’s face—a crack that Eddie could almost see through, but not enough to be able to make any sense of what was on the other side. “Oh,” Steve said. His voice was shaking and Eddie couldn’t figure out why. It set off alarms in the part of his brain that was always primed to run at the first sign of danger. “So you’re…not gay?”

Eddie frowned in confusion. Of all the ways he thought Steve might react, that was not one of them. So Eddie forced a laugh, trying to disarm the question. “Oh no, I am a flaming homosexual. I just want to make sure you know that doesn’t mean I’m interested in you.”

The frown slid off of Steve’s face, and the fissure smoothed itself away like it’d never been there. The Steve standing before him was blank-faced as a statue, and it made Eddie want to puke. In all his worrying about Steve being uncomfortable with the idea that Eddie was hitting on him, specifically, he’d entirely forgotten to be worried about Steve being straight up homophobic. At least he wasn’t throwing punches. That was something, right? But Steve was looking at him with such a totalizing coldness behind his eyes that Eddie felt like he’d been left out to sea.

Steve gave a stiff nod. “Right, of course not,” he said, but the words came out wooden. He threw a thumb over one shoulder and twisted on his heel, back toward the beemer. “I’ll just…I gotta go.”

And then Harrington turned his back to him, and walked away.

Eddie didn’t have a crush on Steve.

So why did it hurt so much to watch him leave?

⛵⛵⛵

Robin sped down the stairs when she heard the banging at the door. There weren’t many people who would bother turning up on her doorstep unannounced. Even fewer who would make such a concerted effort to try to knock it down with the force of their pounding fists.

She swung the door open to find a tear-stained Steve standing before her.

“What happened?” She gasped out. Was it back? It couldn’t be back. El and Will had both sworn on pain of death that it was over. Maybe there was a new horror in town? Maybe Nancy had gone missing? Or Dustin? One of the other kids? Maybe Eddie?

Steve cut off the racing of her thoughts with a sobbing gasp. “Nothing, Robs.” Somehow, he looked worse than he had after the Russians. His head was hung low, and Robin could swear there was a shadow of phantom-bruising around his eyes. Like he’d been emotionally decked in the face. He took a step forward to come inside at the same moment that she took him by the wrist and yanked him across the threshold.

“What do you need?”

“Bathroom,” was all he said. And then Steve swapped his-wrist-in-hers for her-wrist-in-his and he pulled her further into her own house, toward the second-floor bathroom. When they reached it, Robin plopped down on the floor with her back against the tub while Steve took up his position with his back pressed up against the toilet bowl.

“What happened?” She whispered.

Steve was silent for a long stretch of time. He turned his head to the side, as though he was trying to look out of the small frosted window high up on the wall beside him. “He doesn’t want me.”

“Who? What? What are you talking about, Steve?”

Steve turned back to face her. “Eddie. He doesn’t want me.” Steve no longer sounded sad—he sounded vacant.

Robin’s nose scrunched up like she’d smelled something wrong, because that didn’t make sense. Robin might not be good at clocking other gay people—she wasn’t that good at reading people, period—but it’s not like Eddie’s flirting with Steve had been subtle. And even beyond that, he was always looking at Steve while he was asleep in the hospital bed, in a way that Robin thought meant something… There was just no way that Eddie didn’t have at least a little bit of a crush on Steve, right? So what had he said to make Steve so certain about that he didn’t? “How d’you know that?”

Steve laughed, half-hysterical, as he tipped his head back onto the lid of the toilet. “He said it didn’t mean anything—the flirting.” Steve wiped a hand clear across the length of his face—chin to forehead—before digging his fingers into his hair. He laughed again. Or—it was more a puff of air, than anything else. And there was definitely no humor behind it. Just a bitter kind of resignation. “And then—he said—he told me he was gay, but that he just wanted me to know that it doesn’t mean he’s interested in me.” Steve covered his face with both hands and let out a broken sob. “God, he and Nance should compare notes.”

Robin could feel the lines carving an angry space between her eyebrows, and a fire in her heart. How dare he? Maybe Robin had misread Eddie's whole vibe toward Steve—but how dare he just trample all over and discard his heart like that? It didn’t make sense—but it was happening, and she had to fix it, because no one was allowed to break her other half.

“Hey Stevie?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.

“Yeah?”

“Where do you keep your little nail bat nowadays?”

🎸🎸🎸

Let it not be said that Eddie Munson didn’t know how to pull off a top-tier wallow. Ozzy’s pleading vocals were pouring out the speakers, while Eddie was laid star-fished out on the mattress, staring at the ceiling like it might give him answers, and torturing himself with the memory of Steve Harrington biting into the tail of a hell-bat.

Is it me or is it you?

