#now onto encore!

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

okay you know what. i joked about it before, but i'm actually kind of tired of the automatic response to maxwell's actions in encore being "he has a plan" or "he's playing double agent" or something along those lines. he might be, he might not be- currently we don't know. but the point of the matter is in the grand scheme of things that doesn't really matter.

it feels as though people aren't really paying attention to the fact that charlie is. you know. manipulating him? that she's playing max like a god damned fiddle? that the entirety of encore was seemingly planned from the very start?

lets go through the short again piece by piece:

maxwell starts off alone. considering that- at the end of the short, the others eventually found him- they couldn't have been too far away from him. this implies that charlie was waiting for a proper moment to strike, rather than simply coming in at any random time.

not only did the rose vines actively trip him, and not ONLY did he fall directly in front of a newly overgrown statue of him, but he ALSO fell in the direct line of sight of a rook. this is not only a presumable act of emotional manipulation (she pretty much picked him up and dropped him right in front of a big sign with "Fuck You Idiot" written on it), but she also purposefully endangered him! do you really think its just coincidence that this animation completely dominated by chess metaphors begins with an attack from a rook? if it was just there from happenstance, it would have gored maxwell alive after he fell unconscious. its presence was entirely pre-planned. she wounded him completely on purpose.

i really don't even NEED to talk about all the flashback scenes. if you don't understand how that's manipulation i'm sorry but you're a little bit too far gone. seeing charlie as he knew her before- seeing the good memories he had with her, seeing the success he had, and seeing how he ruined it all with his obsession over the codex. pre-encore update he couldn't even LOOK at the codex without thinking about her. she could be about to kill him and he STILL tried reaching out to her. he's been waiting his entire LIFE for this conversation- to apologize, to speak with her. and when he finally gets it, it's charlie who dominates the conversation. who twists it so he can't even get the words out.

"if only you had let me in". accompanied with the previous flashbacks, that line alone is horribly insidious. and the worst part is, it isn't incorrect. he should have done that- back when he had a chance to fix his mistakes. but that isn't what charlie is referring to. the past can't be altered- they both know that. the only reason charlie is saying this at all is to goad him into siding with her. to picking the choice she's pointing him in the direction of. "you didn't let me in before. it ruined your life- my life. our life. obviously you're going to make the same mistake now."

whether its a hallucination or dream or not, being haunted by and in the clutches of shadow creatures is bound to take a toll on his sanity. even with the benefits from his suit. the terrorbeaks, the watchers, the flashbacks, the presence of the woman he hasn't seen in decades. if you don't think that's taking a toll on his mind you're lying to yourself. when charlie phantoms up the chess board, you can see it squeezing him, and him wincing in response. even after it lets him go, he can't do anything but pant on the floor. vision or not, it is having a tangible effect on him

after everything charlie does, she cleans him up. but the thing is, everything wrong with him (aside from his hair, pretty much) was her fault. tripping down the hill, the bruises from the rook, his mental disarray from her shadow creatures. she's undoing what she willingly plagued him with- but in a way that gains his favor, despite the fact she was the catalyst

the use of the rose- the same thing that linked the two of them when times were less troublesome- again plays into that insidiousness of linking the past and the present. if it was the correct course of action back then, it must be now, right? she's using not only his emotional attachment to her, but his remorse for the wrong course of action to make him think this one is the right one.

NOT TO MENTION, CHARLIE'S KIND OF LIKE? GOD? I DON'T THINK HE COULD SAY NO TO HER EVEN IF HE WANTED TO? SHE'S GOD?

in conclusion, if the nightmare conglomerate that used to be your ex waited until you were alone, jumped you on the street (which hurts), sicked one of her goons on you (which hurts), uses her nightmare creatures to psychically and physically torment you, brought up the parts of your past that you- to this day- are horribly scarred by, tells you that she'll forgive you "but only if you make the right decision this time", cleans you up and fixes your wounds from the jumping and the gooner attack and the psychic torment (all her fault), then "gives [you] a chance to right [your] wrongs", AND she's also god? sorry. you're not going to say no.

sure, he could feel regretful about it. he could be planning to go against her. he could have figured out her game from the very beginning. but everyone who's clutching their pearls over maxwell's 'betrayal' is acting like charlie just shot him a business card or something. i would NOT blame him if he thought- in that moment- he was doing the right thing.

#dontstarvetogether #dst maxwell #i still dont know how to tag encore #dst encore #idk #ALSO DON'T COME ONTO MY BLOG WITH CHARLIE HATE EITHER. I LOVE CHARLIE. I THINK SHE SHOULD HAVE MANIPULATED HIM TWICE ACTUALLY. #BUT SHE *DID* MANIPULATE HIM. THATS KIND OF IMPORTANT. TO THE PLOT RIGHT NOW.

[ridleymocki]

(seeing so many bad faith interpretations of the argument, y'all are really going to make me do this, okay HERE WE GO)

.................................

What Ed says: "I think last night was a mistake. I'm not ready for... Whatever this is."

What Ed means: "I didn't want last night to happen so soon or under those circumstances. Things are changing rapidly, which makes me feel out of control and scared."

What Stede hears: "I regret sleeping with you. I don't want the sort of relationship that you're after."

.................................

What Stede says: "It was a fine fish. It was... whatever. I was just trying to make you feel good!"

What Stede means: "I only cared about the fish because you cared about it, and I care about you. I liked the fish because it made you happy. Ordinarily, I'm ambivalent about fish."

What Ed hears: "I lied to you. I didn't care about your achievement I was just placating you to get what I wanted."

.................................

What Ed says: "Here's the news: I'm leaving. I got a job on a little fishing boat and I'm leaving. I'm a fisherman now."

What Ed means: "I think I need to be away from you to figure out who I am, because I haven't been able to do that while we're together, and your lifestyle now is the life I'm trying to leave behind."

What Stede hears: "I've made a decision to leave you and have a life without you. I don't value what we have enough to work with you to find a solution, I'd prefer to end it."

.................................

What Stede says: "Oh, Ed. Seriously? You're not a fisherman."

What Stede means: "I think you're using this plan to escape and avoid your problems. It sounds like you're pretending to be someone else. It seems to me like an impulsive decision and I am concerned."

What Ed hears: "I don't support this ambition. I think you're incapable. I don't think you can be different from what you have always been."

.................................

This is the kind of analysis done in therapeutic environments. When I put what they mean, it's not just a rephrasing but a boiling down to the core issue. I could go on to the rest of the dialogue but do you see the continuing ship-in-the-night miscommunication?? It's tripartite:

failing to express one's current emotional reality with the most accurate and clear language, often because that reality is not fully understood to oneself,

misinterpreting the other's language, due to preexisting sensitivities and defensiveness about one's own understanding of the situation,

increasing frustration and sense of personal attack that results from those misinterpretations, which perpetuates and worsens the poor communication.