Things are so much different now

But nothing lasts forever

He really should have known that whatever kind of rapport he and Harrington had going was too good to be true. Once a rich dickhead jock, always a rich dickhead jock, right? He almost felt bad thinking that. But what else was he supposed to think? The second Steve Harrinton had found out he was gay he’d turned his back on him. That was pretty cut and dry.

A loud banging at the trailer door cut through his thoughts and over the sound of Ozzy singing looks and glances can't repair, talking could if we'd just dare.

Eddie had half a mind to just ignore it, but there were even odds that it was one of the UD Crew as it was a member of Hawkins’ resident angry mob. So Eddie peeled himself off the bed, leaving Ozzy blaring behind him, and yanked open the door. “What—?” He started, but came up short when he registered an absolutely livid Robin Buckley staring back at him.

Eddie hadn’t thought to take into consideration the idea that the person at the door might be a UD Crew member taking up the role of angry mob members. But Robin Buckley was standing on his stoop looking half-ready to commit a murder. The second the door was open, she shoved past him and into the trailer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson?”

“Wh-what are you talking about, Buckley?” Covering his face with a piece of hair wasn’t enough—he wanted to melt into the floor. Had Steve really sent Robin to beat him up for being gay? That was some next level gymnastics in avoiding making physical contact with another man so that you don't seem gay.

Robin yanked at her hair and started pacing around the common area, glaring daggers into the floor (but thankfully not at him). “What am I talking about, he asks! You really are a medical grade idiot, aren’t you?”

“I—”

“No, shut up, I don’t want to hear it.” Robin abruptly swung around on her heel to rush at him and jab a finger into his chest. “You broke Steve’s heart. And I don’t care if you were never into him—because I know that you can’t help who you like, or love—but you had no right to be so fucking cruel about it!”

A penny dropped.

“Robin. What are you talking about?”

Steve was heartbroken? That didn’t make any sense. He should have been relieved, he should have—

Robin laughed, hysterical, and threw her hands into the air. “I am talking about the fact that you told my best friend who has been pining over you for fucking weeks that all of the very obvious flirting you’ve been doing ‘didn’t mean anything,’ and that you just had to let him know that you weren’t interested in him specifically.” Robin paused to take a deep breath and kept barreling on. “And I get not wanting to lead someone on, Eddie—but even I know that was the least tactful way you could have gone about letting him down.”

Eddie shook his head, backing up toward the nearest wall like a cornered animal, because what Robin was saying didn’t make any sense. “I— I don’t—I mean, I do like him. I thought he didn’t like me! I thought he was straight!”

That brought Robin up short. Her shoulders remained set into a tense line, and her brow was still furrowed in distrust, but some of the unrelenting ire slipped away. “You didn’t—? Did he not—? What the fuck, Stevie!” The last part Robin muttered under her breath.

“Did he not, what, Buckley?”

“He didn’t ask you out?”

“No. What? Was he planning to?”

“Yes, numb nuts! Steve’s been trying to ask you out for weeks! I mean I guess mostly this past week—but that’s because before then he’d just been trying to beam the knowledge directly into your head through your thick skull.”

“Oh, shit.” Eddie’s heart dropped into his stomach as the full ramifications of what he’d said caught up to him.

“Yeah, ‘oh, shit,’ Munson.”

“Buckley—” Eddie rushed over to clap both of his hands onto Robin’s shoulders. “Robin. I’ve gotta fix this.”

Robin rolled her eyes. They were still creased at the corners, but the rest of her seemed to have softened a bit. “Yeah, you do,” she said—all low and serious. “You’re gonna have to fucking grovel.”

Eddie nodded. “Can you help me?”

Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “But let me make one thing fucking clear, Munson: I am doing this for Steve, not you, capiche? You put one toe out of line and I’ll go to the Wheeler house and grab one of Nancy’s guns.”

Eddie held up his hands in placating surrender. “Message received, loud and clear.”

Robin nodded, satisfied.

Eddie grinned back. “Let’s go get my man.”

there is now a part two!

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie week #steddieweek2023 #steve harrington #eddie munson #(albeit a couple hours past mignight my time but that's just been my pattern thus far)#I don't want to put a steddie fic in the robin or st/bin tags but please know that robin is central to all things in steve's life #including this fic #for everyone who wanted a part two: it now exists #read writes

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godessanonymous · 4 months

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DR3 - Reminder

Request: No. Pairing: dom!daniel x bratty!reader Genre: just filthy ass smut thats all Summary: You and Daniel have been in a relationship for a while now, at a gala you decide to tease him a little, so he reminds you who you belong to ;) Warnings: use of bad language, toys, bondage, overstim, semi public sex.

Not proofread - 4.3k Words I have nothing to say for myself. This is filthy, like baaaddd but oh well hope yall enjoy.