Importantly, this kind of pattern means you miss the best and most important kernels of communication in an exchange because you're reacting to the more inflammatory parts.

Stede: "This can be whatever we want it to be." (I am willing to make changes to our arrangement so that you're happy). Ed: "I don't even know who I am! Alright? I know I don't want to be a pirate. And you, you're blowing up, you're the toast of the town." (I think we want different things. You're just starting a journey that I've already finished).

With those two bits alone they could've sorted this out. The first is the answer to the second. But they didn't -- couldn't -- latch onto it because all their other baggage was getting in the way.

And I'm being proven correct that this is what is happening, because I have seen next to nothing on here about the above two lines, only reactionary takes of fans also focusing on the inflammatory parts because of their predispositions. You're doing an encore performance of what they're doing.

Point being, there are no bad guys in this scene, just repeated system failure!

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #blackbonnet #ofmd #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death s2 #ofmd meta #something something cracking up on the rocks #cocktail name? my mental state? who knows!

[formosusiniquis]

This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

---

“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

[hannieehaee]

can you write something about sub joshua.. it’s been on my mind ever since seeing him in the skirt during the follow encore 😭

18+ / mdi

content: sub!joshua, afab reader, smut, mentions of oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1285

a/n: u and me both anon

masterlist

this wasn't a good image for you.

i mean, you were never one to be overtly horny or act up in public, but to be fair, you had not been warned about this beforehand.

no, you had to find out at the same time as every other carat as your boyfriend stepped out on stage in yet another outfit change, except this time his stylist had decided to have him don a skirt – a skirt!

and so you watched from the sidelines. you watched, with thirst in your eyes and a mouth fully agape as your boyfriend danced to his heart's contentment on stage, all while wearing a pretty and flowy skirt that had you salivating at the sight.

his pretty thighs were on display, with every single move of his hips teasing a new inch of skin for everyone to see.

everything was fine at first. you contained your thirst for the boy well enough, knowing that acting up in between sets would be slightly problematic. the real issue arose at the end of the concert, when joshua went to find you backstage, already changed into a pair of jeans and completely nonchalant, acting as if he hadnt just been provoking you on stage.

that's when you did something you'd later be embarrassed about.

grabbing onto his hand, you dragged him back to the dressing room. fortunately for you, the dressing room was now empty, only containing the apparel the staff would have to put on the boys the following day.

locking the door, you pushed him up against it, attacking him with a deep kiss.

joshua, being just a man, reciprocated the kiss with no question, too exhausted to try and take control and simply appreciating the pretty girl loving on him.

the kiss grew nastier by the second, with you licking and sucking at his tongue all while pulling at his hair. the kiss was followed by a trail of even more kisses, leading down his neck and to his ears.

"joshie?" you breathed against his ear.

"yeah?", he gasped out, hands digging into your hips as a silent way of pleading at you to not stop.

"put on the skirt for me?"

"w-what? the skirt?", the request woke him up a bit, not understanding the sudden nature of it.

"need to see you in the skirt, joshie. looked so fucking pretty ... so fucking good for me, joshie," you went back to licking into his mouth, hands restless as they undressed him.

"you liked it? i-"

"i loved it, baby. you looked so pretty. need to ride you with it on, fuck ...", you shuddered at the thought, "wanna see it up close, baby. be a good boy and put it on for me?", you gave him eyes you knew he couldn't resist, now withholding your kisses from him as he pathetically tried to chase your lips.

"ride me? here? fuck, okay. i'll put it on. c'mon."

it only took a few minutes for joshua to find it among the pile of clothes hanging on the rack, having frantically searched for it while you sat back on the couch and slowly undressed yourself, giving him a taste of what he'd get if he followed direction.

finally finding it, joshua took off his current clothes at the speed of light, even tripping during the process. the thought of your obvious thirst for him in a pretty skirt had him feeling lightheaded. and the idea of you riding him here, while anyone could walk in, made him reel.

"oh, joshie ... so fucking pretty, shit ... c'm'ere, pretty," you gestured for him to come to you, immediately switching positions with him and sitting him down as you straddled him.

your lips went to his own just as he sat down, hands feeling him up all over. shirtless and with only a frilly little skirt on, you felt him up in a way that could only de described as disrespectful.

but he loved it, moving his body as close to where your hands were touching to feel more and more of your touch. he moaned pathetically throughout, whining extra loudly when you began grinding your bare cunt against his cock through the thin fabric of the skirt.

pulling up the skirt a bit, you pulled out his dick from underneath, caressing the tip with your thumb to make him cry out a little more.

he still had his cute little face stickers on his face, with his brown hair contrasting the skirt perfectly and making him look like the prettiest little thing you'd ever seen. he was making you lose your mind. sadly, you were in public, so the most you could do to him was ride him, not having the chance to do all you wanted to him.

in an ideal world, you wouldve been able to get on your knees and worship him, kissing up every inch of pretty skin of his thighs as you made your way up to his weeping cock. then, you would've slowly licked up every vein and spent a good while licking and sucking at his tip, up until he cried for more. only when he was crying at you to please give him more would you have engulfed his entire member in your mouth, making him cum all over his pretty skirt.

you voiced all these desires into his ear as you finally lowered yourself down on him, making him groan louder at every single detail of your fantasy. with a cry, he promised to bring the skirt home with him if it meant you'd make good on your promise.

in the meantime, you bounced on him like a crazed woman, groaning any time your eyes opened enough to see the pretty prince under you. he was the prettiest you'd ever seen him, so delicate and needy, completely unlike the confident and cocky boy you saw on stage.

"so pretty, joshie ... you're the cutest thing i've ever seen," you moaned, softly tweaking at his nipples.

crying out at the stimulation, joshua cursed out, letting out nonsensical babbles as he threw his head back against the couch, back arching and hands tightening around your hips.

"baby, i'm gonna- gonna fucking cum, please!," he begged for nothing in particular.

he didn't need to beg, you were going to give him whatever he wanted no matter what.

"cum for me, okay, baby? wanna feel you cum in me. fuck ... fill me up, pretty ..." you cried, doing everything in your power to speed up your orgasm so that you could cum with your pretty boyfriend. your hand went down to your cunt, circling your clit in desperation as you tightened even more around joshua.

at some point he must've gotten desperate, humping his hips upwards as his orgasm blinded him from all senses. his noises got so loud you had to hold your hand up to his mouth, muffling him as he screamed behind it.

biting your lip, you attempted to quiet yourself down too, finding your own high at the way in which joshua cried under you. the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes had you losing your mind, making you simultaneously coo and moan at the sight.

when you finally rode out your high, even continuing to ride your boyfriend after his own orgasm had ended, you finally let yourself fall against him, heavy breath as you felt his warm skin.

"will you really steal the skirt for me?", were your first works against his chest.

"will you fuck me like this again?", he managed to let out through his lack of breath.

"is that even a question?"