You had started to work for Alpha Tauri about a year ago, that’s when you met Daniel Riccardo for the first time. A tall dark haired mystery of a man. You could never tell what his intentions were, mixed Signals all around. It started out with some harmless comments mostly complimenting you, then it turned into caring gestures like bringing you water after long Work hours in the paddock, getting you food when you didn’t have the time to do it yourself and at some point even driving you home. While you said you were friends neither of you could deny the tension that never actually left when you were around each other.

You had gone out to dinner a couple of times before but that was mostly with the team or just as friends. But this time it was different, Daniel had approached you after the race, he looked a lot more shy than his usual bubbly self made him seem. He politely asked whether you would like to go out with him that evening, you just looked at him confused before answering yes. His face lit up just enough for you to notice it, he said to pick you up at around 7.30 that evening and just sprinted off.

You were in your room at the hotel now, a pile of clothes stacked up on the bed from you deciding what to wear to tonight, you were still not sure, was this a date? How pretty did you have to look? After staring at yourself in the mirror for a bit you decided to go with something classic but not too over the top. You quickly did your makeup, since your outfit was simple you made your makeup look extra pretty.

Not too long after that he picked you up and took you to a cute restaurant not too far away. It was beautiful and that’s when he finally worked up the courage to talk to you about hist feelings toward you. You had to say you agreed, the way he looked at you, the way he was always so caring towards you made you slowly but surely fall for him. The night ended with a faint goodbye kiss and plans made for the next date.

All that happened around 6 months ago and Daniel had surprised you with a lot of things, but the most interesting thing was probably his preference when it came to sex. He was kinky, always down to try new things. He loved being in control. You had never done anything like that so a little hesitation came up in you when he proposed the idea of trying something new in bed. Despite feeling hesitant at first you quickly discovered how much you enjoyed his kinky fantasies, the more you tried the more things you found out turned you on extremely. Falling into submission gave you a form of freedom and forgetting about other struggles, even though you would eventually you also liked to be bratty, make him work for it. Sometimes even doing it in public just to get him worked up a little. He was insanely good at communicating what he wanted and what you were okay with, big on consent which is insanely important in these kinds of dynamics.

There came a day where you and him had attended a gala evening. A lot of influential people were there and it was a beautiful show to see all the artist and awards. You got a little bored tho, looking at the mad sitting across from you in a perfectly fitting black suit sipping on a glass of red wine. You had been throwing in little comments all evening, not listening to him and doing your little thing.

The show finished and you decided to go to the club/bar area for a bit and have another drink before going home. So you walked over to him. “ ill head over to the bar for a bit, tag along or come get me when you are ready love.” You whispered in his ear, he looked at you with his big brown eyes. “Sure, maybe ill come over later, just behave please.” You just smirked at him and walked away, Kika and Charlotte right by your side.

The bar was amazing, the drinks were too good not to drink more and soon you got a little too excited and hit the dance floor with Kika. Soon someone stole you from Kika and an arm snaked around your waist, you didn’t recognize the man that was suddenly taking up your view but you certainly didn’t mind it. You decided to hit him with the “ I’m taken” right from the start. He just chuckled at responded “Don’t worry, I just wanna dance, my friends are making me feel single.” Nodding his head in the direction of a pair dancing. You chuckled and decided to go with it, making Danny just a tiny bit jealous would surely lead towards a pleasurable night for the both of you right?

The guy was nice but once you spotted Daniels eyes basically piercing through your body you said goodbye and returned to the bar to order another light drink. You were a little drunk but not too much to lose control. You chatted with a guy sitting next to you a little bit before an arm draping over your shoulder made you look up into the face of a fired up Daniel. “Lets go home, looks like someone needs to be reminded who she belongs to.” He hissed into her ear just loud enough for her to hear it. Her heartbeat fastened and she awkwardly excused herself from the bar. Daniel was holding onto her waist tightly as they made their way through the crowd of dancing and chatting people.

He had called a uber and roughly pushed you down in the black seats of the car when it arrived. Once on the way to your destination you decided to throw caution to the wind and placed you hand on his thigh, slowly moving your way up. His big hand enclosed around yours and lifted it of his leg. “Oh love don’t do that, you’ve been working me up all night, hope you are ready for what is waiting for you. I’ll have you begging soon enough.” He said quietly and it made your heart jump in excitement.

The door clicked shut behind you and it took less than a second for his hands to grab your wrists and pin them above your head. Your breathing started to speed up as his body pressed you flush against the wall and his breath lightly caressing over the delicate skin of your neck. “You have no idea how much trouble you’re in pretty…” he said as his teeth sink into the skin of your neck. “What… I was having fun, nothing happened, I had a great time. Why should I be in trouble?” you asked innocently. He let go of your hands, one moving to your throat and one to your ass instead. He put just the slightest amount of pressure around your air way. A breathy whisper: “you know exactly what you did baby, you wanted this, so game on let’s see how long you can keep that attitude up little lady.” Shivers of anticipation ran down your spine. Hand still on your neck he slowly guided you towards the bed. He gently placed you in the middle of it. “Stay where you are. Clothes off.” Is all he said before he disappeared into the walk in closet to retrieve some goods for the night.