"then hell yeah," he chuckled breathlessly, clammy hands still on your hips.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread but i had to get this out of my mind my bad</3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #seventeen imagine #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua fanfic #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #joshua oneshot #joshua scenarios

[ghouljams]

your fae!Ghost is so deliciously Sleep Token coded the sex and gore turmoil mhm i’m eating it up and licking my fingers anyways please encore!!

Your feet are killing you, these heels aren't made for running but you'd still put them through their paces. Now you're paying the price.

"You missed your train."

You look up from where you've crouched, following the dark tone to its source. Some guy in black with his hood pulled over his head and a skull print face mask. The light of the station just barely catches his eyes where he looks down at you. He offers you a hand to help you up and you take it, let him take your weight as you stand. When you release your hold, his grip lingers just for a moment, before his hand is stuffed back in his jacket pocket. He's got a weird vibe, but not enough to turn you away.

"It happens," You tell him with a shrug, opening your bag to rummage through it.

"Not to you." You glance at him, frown. What's that mean? The guy tips his head to one side, studying you. Your fingers slip against your keys, and grab on tight. Any small measure of defense is a smart one. Your skin bristles, something squirms just under the surface, uneasy (or perhaps excited) by the man's presence.

A train blows past the platform, whipping the stuffy air in the underground around you.

"Try to stick to your routine," He tells you, his voice rumbling with the clack of the train's wheels, "makes things easier for me."

"What?" Your fingers squeeze tighter around your keys. You glance around the empty station for someone to be witness to this, and when you look back he's gone. Maybe you'll walk to the next station and wait for your train there. You check the clock on your phone and- That can't be right, you just got here, but... No wonder the station's empty it's already an hour past rush, and right on time for your train to roll up to the platform. You look up as the doors open with a hiss, and quickly make your way onto the sparsely populated car.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x oc #ghost x reader #1fae1 #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x oc #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #fae!ghost #stalker!ghost #oc: love #you're a freak dude stop doing that

[finelinevogue]

you’re okay

summary - you’re anxious but harry will always be there

a/n: im so nervous about hslot tomorrow so i thought i’d write this <333

“There he is!”

An encore of cheers for Harry fill the room as he runs in all sweaty, taking a short ten minute break before his encore.

His all black outfit is something to make you melt from how hot he is. You don’t even think he actually understands how gorgeous he looks right now. His hair is disheveled from running around on stage and his clothes are sticky with sweat.

You want to go up to him and give him a hug and a kiss for the show so far, but your anxiety roots you to the sofa.

You don’t even think you have anything to really be anxious for, but sometimes your nerves and shakes come over you when you least expect them. Your chest feels like it’s hollowing and your stomach feels like it’s swimming with butterflies. They’re both horrible feelings and you can’t seem to stop them. The shake in your hands in your only tell, to other people, as well as your bouncing knee.

Harry hugs a couple of people and he’s passed a water bottle by Brad. He guzzles it down quick and thanks him afterwards.

He then spots you, sitting in the plush velvet couch that he brings on tour with him. A sofa you both picked out together and Harry can’t be apart from.

Harry is quick to crouch down in front of you, putting a ring-filled hand on your knee to control the nervous tremors.

“Baby, what’s got you all anxious?” He asks softly, trying to keep his volume low so people don’t start to listen in.

“I don’t know.” You say, teary eyed slightly. “No. I’m fine, i’m fine.” You shake your head defiantly, convincing yourself more than Harry.

“It would be okay if you weren’t fine, you know?”

You nod your head and notice your foot now bobbing away because your knee couldn’t.

Harry keeps his focus on you. He doesn’t deter for anyone or anything.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You begun shaking your head instead and look down at where your fingers are fiddling with each other. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to think of ways to keep your tears back.

“I don’t need an apology, baby. If you need to apologise to anyone, it’s yourself, because you should be kinder to yourself.”

He moves in a little further towards you, using another hand to cup over your smaller ones. He holds onto you tight, grounding you.

“Sorry.” You barely whisper.

“I have to give fifteen more minutes of myself to all those people out there and then i’m completely yours for the rest of the night, okay?”

“Completely?” You look at him with hopeful eyes.

Normally Harry is busy whisked away to complete various business tasks or music recordings after his shows, but his words carry hope that it’s just you and him tonight.

“Absolutely. We can do whatever you want. The Harry Potter movies are on Netflix now, we could do a marathon? Or just watch ‘Goblet of Fire’? I won’t even get jealous when you fawn over Cedric.” He giggles and you can’t help but give a small laugh back.

You take the time to notice your hands have stopped twitching now, thanks to his, and your leg bounces are a lot calmer.

“Can we get a Dominoes takeaway too?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to call it in now, so it’ll be ready for us at 10:30, okay?” He squeezes your hands for reassurance. “Just promise me you’ll be okay for another 15 minutes. I’ll be as quick as possible.”

“I promise. I feel better now anyway.” You smile genuinely.

“Good.” He leans over to kiss your hands softly.

“H? We need you back now.” A member of the crew calls for him across the room.

“Go be brilliant.” You tell him.

“Go be brave.” He replies.

He stands up and leans over to kiss you, promising a proper kiss when he returns. For now you just enjoy a little kiss with your sweaty boyfriend.

He kisses the top of your head before turning to leave the room, screaming as he leaves; “I love you Y/N!”

All because of Harry does your anxiety slowly disappear and the warmth spreads over your heart once more.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles love on tour #love on tour #love in tour edinburgh

[loveburrowx]

Performance

Request - Y/N performs with her group and Joe is her biggest supporter

A/N - This is my first fluff story! Enjoy!

As the first note of the bass drum echoed through the cavernous arena, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline course through her veins. She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she prepared to step out onto the center of the stage. This was it; the moment she had been training for her entire life. She was the main dancer and rapper in a group of four ladies, and tonight's performance was going to be one for the books. Little did she know, her boyfriend Joe was in the audience, about to witness the show of a lifetime.

Her heart raced as she glanced around at the sea of faces, the lights reflecting off of their eager expressions. She couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over her as she took in the enormity of the moment. The group's choreographer had outdone herself with their latest routine; it was sexy, sultry, and full of energy. Y/N knew she was going to absolutely kill it tonight.

As the first verse of their latest single began, she stepped forward, moving her body in perfect synchronization with the music. The crowd erupted into cheers, and she felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips. This was what she was born to do; this was her purpose. And as she caught a glimpse of Joe's beaming face in the crowd, she knew that he felt it too. He was the reason she danced, the reason she rapped; he was her everything.

The choreography grew more complex as the song progressed, and Y/N found herself lost in the movement, lost in the music, lost in the moment. She felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins as she executed a series of intricate dance moves, her body glistening under the stage lights. The audience was on their feet now, shouting and screaming, their energy feeding off of hers. She could feel her heart racing, but it only seemed to make her dance better.

The solo performance was finally upon her, and she took a deep breath, stepping forward once again. The music switched to a slow, seductive beat, and she began to unleash her inner siren. Her hips swayed, her body undulated, and her movements were both fluid and powerful. Every move was for Joe, every breath was for him. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin, and it only made her dance with more passion, more fire.

As the final notes of the song faded away, she stood before the crowd, her chest heaving, her heart racing. The cheers were deafening, but all she could focus on was Joe's face, his beaming smile, and the way his eyes never left hers. In that moment, she knew that she had given him everything she had, and that he was proud of her. And in that moment, she realized that no matter what happened in the future, she would always have this memory; the memory of dancing for Joe, and the feeling of his love surrounding her like a warm, protective blanket.

The rest of the concert flew by in a blur of music, lights, and movement, but for Y/N, it was as if she were still standing alone on that stage, her heart beating in time with Joe's. Even as she shared the spotlight with her fellow group members, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and peace wash over her. This was where she belonged; with them, and with Joe.

The final encore came and went, and as the crowd began to file out of the arena, Y/N made her way backstage, her body aching from the exertion of the performance but her heart full to bursting with joy. She found Joe waiting for her, a huge grin on his face, and she couldn't help but laugh as she collapsed into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his embrace.

"I knew you were going to be amazing," he whispered into her ear, nibbling gently on her lobe. "You are incredible, you know that?"

Y/N leaned back, looking up into his eyes. "I couldn't have done it without you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're my everything, Joe."

He smiled down at her, his eyes shining with love and admiration. "And you're mine," he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Always."

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would always have this moment; this memory of the night they danced together, their love burning bright on the stage.

The afterparty was a blur of music, laughter, and champagne, but for Y/N and Joe, it was a quiet oasis where they could escape the chaos and revel in their own little world. They danced together, slow and sensual, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. They ate and drank, savoring every bite and every sip, knowing that it was a celebration of not only their success, but their love.

As the night wore on, they found a quiet corner of the room and collapsed onto a plush couch. Y/N nestled herself into Joe's side, feeling the warmth of his body against her own. He ran his fingers through her hair, tugging gently on the ends as he watched her, his eyes filled with tenderness.

"I love you so much," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the music.

He smiled down at her, his expression softening. "I love you more." And even though she knew it was impossible, she felt her heart swell with happiness at the thought.

They spent the rest of the night like that, lost in each other's company, lost in the moment. As the sun began to rise, signaling the end of the party and the beginning of a new day, they knew that they had created a memory that would last a lifetime; a memory of love, of passion, of two souls intertwined forever.

Hand in hand, they made their way through the crowds of revelers, stepping out into the cool morning air. The city lay before them, still asleep but bustling with life, and for a moment, they stood there, taking it all in. Y/N leaned into Joe, her head resting on his shoulder, and she felt the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart, and she knew that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

As they started to walk, their fingers laced together, she glanced up at him, her eyes shining with love. "Where to now, handsome?" she asked with a grin.

He smiled down at her, his gaze never leaving hers. "Well," he said, "I was thinking we could grab some breakfast, maybe take a walk along the beach...?"

She laughed, her head tilting to the side. "Sounds perfect," she replied, squeezing his hand. "Just you and me, huh?"

He nodded, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Just us," he said. "Always." And in that moment, as they walked together through the city, their future stretching out before them like a blank canvas, they knew that no matter what challenges they faced or how the world might change, they would always have each other. They would always have this love.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #nfl #nfl football #nfl imagine #explore #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #aesthetic #y/n

[euijoosorangeslice]

are you taking sunoo smut reqs? can i req reverse idol au where (dom)sunoo is the reader’s fan who catches her eye during a concert & it leads them fucking backstage?

kim sunoo x reader

V. I. P

you were doing your encore stage, in your tight skirt and small top with frills all over. being a solo artist, you practically could wear whatever you’d like at your concerts. you sat on the edge of the stage, dangerously close to all your fans. waving at them as you sang, you leaned in to one in specific. he had beautiful blonde hair, and the most gorgeous face you could have ever seen. you two held eye contact, watching him smirk as he licked his lips

you giggled, leaning forward and tugging on his collar. you pulled out a marker, writing your number on his white button up, with a small smiley face at the end. you pulled away, on your knees on stage and finished your song. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop gravitating towards his presence. it had to have been a once in a lifetime experience to meet someone as beautiful as him.

as the show came to a close, you gave your fans one last goodbye as they were leaving the venue. of course, you rushed backstage to check your phone. just as you arrived, your phone began to ring. you chirped in excitement, picking it up immediately.

a sweetly toned voice began speaking from the other end. “hey beautiful. im at the back door waiting, if you want to put my v.i.p pass to use.” you giggled, opening the back door to reveal that same sexy, blonde devil from earlier. you pulled him inside, going into one of your changing room that you used in between sets.

he smashed his lips against yours harshly, feeling up your thighs as you whined in his grasp. his firm grip on your inner thighs made you feel hot, almost grinding into the touch. you opened your eyes, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to feel a little more pleasure. he chuckled, removing his shirt and unbuckling his belt that was holding his jeans up. “let’s see if the sex is as good as you look.” he muttered, rubbing the back of your thighs. he lifted you onto a nearby table, placing you on the edge.

but by now, all you could think of is how nice he would feel inside of you. without thinking, you pulled off your panties (which were already pooling with your arousal), and lifted up your skirt to reveal your core to him. the room was cold, which made you shiver from the feeling against your folds. things were moving fast, but you didn’t have any complaints. he began kissing your thighs, licking and sucking as you tried to resist the temptation to moan.

“i can tell your holding back, baby. just let me help you relax.” he whispered, rubbing your folds slowly. he spread your legs even farther as he dipped his head down and began licking up all of your slick. you pushed his head deeper in, relishing the feeling of your heat being eagerly sucked at. “please, please make me cum.” you begged, voice high as you stuttered out another moan. this couldn’t be real. this had to be some weird dream you were having.

he sucked your clit, slipping one of his fingers inside of you and pumping it in and out repeatedly. your legs began to shake, pleasure increasing as he added another finger. “never thought you’d taste this sweet.” he spoke against your clit, making you whine and roll your hips. “more, more.” you chanted, brain corrupted from the nature of your actions. no dream could ever imitate the feeling of his plush lips against your clit. he looked up at you through your legs, your body tensing.

his fingers sped up inside of you, making you almost cry from pleasure as you came. your legs shook harsher than ever, head falling back against the wall as you moaned loudly. you could only hear him steadily slurping as more and more of your juices began to leak out of you. before you could come down from your high, he dropped his boxers and slowly slid himself inside of your hole.