You decided to comply to a certain extent, dress off but the lacy underwear staying on your body as you moved under the blankets covering up your half naked body, acting like you were gonna sleep. It took a second before he returned, a box in hand. Seeing you didn’t follow his commands made a little fire light inside of him, he shot forward pulling the blankets off you before deciding you were not anywhere close to behaved tonight. Quickly grabbing your wrists cuffing them to the a bedpost rendering your hands unable to do anything. Daniel stood back up admiring your body laying on the perfectly white bedsheets. “So, since you seem to want it so bad, lets have some fun. But firstly color baby.” “Green”, “Game on the love.”

The tall Aussie settled between your legs, hand on your lower stomach to stop you from moving under his touch. He began trailing kisses down your body, hands following with the lightest touch.

You were already starting to get desperate for him feeling the stubs of his short beard rub against your skin. Trying to spur him on a bit you stuck out your chest a bit, he chuckled, finally moving on of his hands to slowly massage your breast making a soft moan escape your lips. “Already turned on huh love” he said stopping right above your belly button just hovering there for a second before moving up the length of your body in one quick motion. One hand lingered on your throat the other was now drawing small circles up your thighs. His lips crashed into yours dominantly making you gasp for air every chance you got. Daniel used the opportunity to enter her mouth with his tongue eagerly exploring it. You spilled a small moan into him has his hand moved over where you needed him most. Light fingers stopping on your clit, slightly pressing down, just enough to make you need some friction badly. The position didn’t allow you to do so, your lips escaped a tiny whimper. His weight lifted off your body as he sat up and dragged your pretty red panties down your legs. They flew somewhere to the ground next to the bed. The driver dragged a finger through your wet folds making you squirm. “Already all wet for me? So easy…” he murmured, wetting his finger and suddenly pushing it inside of you. His grip on your hips was impossible to move against holding you down. Quickly followed a second finder and you could already feel the knot in your core starting to build as he started moving painfully slow, curling his digits in just the right places. Your legs wrapped around his waist trying to relive some of the pressure you felt. A soft “Please” escaped your lips. “We have barely even started yet and you are already a whimpering mess, for that big attitude its surprisingly easy to have you in shambles don’t you think?” He responded with a grin on his face, you were slowly getting closer to the edge. That’s when he pulled out, you whining at the sudden loss of sensation. The weight on the bed shifted as the Aussies reached over to the box still resting on the bedside table and pulled out something you couldn’t quite identify, It looked like a bullet but it was a little too big for the ones you had seen and used before. He didn’t waste any time as he took the small vibrator and pressed it into you, it had a weird shape, one side resting fairly deep inside of you the other moving up around to your clit in a u-shape. Its small nature making it easy to slide in, yet it still took you off guard feeling it.

Danny held up a remote and smiled as he pressed a button making the device come to life. You gasp, it felt so good stimulating two spots at the same time. The Pleasure was insane. You were close again quickly not being able to form a coherent thought. As you were just about to release the buzzing stopped, making you let out a frustrated groan. Meanwhile Daniel got off the bed and freed your hands from the cuffs, keeping them together. He tossed a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in your direction. You were confused what on earth was he planning on doing. “Get dressed. We are going on a walk.” As it slowly dawned on you, your punishment was not getting to come, you hated it so much. His dark eyes looked at you warningly as you reached between your legs. “leave it where it is” Your eyes widened. Hesitantly you got up and put on the clothes he had tossed your way.

He lead you to the elevator and down onto the sidewalk of the road along your building. It was almost 12AM on a week day so no one was around this area anymore. You could still feel the u shaped vibe between your legs and you started walking, Daniel didn’t say anything so you just followed him. After a couple of meters he finally started talking. “So I have a challenge for you hun. We are going to take a walk and ill have some fun with our little friend here, if you manage to keep walking and not be loud maybe ill rethink my decision on not letting you finish today.” He smirked. “Color baby” “Green”.

He started on the lowest setting, it was pleasant, stimulating but nowhere near strong enough for you, every corner you passed he went up a level. At level 4 is when it started to be a challenge, the constant friction of your walking and the vibration between your legs making it hard to not atleast breath heavier. You knew he route the two of you were walking in the cold breeze, you’d do this a lot when you were in need of fresh air, it wasn’t long but you still had a good bit to go when the knot started to build in the middle of your core. Reaching level six you were struggling to keep up with Daniels Pace, desperately clinging to his arm as you passed another corner, you only had 2 to go, your breathing got heavier and Daniel gave you a challenging look as you gripped his arm even tighter as the pressure increased. You were approaching the door of the building as you felt your legs starting to give out. You bit your bottom lip trying not to make any noise. Daniel just watched you enjoying your struggle. Your nails dug into his skin as you reached the door, letting out a heavy sigh once you were inside. “Good Girl.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but feel proud that you had managed. Or so you thought. The buzzing hadn’t stopped. It just went down to a pleasant humming, not allowing you to get any further in your need to finish.