“so sorry, precious. i just couldn’t wait any longer.” truly, you had no complaints, since you have been wanting this for what felt like forever now. his slow pace was short-lived, because as soon as you reacted positively, he sped up. his hips rocked into you harshly, making you gasp for air as your body was pressed in between his and the wooden table. you moaned as he used his fingers to toy with your clit, making the table rock against the wall as he thrusted rhythmically. you weren’t the only one making sounds, because his grunts were almost louder than you.

you couldn’t believe how easily you had landed yourself here. getting dicked down by a stranger you had just met no more than an hour ago. but this stranger felt unmatched to any sexual experience you’d ever had, making you grab onto his shoulders as he rocked deeper into you. “yes, yes, ah- fuck yes.” you couldn’t stop yourself from repeating as he kept hitting deep inside of you. you noticed his movements becoming less organized, and by his groans you guessed he was getting close too.

“i-im cumming!” you squealed, feeling your orgasm slam across you like a rouge wave. the pressure that had built up in your abdomen had released, making you spray the man in front of you as you came. he let out one last moan, burrowing himself deep inside of your walls to finish. you dropped your body weight, the man holding you close to him. as you came down from your high, you started to admire his face a little longer. suddenly, realization hit you.

you had just let a complete stranger have sex with you before you even knew their name.

but as if he could read your mind, he spoke out.

“sunoo. kim sunoo. and you might want to think twice about letting random men fuck you unprotected.”

so this devil was in fact real, and he did have a name.

#kim sunoo #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen sunoo

[hey-august]

WC: ~513 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x afab!reader 🍒, PIV sex, vaginal fingering, oral - reader receiving, eating a creampie, dirty pillow talk buggy, mention of misuse of devil fruit powers

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

buggy loves an encore performance. kisses that demand more affection, turning into steamy makeout sessions. your hand on his wrist as you keep his fingers deep inside and you beg to come again. sex that his mind plays on repeat until he’s knocking on your door in the middle of the night to ask for another round.

there was one encore he used to dread. not the performance itself, but the lead-in. 

sometimes, buggy can’t hold out while fucking your sweet cunt and he comes first. you just feel so goddamn good and he can’t help it. and after creaming your insides, he’s too sensitive to keep going until you finish.

you would tell him that it’s okay - he took care of you earlier, so it’s not a problem. and you can always do it again later. you don’t have to finish now.

everything you told buggy was true, but you kept one honesty for yourself. and maybe you shouldn’t have held onto it for so long. 

eventually, you confessed that it was a huge turn on when he couldn’t control himself. when he finished before you. when he came too quickly. he almost didn’t believe you until he saw it painted on your face and felt it in your body. you’d scratch his shoulders and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close enough to smother him in wild kisses. that wasn’t you trying to pressure him into continuing, but an excess of passion brought by his inability to control his own desire.

so what about the encore?

once buggy understood you weren’t disappointed or hurt, he put his all into a performance that would send you to the fucking stars.

the moment his dick vacated your body, buggy’s mouth and fingers found their way home. his head would settle in place between your trembling thighs. his lips sucking your tender clit and fingers delving into your heat. and he’d use what little breath left in his chest to say the filthiest, sweetest things.

he’d tell you how fucking delicious you are. that he could eat you all day, every day. this is the meal he looks forward to the most. he’d beg for you to come on his face. to let your pussy squeeze his fingers. he’d tell you how good you feel on his tongue. how he loves dragging it along your clit until you squeal. how he wants you to squirm more when his tongue delves deep in your pussy. he would make you beg him to use his chop-chop powers to go deeper and taste every bit of you.

but what pushes you over the edge are the lewd slurps as he sucks you clit and laps up your slick and his dripping cum. he always has one arm hooked around your leg so he can pull you ever closer as he devours you like a feral animal until there’s nothing left and you’re an empty shell. 

only then is the performance finished and buggy takes his final bow, even if you’re too far gone to applaud.

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #x reader #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut

[rainswept]

# THE MOON IS BEAUTIFUL, ISN’T IT?

— lyney, freminet, navia : 272, 213, 206 words respectively. these don’t really make much sense tbh.

# LYNEY : love. bouts of flattery overflowing from a mouth full of bleeding gums, bouquets of rainbow roses neatly tied together in a pretty silk bow; words slipped like cards between fingers past his teeth that are pleasing to the ear but do naught to soothe the ache beneath the skin. stiff movement, perfected performance, smile lines on a face that has seen nothing but tragedy; swooning, blushing, grinning; bright spotlights, pried open eyes blind to it all. cries for an encore are like a bandage over a profusely bleeding wound that just won’t stop, won’t quiet down. gods, he’s so tired of encores.

but he is not tired of performing. the desire to still swells beneath his skin like the blood that sustains him — it always has. but it is beginning to feel like a cut forcing that deep-seated thing to the surface instead of passion, forming a wound instead of flushed cheeks, painful and slow and agonizing as it bleeds him dry. but at least now it is familiar.

dreams that leave him in a haze, warmth settling in the pit of his belly instead of knives, bread as a peace offering, hands held tight in the face of peril, soft breaths entwined without a single kiss and gentle touches to gnawing wounds. moving away from a fireplace when it gets too hot only to return moments later when you forget the feeling of being singed; a garden overgrown with rainbow roses to the point where they almost look as if they began growing wild, unbridled and free and passionate and imperfect.

which is love to him? he doesn’t quite know.

# FREMINET : tears. he thinks his tears threaten to overflow the rushing sea, bleed into the waves until he dies in a water that cannot drown him. marks that linger as memories fade, reflections on the surface of the sun; the deteriorating seashells picked up from the shaking sand at the bottom of the ocean, forever moved by the presence of another. soft touches and fleeting wishes, dry lips with sobs seeping between the cracks like water, begging for a reprieve from the loneliness that strives to swallow him whole unlike like the sea he loves so dearly — a threat versus a plea, a soft embrace instead of a bruising hold. he doesn’t know which is which.

shaky hands held beneath a star-filled sky, glistening teardrops so plentiful they mimic the galaxies and the sea alike. currents swelling beneath fingertips and seeping beneath skin as he sinks until he can no longer see. screaming, yelling, silence, cries and wails of anything but sorrow, knives to throats and blood spilling beneath a red moon to taint shallows that were never pristine in the first place. tender flesh, calloused fingers, sharp nails digging so deep into each other you could nearly get cut. you pray to the archons that the indents in your unwounded skin scar.

# NAVIA : comfort. a warm dessert melting on the tongue, meringues, saccharine and soft; a hazy memory doused in vanilla and egg whites. beds of flowers whistling in the wind, head leaned against the base of a tree, soft strands of golden hair twirled between fingers and tangling in the grass; forehead kisses, sunsets, lighthearted giggles turned to laughs so plentiful they make your chest ache.

navia wraps her fingers around yours like she never wants to let you go — it’s tender, loving, sweet, and oh so far away. the look in her eyes is distant, clouded, guilty; she gazes at the floor, the ceiling, the corner of your mouth. anywhere she can find and grasp onto but your eyes, or your lips, or your heart, or your soul — her eyes are like the moon over the water, you always told her, and the moon’s view of anything you truly want it to see has been hidden away by a fog rolling in on the horizon.

a doomed ship sails straight into the fog blanketing the sky like it wants to protect the moon to a fault. as you hold her hand tight, aware you’re watching it, there’s an innate sense it will not come back.

#⟢ rainswept ⊹ #lyney x reader #freminet x reader #navia x reader #idk what this is goodnight

[angelshimaa]

@maeby-cursed :: congrats on your 300 followers, you deserve a kiss for each one because of how sweet you are ♡ (i'm your biggest fan, i should know). may i have izuku (shocker !) + prompt 30 from holiday events: only listening to christmas albums with fem!reader ? a/n :: hi darling !! thank you so much, i hope you enjoy this as much as i did :))). fem!reader, talks of him wanting to marry you, sort of a song fic.

event.

the smell of baking cookies sits in the warm air of the kitchen and you feel a little warmer the more you dance to the festive music sounding from your speakers. you're putting on a proper show, your wooden spoon serving as your mic and it's clear your one man audience is entranced.

izuku's pretty eyes glimmer with amusement as he stands near the cupboard, his green christmas pajamas making his eyes more vibrant than they already are. his freckled cheeks are rosy with colour, a permanent grin tugging at his lips and oh, he couldn't be more content than he is right now.

when the song draws to a close, he gives you a round of applause, cheering with laughter that bubbles when you take a bow.

“thank you, thank you. the next show will not be free.” you're breathless, heart hammering against your chest. you sit your spoon down onto the counter and walk closer to him, hand outstretched so as to gently tug at his. he follows at his own accord, slippered feet shuffling closer to you.

izuku places a kiss on your lips, chaste and sweet before he follows it with yet another.

“i’ll pay any price for an encore, angel.” he still needs to remind himself to catch his breath when he’s this close to you, his heart pumping something electric into his bloodstream as if he might pass out without it. you smile, those gorgeous eyes of yours holding eye contact and he fears he might dissipate into a puddle of adoration.

you watch the colour in his cheeks grow— there's nothing better than how quickly you make your darling izuku short-circuit, and you don't think you’ll ever tire from watching him stare with that puppy love looped over his features.

the next song is one you both love and it has a slower rhythm to it; perhaps the shuffle feature can read the room. it's instinctive, the way izuku's scarred hands find themselves sliding onto your waist and you don't waste your time bring your arms around his shoulders.

have yourself a merry little christmas.

the two of you sway gently to the music and izuku knows you love the soul in sinatra’s voice— he doesn't miss the wonder shining in your eyes every time a song of his comes on.

let your heart be light.

the line rings true for the two of you, yet you're sure the domesticity of this moment might make it weigh heavy with love.

“you’re stunning, baby.” izuku almost whispers to you, ever so soft-spoken. you thank him tenderly, glowing in the feeling of what you think must be home and you can't find it in you to not kiss him.

it starts with one and becomes a series of pecks that don't last long enough for him. still, it drives him mad how you grin between each one that he tries to deepen— you know exactly what you're doing to him.

next year all our troubles, will be out of sight.

the thought of a next year, and a few more plays like a delightful record in izuku's mind. the thought of more festive seasons with you, ones where he can dance with you in his pajamas and call you his wife, ones where his ring for you glimmers so prettily on your finger, only reinforce the sort of future he wants with you.

how is he ever supposed to leave you when you look at him like that?

the song drags on and you two are comfortable in your own bubble. so comfortable, in fact, that you don't realise the cookies were meant to be taken out until the smell of something burning overwhelms your noses.

when you do finally take out the scorched cookies, laughing at how ruined they are, izuku hopes his future has more of you and your christmas music in store for him.

✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3

#deku x reader #deku x you #deku x y/n #mha izuku #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha deku #mha x you #mha x y/n #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x y/n #izuku x reader #deku fluff #𝅄 ۟ ✧ — angel's gift event ·˚

[im-a-wonderling]

Clumsy, Clumsy ~ George Weasley

This is part two of Is It Still Punishment if It Was Worth It?, so be sure to read that first!

Warnings: bullying

Word count: 2.6k

“Don’t make the mistake of forgetting your essay on Angel’s Trumpet Draught for next class,” Snape said in his cool snarl, the dim shadows of the potions classroom throwing sinister shadows onto his face. “I expect no less than 24 inches of parchment.” After letting his words sink in, he sat at his desk. “Dismissed.” 

The other Potions N.E.W.T.s students shoved their textbooks into their bags, chatter filling the air as they filed out of the chairs, leaving their cauldrons where they were. 

As I slowly placed my ink bottle into my book bag, I kept my eyes on Cassius Warrington, a massive Slytherin in my year. He had a handsome face, to be sure, but it was his recently updated status as a member of the Inquisitor Squad that I cared about. 

Before my detention with Umbridge, I didn’t concern myself with the Inquisitor Squad. Their blatant Slytherin favoritism added with my natural rule-following tendencies made any concern of them irrelevant. But now, thanks to my detention last night, I’d been thrust into the spotlight, and I couldn’t count on that combination any longer. I couldn’t rely on them to simply take away House points either, because taking points away from Slytherin would punish them as much as it would me. They would likely find other, more creative avenues of punishment. 

“Y/L/N,” said a cold voice. 

“Yes, Professor Snape?” I said, looking up to see the potions master looming next to me. 

“Do you have a reason for loitering in my classroom?”

I immediately put my bag strap over my arm, gathering my parchment and my textbook into my arms. “No, sir, sorry, sir.” I ducked my head and shuffled out of the classroom, subtly glancing both ways before following the rest of the students up the stairs to the Great Hall for lunch. 

I only made it five steps.

BANG!

I fell forward, only managing to catch myself before my nose hit the edge of a stair. The contents of my book bag, however, were not so lucky. The thuds of my books, the flip of my rolls of parchment, and the crash of my inkpot created a symphony of chaos, but the only encore was laughter. 

“Clumsy, clumsy,” said a gruff voice. 

I looked up into the leering face of Warrington. Cheeks burning, I reached for my wand to clean up the mess and hurry past, but it’d been in my book bag and was now likely among the mess. 

“Don’t go and do anything stupid,” warned the voice of Pansy Parkinson, who flanked Warrington on one side with her arms crossed and her nose in the air while Gregory Goyle stood on Warrington’s other side, a menacing smile on his face.

I lifted my hands, showing I meant no harm. 

Warrington’s mouth spread, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth with such malevolence, he looked like a bloodthirsty beast. “Aren’t you going to clean up your mess?” Pansy giggled, looking thrilled at the prospect of watching me collect my stuff. 

They wanted to see me humiliated?

Fine.

When one’s greatest care isn’t pride, it costs nothing to grovel. 

Staying on my hands and knees, I grabbed my empty book bag. My copy of Magical Drafts and Potions had fallen open to reveal a picture of Arsenius Jigger, the author. I reached out for it. A black dress shoe nudged it out of my reach. I crawled forward another step, reaching again, and again it was pushed out of reach, this time accompanied by derisive laughter. 