The ride up to the apartment was quiet, too quiet. He pushed the door open and closed in a quick motion hungrily biting marks into your shoulder as he pushed you onto the bed, stripping your clothes of in the process. “Time to teach you manners kitten.” He said reaching for you arms and you could feel the semi soft rope slowly tighten around them as he started to form a harness around your entire body. You wanted to move, be bratty but you were too deep into submission already to stop him from doing what he does best. Hands locked in place behind your back, legs spread and secured by a rope connecting to your back you were unable to move anymore, enjoying the feeling of anticipation of what he would do next.

He rid himself of his shirt, you admired the muscles of his chest in awe. The wonderful sight was soon taken from you as a blindfold slipped over your eyes, vision going black. “Before I go on with making you regret being bratty, do you remember your safe word love?” He asked with a beautiful gentleness in his voice. You nodded. “I need you to say it.” “Tulips” “Good Girl.”

You heard the box moving and the U Toy leaving your body in the same second, you were about to protest when the emptiness was replaced by a lubed up dildo pressing into your middle. You couldn’t hold the loud moan escaping your lips as he pushed it in inch by inch. You wondered how big it was, you couldn’t see it so you never saw it coming when it started vibrating making you scream in surprise. It had bottomed out by now, hitting everything deep inside your core. Moving it a little bit Daniel started to kiss your tense body all over, you were trying to move with the pressure getting too much but your restrains simply didn’t allow you to. Daniel moved to your breasts starting to suck on one of your nipples, you whimpered at the pleasure spreading through your body. “Danny- Please… please can I come.” That’s when the buzzing stopped and he pulled of your chest. You let out a whine. “You know the rules, only good girls get to come. Why don’t you apologize for your actions first.” The toy came to life again and you let out a scream. You tried to form words but couldn’t get them out. “Use your words.” He said teasingly, turning his attention back to your boobs. “im- i- Im sorry okay Danny, I wanted to make you jealous-“ is all you could say before the pleasure took your ability to speak again. “Is that so?” You were one second away from falling over the edge when he pulled completely off of you. “UGRH you dick I was so close.” “I know, but I have to finish preparing you properly, don’t I? And don’t give me that attitude if you expect to finish today.” He said, his voice dropping and the tone not leaving any room for argument. You swallowed heavily. You were so desperate.

His hands moved down your body once again as he loosened the knots around you ankles giving you a little bit of your freedom back. He rolled you over onto your stomach placing a pillow below your hips to make it a little bit more comfortable for you. Knees pressed open to your sides Dann had perfect sight of your third hole. Instead of working something in like you thought he would you screamed at the stinging sensation as his hand lands flat against your ass. You screamed, Tears pooling in your eyes. “One..” SLAP “two” … “Ten.”

By the time he was done you were a sobbing mess, the pain feeling equally as bad as good. His rough hand slowly moved across your sore cheeks making you whine even more. “You took that so well. I think its time to move on to something more fun.” He said, sliding a finder up and down your middle.

You already new it was coming, but you still jumped at the sudden sensation of the metal plug against your slit. Moving up and resting on your asshole. It was a little bit cold but you liked that as a contrast to your burning, sweaty body. “Do you think you can do it?” Daniel asked. “Yes Sir, I can.” You answered now fully committing, no more games. He pulled the blind fold off your eyes, squinting trying to ajust to the half lit room. “I want you to look at me while I work it in.” he said already massaging the tip of it in. You forced your eyes to stay open and on the gorgeous man behind you. He had pulled his shorts down along with the boxers and you could see his hard length as he stroked it while working the plug at the same time. He took it slow, the stretch burning impossibly hard as he slowly made his way in. A loud moan escapes your lips as it slides home the big of it resting inside you now. Daniel whispers a quiet fuuccckk before sliding the dildo back inside you moving it in and out at a good speed now. You moaned his name as the fake dick pushed against the metal in your ass with every time it slipped in. The vibrations jumped to a all time high and pleasure got almost to much to take. “Danny please can I cum?”