The third time, the black dress shoe didn’t intervene, allowing me to pick up my potions textbook. After hesitating, I picked up A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration without any intervention from my spectators. And my rolls of parchment. And the few wayward quills. 

Soon, the only thing on the stairs beside my knees was the puddle of ink that was gradually flowing down to the bottom of the staircase. If I could just find my wand, I could clean it up with the Scouring charm.

I looked up to see Warrington twirling a thin hickory stick between his fingers. 

My wand. 

“Oh, d’you want this back?” Warrington asked, feigning as if he’d just realized what he was playing with. 

A show, I reminded myself, give them a show. “Please,” I said, infusing my voice with panic. I considered making my chin tremble but decided that was the wrong kind of pathetic to pretend to be. 

My wand froze. “Clean up the ink first.” 

Mimicking desperation, I looked down at the puddle, as if I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do. Then, I slid my cloak off my shoulders, dabbing at the black cloud. The house elves would be able to clean the ink easily, it was only a momentary situation. I was thankful I left my potion ingredients in the potions room, otherwise it might be frog livers that I was cleaning instead of ink. 

Finally, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding my dripping cloak with one hand and my bag with the other, looking up at the deviant expressions far above me. “Can…can I have my wand back?” I asked timidly. 

“Put your cloak back on.”

I lowered my gaze to the floor to contain my glower at Pansy’s order. Slowly, I set down my bag and threaded my arms through the arms of my cloak. Looks like the house elves would be cleaning my cardigan and skirt as well. I looked up at Warrington again with as pitiful an expression as I could muster. 

Warrington’s black dress shoe slid forward. “Kiss it.”

He wanted me to kiss his shoe? I looked down at the article in question. The dress shoes were fairly clean, even if they were clearly polished. The momentary discomfort of the taste of shoe polish in my mouth was tame compared to what I expected them to do, so I knew that wasn’t all he was planning. 

If anything, it was highly likely that when I got my face close enough to Warrington’s foot, he’d kick in my nose. 

Grimacing, I leaned forward, already brainstorming which spell would be best to set a broken nose. 

“What’s going on?” 

The familiar voice from behind me made my spine straighten, and for the first time, I felt the shame that Warrington so desperately wanted me to. 

“Nothing, Malfoy,” I spat before any of the others could speak. “Go away.”

“Malfoy,” Warrington said with a calculating smile, “come join us, won’t you?”

The inconsiderate blond climbed the steps to join the other three, and I glared up at him. “This doesn’t concern you.” Malfoy hadn’t talked to me since he reported me, though not for lack of trying. I didn’t want to allow a conversation until I’d formed some sort of response to his actions. 

Kneeling before Malfoy as he stood beside Warrington, I certainly had things to say, but nothing that would make the current situation any better. 

“Y/L/N just took a tumble on the stairs,” Warrington said, looking at Malfoy. “She was about to thank me for keeping her wand safe.” The four Slytherins all looked down at me, Warrington expectantly, Pansy nastily, Goyle bawdily, and Malfoy confusedly. 

I tried to remind myself that I was trying to keep my head down and of the merits of complying. But it was one thing to comply with mistreatment when it came from notorious tormentors; it was quite another to comply with mistreatment from a friend. And with Malfoy standing above me, all I wanted to do was curse the lot of them. 

“Kiss it,” Warrington hissed, “or I’ll go find that brother of yours and make him do it.”

I forced myself to hesitate instead of immediately throwing myself down onto the stone steps and obeying. While Warrington laid down the winning hand, I couldn’t let him know that particular hand could win all future games. 

I inched myself closer to his shoes.

“Is there a problem here?”

I closed my eyes, denying the possibility that the owner of that voice was interrupting this stand-off between myself and the Inquisitor Squad. But no, when I opened my eyes once more, the Slytherins had parted to reveal the boy at the top of the stairs.

George Weasley. 

“None of your concern, Weasel-bee,” Malfoy snarled. 

George looked down at me, kneeling on stone steps in front of four members of the Inquisitor Squad, and I knew he was planning something dumb. Go away, I ordered him with a stern look. Let me handle this.

George casually stepped down two steps, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall. “Y/N, I thought you were going to meet me in the Transfiguration classroom so McGonagall can help us with our project.”

Clever to mention a seventh-year class that George and I were in but Warrington wasn’t. Foolish to think that mentioning McGonagall would have any sway with this crowd. 

“I’ll be right there,” I said through gritted teeth, once again shooting him a look to tell him to get lost. 

Once again proving his inability to listen to basic directions, George walked down another step. “I think Y/L/N needs her wand for Transfiguration.”

Did he recognize my wand in Warrington’s hand? Or did he listen before he revealed himself? How long had he been listening? I wrapped my arms around my middle, feeling more vulnerable than I had before.

Warrington let out a short laugh. “It’s four against one, Weasley. Don’t think you’ll win.”

“Maybe I won’t win,” George replied, a cocky grin on his face, “but I can make your winning hurt.” George pulled his wand out. “And it’s four against two actually.”

I shut my eyes, ready to curse every Weasley ancestor for their descendant’s actions. George had clearly allied himself with me. It didn’t matter if I accepted the alliance because the damage was already done. When I opened my eyes again, Warrington, Pansy, and Goyle were still staring George down, but Malfoy was looking at me with a look of betrayal.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Warrington drawled. “And unless you want to make it another ten–”

George slipped his hand into his pocket and then raised his hand high. 

BOOM!

The area filled with green smoke and an odor so putrid, I had to cover my nose. A hand seized my forearm, and if it hadn’t had freckles on it, I would’ve clawed at it with my nails. The hand dragged me up the stairs so quickly, I nearly tripped.

Then, once I’d finally gotten my feet under me, the hand dragged me sharply to the right and into a cramped room I’d never seen before.

George slid whatever trap door it was shut, throwing us into darkness.

“Lumos,” George muttered, and a small light threw his face into view. 

“I cannot believe you–”

“Shush!” George leaned his ear against the door he’d just shut. 

“Warrington still has my–”

Without budging from his spot, George held up his hand, showing me my wand. “Now will you be quiet?” he hissed. 

I was getting real tired of getting shushed by George Weasley, but unfortunately, he was always in the middle of misguided heroics when he was doing so. And he was right, now that we were silent, I could hear the shouts outside the door.

I took the opportunity to look around the tiny space. It was about the size of a normal Hogwarts broom cupboard, but there were no cleaning supplies in sight. Despite the lack of contents, the stone interior sported no cobwebs or dust that I could see from the minimal light emanating from George’s wand. 

The voices, still audible, grew farther away, and I saw George relax a bit. 

“I didn’t need saving,” I whispered, grabbing my wand from George’s grip. “I had it all under control.”

George rounded on me. “Were you actually going to kiss his shoe?” 

So George did overhear the conversation before he disrupted it. Suddenly looking in his eyes was much more difficult than a moment before, but I didn’t look away, even as my face flamed. “It’s none of your business.”