“you know what mouse, ill give you a choice, either you stand your punishment like this and get to cum once later, or ill let you come but ruin you till you cant come anymore. Hm? Take your pick, you’re gonna be a mess in the end anyway.” He said, knowing both options were going to be torture in the best way for you. You couldn’t even get your mouth to open and Daniel to decide for you as he slammed the toy in all the way. Making you come on the spot, it was the hardest you ever released. You screamed his name in pleasure and you body wanted to move so bad but the firm hand on your ass and the rope around you body kept you from doing so. The high of our O made your mind foggy and make you feel floaty. The male didn’t stop moving, he worked out all the way through the orgasm making you moan even louder with the overwhelming sensitivity of your body. He slowed down for a second as you began to come down from your high. “How many do you think I can pull out of you today? Lets do 4 more shall we?” That is when you realized what you had gotten yourself into, if they were all this intense you wouldn’t make it past number 2 without passing out.

He loosened the rope and it fell of your body as he rolled you back on your stomach. “Stand up.” He commanded, you gave your best to comply standing on shaky legs. You still had strength but the slight aftershocks of your orgasm where still rocking through you. He sat on the side of the bed and tapped on his thigh signaling you to sit down. You comply glad not having to stand anymore. “You wanna cum kitty, go ahead, get of on my thigh then.” He said, looking at your desperate eyes. Slowly you start to move against him, his flexed thigh muscles giving you the perfect pressure against your clit.

You were breathing heavy , trying to get enough air in your lungs to recover after your forth orgasm of the day. Quiet pleas falling from your lips. “I need you Danny” you whispered. “You will get me love, I cant wait any longer. Color?” “green” you pant, you were a mess, body hurting impossibly but the pleasure was bigger than your urge to rest. You needed him inside of you. He wanted to come as well. Not wanting to wait any more he fished a condom out the box and covered his hard cock with it. Back on your stomach he moved one of your knees over his shoulder basically folding you. Without further waiting he slipped inside of you, despite all the preparation of today he still stretched her far, he finally bottomed out and slowly started to pick up pace the angle making the feeling of him even more intense, he was rough, demanding and you could feel he was close. His fingers found your already overstimulated clit and started drawing slow circles around it, you were so close again and you felt him twitching as well. “please Danny, I need to come” you panted not sure how long you could hold on anymore. “Beg for it love, beg.” He said, even though he was impossibly close as well. You looked at him with foggy eyes, “please Daniel, ill be good- please- I need you-“ You whimpered. “together…fuck” he moaned realizing he cant put it off any longer as your walls clenched around him and he combusted shortly after, both your bodies shaking. “Oh my baby I love you.” You said as your body started to slowly come down from the overwhelming last high that left you almost light headed. Your body went limp.

He pulled out of you panting heavily. Before you could fall limp against the pillows he flipped you over and swiftly and painlessly as possible pulled out the plug that had rested there for the night. It hurt but not bad, you felt empty without the toys in you. but you appreciated the calm As you rested against his sweaty chest. You stayed like this for a couple of minutes until he got up grabbing two towel from the bathroom as well as a bottle of water. He returned to bed starting to clean you up, even the soft touch of the towel making you squirm a bit. “You did so well love, well done.” As he cleaned you up and lifted the water to your lips while cleaning himself up. You were thankful for the cool liquid making your throat feel so much better. You passed it back to him as he got up again and quickly washed off the toys before returning back to bed. Your mind was still all foggy and with the little you had left in you, you moved closer to him, his arms closing around you protectively while he whispered praises in your ear. Kissing you softly. After he noticed you returned to reality a little bit more he asked how you were doing, you just smiled at him and said “that was amazing dan, so Great but everything hurts” He couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah that’s the point. Are you gonna behave now?” You shook your head and both laughed. His hand was stroking your hair and you slowly fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.

As much as he liked being rough, and dominant he also loved taking care of you after, its what you both needed.

i told you... if you made it to the end, congrats your mind is as dirty as mine. As always feel free to request any driver x reader pairing. im open for anything.

#formula one smut #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #dr3 x reader #smut #k

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 24 days

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idk if this is something you would answer but how do you unlearn shame of being horny 😵‍💫

hi anon,

this is a complex question. unlearning shame of any kind can take a long time to sort out, and will be driven more by internal work you do to challenge and shift your own thinking than by anything else.

a good place to start may be by doing some reflection as to what you find shameful about being horny in the first place and working back from there to recognize sexuality and desire as morally neutral things.

for instance, I get a fair number of people asking if it's okay to think about real people that they know when they're horny, or masturbate to fantasies about those people. they feel a lot of shame about this, as if they're causing harm to these people by imagining them in sexual scenarios. but making up funny little scenarios in your head to nut to is a harmless act that only you will ever know about. it's not like whipping out your dick (gender neutral) and masturbating at strangers on public transit; what you do to get off in your private time only impacts you.

a problem would only arise if you decided to start treating your real, actual acquaintance, not the imaginary sexy version of them, differently, for instance by making untoward comments about their body, treating them as if they are obligated to be interested in spending time together or having sex with you, or, god forbid, telling them in detail about your sexual fantasies. now you're doing sexual harassment, which is inappropriate because of the hurt and discomfort is causes the recipient. being horny isn't the problem here, it's how you're treating another person.

people also feel a lot of shame around many other types of fantasies, especially if they involve dynamics that are off-limits or illegal in real life. often, the worry seems to be that being aroused by these imagined scenarios is akin to expressing support for these things to happen in real life.

listen: sexual fantasies about rape are some of the most commonly reported among cis women, and that's not because tons and tons of cis women secretly think that rape is a cool thing that should happen more. the people playing Baldur's Gate 3 and fucking Halsin while he's wildshaped into a bear aren't all chomping at the bit to commit a sex crime against a real animal. noticing that "teenage" characters on TV played by actors in their 20s and 30s are hot does not make anyone a pedophile. fiction is a safe realm to explore and enjoy things that we would never in a million years want to see happen in real life. I love Batman, but I can assure you I would not be a happy camper if a real-life billionaire started running around doing vigilantism in a fursuit while endangering a gaggle of teenage sidekicks.

and if you want to explore some of the stuff you're into in real life, awesome! great! there are ways to go about negotiating a lot of different kinks safely and responsibly (although probably not the bear thing, sorry about that). the world is full of people who want the experience of being stalked, beat up, kidnapped, and sexually assaulted - all mediated through pre-negotiated arrangements with people that they have chosen to enact these fantasies with them. so what is there to be ashamed of in that situation? sure, the situation you're engaging in might sound scary without proper context, but so do a lot of things. a stranger cutting open my skin, very likely causing bleeding, and leaving me with a mark that I'll have for the rest of my life sounds scary, and it definitely would be if it wasn't a situation that I agreed to! but that's also what getting a tattoo is, and that's an experience that I love so much that I pay for the pleasure. nothing to feel bad about there as long as you're playing safely!

listen: there's nothing wrong with being horny. the human sex drive is a completely natural one born from biological need that makes getting off feel good. there's no more sense in feeling shame about being horny than there is in feeling shame about being hungry or needing rest, although people do of course manage to feel bad about those as well. regardless of what causes it, when you feel the shame well up you have to push back on it and ask yourself who actually directly benefits from you feeling badly about yourself in that moment, and who is actually tangibly hurt by the actions you're shaming. and if the answer is "no one," move it along!

#sex edventures 2024

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triforce-of-mischief · 7 months

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legend is a peacekeeper, not a bully. in this essay i will-

heck yeah i'm doing this for real, let's go.

let's take a closer look at his initial list of traits:

"chooses not to be a leader type." so, this is a guy who has the experience and maturity that he could take charge, but has consciously decided to leave it to the elder links. taking responsibility for eight men and boys is a lot, and legend simply doesn't have the energy and/or personality to keep it up at all times.

"the most reliable, you want him on your team." legend is a good person to be around! the others genuinely appreciate his company! i love how this is worded; out of a lineup, legend would be chosen.

instead of calling out to wild or trying to physically stop him (both pretty dangerous moves around somebody with a nocked bow and arrow), legend simply shoots wild's arrow out of the sky with his own. which is a pretty sick move itself. sure, now wild will have to replace that arrow, but it's hyrule. you can't go two feet without finding a vendor. anyway, we don't get to see wild's reaction but it must not have been extreme because legend is calm around wind moments later. even when they're still getting to know each other, legend makes the right move.

legend just gives away an entire freaking fire rod. that's pretty significant if you ask me. he doesn't trust the others with his secrets, but he's willing to provide tools for the job.

this is a playful quip during a lighthearted moment. wild probably knows about the impression that he gives off, and he doesn't seem upset about legend pointing it out.

then, legend's mood immediately shifts to serious as wild reveals the full extent of his scarring. he settles into a mediator role between wild's casualness and time's concern.

as stated before, legend is worried about people breaking his stuff. wild isn't bothered by the veteran's attitude, as he clearly just wants to get in, grab his stuff, and get out.

twilight: "i don't know what his problem is, but you shouldn't let him push you around like that." sky: "oh it's fine. it's harmless. he just doesn't give a second thought about his attitude is all. trust me, people like him aren't bullies." twilight: "hmm. that's very true."

THIS. COMIC. any time legend is stereotyped as a bully, i just point to this comic. sky says it himself: people like him aren't bullies. i could stop there, but why would i? sky mentions legend's attitude; i think that legend genuinely isn't always aware of the tone of his words. he says what he wants to say, and it can sound blunt but he never means harm by it. also, note legend's body language in the panel i chose. his hand is behind his head, likely touching his neck. that's a self-soothing gesture and a telltale sign of nervousness. whatever legend's saying, he's not as confident as twilight thinks he is. sky sees legend as he truly is, and that's what's important.

the prior subject being everybody else fruitlessly guessing at the monsters' motives. it's late at night, the heroes are probably tired, and the conversation is clearly going nowhere. therefore, legend takes it upon himself to lighten the mood. heavy topics can wait for tomorrow; now, the mystery of wild's arrows will make for a sufficient distraction.

legend may be used to being a loner, but he pays just as much attention to the others. he frequently joins small conversations and, at the very least, will observe from close by.

this is arguably the only time that legend's teasing continues at the expense of somebody else. it's not an isolated attack, though. all of the eldest heroes are in on the bit, except for time who lets it happen with a resigned look on his face.

apologies for the lack of legible conversation, but i really wanted to demonstrate the range of emotions that these two go through. legend and warriors bicker like true brothers; tempers flare for a split second before legend realizes that warriors is purposefully making a mountain out of a molehill. they take turns balancing snark and sincerity, and no harm is done from their initial disagreement.

once again: THIS. COMIC. legend is a bit disappointed by the thwarted attempt to tease, but wild makes it obvious that this is not the right time or place so legend acts accordingly. legend tries to make amends by asking a question as he returns the diary, and all hints of prior teasing are gone when he offers not one, but two apologies. legend and wild might be different in many ways, but legend knows all too well how it feels to lose a loved one.

legend is aware that he's not the best with words. this is both a subtle jab at himself, and at time- since the elder has taken the leader role, he needs to act like it. legend is reminding time that he needs to be better about praising his group after a hard-won battle.

by bringing up the topic of magic swords, legend is the one who caused a moment of tension in the first place. when four quickly tries to ease the mood, legend easily agrees.

legend loses another few points here: he's too fast to assume the worst, then snaps at wind as tempers run high after a rough battle. thankfully, things seem to be fine again by the time they make camp.

all right, old man, angst time is over. legend isn't thrilled to have to be the one to speak up, but at least time is done being cryptic and creepy.

it's not the most ideal subject change, but thinking about ganon is certainly easier than being helpless to wild's plight.

can we just... appreciate how legend didn't hesitate before stepping through the portal first, alone? if that's not selfless, i don't know what is.

once again, it's time who doesn't realize that his words are hurtful. legend diffuses the situation, leaving twilight to console sky about the master sword.

this argument has clearly been repeated for however long legend and wild have been traveling together. even though legend is likely older than wild, he doesn't attempt to force the champion to go with his plan. even one on one, legend chooses not to take the leader role, simply trying to get wild to listen to reason. when four shows up, wild reignites the bickering before legend sighs and admits defeat. as long as they're actually going somewhere, legend knows that there's no point in arguing anymore.

legend is pretty set on making twilight admit that he's the wolf- until they're attacked, and legend's thoughts go right back to the group. he then touches the crystal which causes another distraction, but it's important to note that, yet again, legend quits teasing when there's something more important to focus on.

twilight points out that legend's teasing isn't supposed to be hurtful. self-defensive, yes, but legend chooses to be this way- even if it's not ideal, he thinks it'll stop him from getting hurt again. so why would he use his quips to bully the others, if that's exactly what he's avoiding himself?

legend isn't used to asking for help, but what's the first thing he does? he says thank you! then sky picks up on his awkwardness and it's the skyloftian's turn to introduce a distraction.

while the others heroes look nervous or just solemn, legend is embarrassed. twilight and sky were egging four on just as much, but legend still sees it as a personal failing that he didn't act more maturely.

legend coming in clutch with another small quip that he hopes will cut the tension. time's interrogating the kid, who clearly doesn't want to give away the elder's story. legend lets them carry on with their important conversation, but kudos to him for trying to lighten the mood prematurely.

twilight is out for the count with time, sky, and warriors going to help. so, legend acts as the temporary leader even though he's not accustomed to it. nobody listens to him unless he physically drags them away from a fight, but he still tries to keep the team safe.

legend so badly wants to check on twilight, but he knows that four is right. his restless energy then returns and he wastes a few minutes arguing with the smaller heroes before storming out of the inn to look for help.

and finally, we have the rare instance of legend wanting to be the peacekeeper, but not knowing what to say. he hasn't left twilight's side since he recovered, but that doesn't mean that he knows how to react to wild's poking at midna. thankfully, wild backs off and legend is able to remind twilight to save his worries until he has his full strength back.

so, there you have it! hopefully that was more than enough proof to convince you that legend is a pretty great guy, not the bully that people are so set on making him out to be.

#linked universe #lu #linked universe legend #lu legend #lu analysis #making a list as i go of things i appreciated about legend:#floofy bangs (wanna touch)#forearm waow *victorian maiden mode activates*#soft smile <333 #that skirt tho #THAT SKIRT THO 👀#power gloves helloooo #side profile hoooo boy #PINK HAIR BAYBEE #SAD EMO PINK BOI *sobs*#HIS FACE I FORGOT HOW EXPRESSIVE HE IS #IN CONCLUSION I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM

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