His head recoiled, as if physically pushed by my words. “You were.” Anger transformed his face, which I didn't like half as well as the normal easygoing smile. “I can’t believe you’d just lie down and do whatever they say!” His words might not have accused me of cowardice, but his eyes did. 

I folded my arms, exasperated. “I weighed the possibilities and made an informed decision.”

“And so you allowed them to bully you?” George asked. 

“Just because I didn’t do what you would do doesn’t make my actions wrong!” I snapped. 

“Just because you thought about it first doesn’t mean it was the right decision.”

I scowled. “Just because you got to be a hero doesn’t mean that your decision was the right decision either!”

“You’re lucky I showed up when I did!” 

“Oh, of course I couldn’t have handled it myself, could I? Guess what, Weasley,” I stabbed a finger into his chest, “I’ve survived over six years at Hogwarts without you, and I will continue to do so without interference.”

“But now you’re not just trying to survive,” George argued, grabbing my hand and holding it away from his chest. “You’re trying to keep your brother safe at your own expense.”

“And there’s nothing you can do about that,” I fumed. “If I decide that submitting is the best way to keep Clem safe, I will let the every single student in this school walk over me and thank them afterwards for good measure!”

George let out a huff, but the longer we frowned at each other with blazing eyes, the more his mouth curled into a wry grin. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to restock on dungbombs and follow you around for the rest of the year.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress,” I replied acerbically, reaching out to push the door open. 

George grabbed my hand. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving.”

“Not yet.”

I fixed him with a look. “We shouldn’t linger for them to find us. We should go find a better hiding spot, a more secure one that isn’t so close.”

George’s surprise quickly morphed into amusement. “You’ve never been in here before, have you?”

I didn’t like that he clearly knew something I didn’t. “No, why?”

“This door’s enchanted,” George replied. “If the room’s occupied, the door’s charmed not to open from the outside.” George’s words seemed dependable enough, but I didn’t trust the smirk on his face. It was obvious he found something amusing, but the source was not obvious. Unless he was laughing at me. 

“What is this place?” I asked warily.

George grinned, but it wasn’t his regular goofy smile where his whole face lit up with enjoyment. His lips stayed closed, and his chin dipped down slightly as he waggled his eyebrows. 

There’s only one thing that could mean. 

“You dragged me to a make-out spot?!” I shrieked.

The only answer was George’s shoulders shaking with barely repressed laughter. 

Ignoring the butterflies that spontaneously erupted in my stomach, I shoved the door open. “I’m getting out of here.” I stepped outside, eyes darting every which way to spy any enemies. 

“What, is snogging Warrington’s boot preferable to snogging a friend?” George called from behind me as I stormed towards the Great Hall.

“I don’t snog my friends!” I yelled over my shoulder at him, not bothering to turn around fully. 

Maybe I was imagining it, but as I climbed the steps to the Great Hall, I could’ve sworn I heard George say: “Well, that’s a bloody shame.”

-

Read the next part here!

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

#harry potter #hp #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #george #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george wealsey x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #hogwarts #slytherin!reader

[steveshairychest]

Eddie would do something outrageous like propose to Steve during the middle of a Corroded Coffin concert.

He can see Steve right at the front of the barricade because for some reason he insists on being in the crowd, 'It's for the experience.' Steve tells him everytime they get to the venue and Steve joins the line to get in. Eddie can see that Steve has a blood nose from where he's been elbowed during one of their heavier songs but Steve is still grinning up at him, he's got on one of their first tour shirts and his glasses because his eyes have gotten worse with age. And fuck, Eddie misses a note because he's completely awestruck by his boyfriend and overwhelmed with the amount of love Steve has in his eyes as he sings along.

When the song finishes, Eddie runs off stage, which causes an uproar, but then he's running back out, panting heavily and eyes blown wide as he stares down at Steve and just drops to one knee, the ring he's had for years sparkling in the stage lights. "I can't wait any longer, Harrington." His voice cracks through the microphone and his hands are shaking but he needed to do this right now, he's been chickening out for months and seeing Steve so happy in the front row was his last straw. He needs Steve to be his forever.

Steve jumps the barricade and nearly trips up the steps to the stage, he's crying and he's got blood in his teeth from his nose bleed but Eddie thinks he's never looked more beautiful. "Marry me?" Eddie says softly, the microphone discarded next to him. He knows he probably looks like a mess, he can feel his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead and his eye-liner is probably running down his face, but Steve steps closer and pulls him up to his feet.

"Yes, you idiot." He says before dragging him into a kiss. The crowd goes absolutely insane, there's screams and wolf whistles but they are drowned out by the blinding smile Steve gives him as Eddie slips the ring onto his finger. They kiss again, sweeter and full of smiles and giggles. "I love you but you still have a crowd to entertain."

Eddie performs the rest of the show with the biggest smile ever, he's whooping and jumping around the stage and there's an energy in the crowd that feels almost electric. Eddie drags Steve out onto the stage during the encore and they sing the first song Eddie wrote for Steve together.

#good morninggggg #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things

[gegewrites]

Dr.house- Encore(smut)

Pre leg, no Stacy.

Again not edited.

2/24/23

Houses pov-

I lightly bit down of the inside corner of lip, my fingers dancing over the keys of the piano. i don’t like Mondays, by the Boomtown Rats filled the apartment. (Y/n) was coming home late, she was teaching a night class at the hospital. Transplant lecture, sounds boring. Since the clock on wall said it was 10:05 she should be back any minute.

My fingers trailed off from the original tune to just playing the keys in random Rhythms. I started to loose track the time, falling into the music.

The moment of peace was cut off by the sound of the door opening and closing.

“How was it?” I asked as the lock latched and I heard her shoes getting kicked off.

“Only four of the kids are going places.” Her arms slid over my shoulders to sit on my chest , as her chin sat on my right shoulder. I felt her weight relax onto me.

“Seems like the right statistic.” I remarked, leaning my head onto hers. I let my fingers trail to a stop, my right hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. She let out a hum, starting to stand she kissed my temple. Her fingers trialing up my shirt and sat on my shoulders for a second.

“I’m getting out of these clothes.” I watched her as she started walking away.

“Need some help?” I offered and she shook her head with a light chuckle as she turned the corner to the hallway.

Your pov-

I walked out of the bedroom, and padded down the hall. in his Death Valley shirt and a pair of panties. I was gonna go to sleep In a bit, but I wanted to talk to him first.

He was still playing the piano, that’s the one thing I’d never argue about.

“What’d you leave off with?” I asked as I turned into the living room, walking behind the couch.

“Should be discharged in the morning, he’s on observation for the night.” He took his hands away from the piano and straddled the bench as I came closer. His hands sat on my hips and slid to my ass as I sat down on his lap.

“Good.” I placed a small kiss to his lips which he leaned onto, holding me tightly against him. As arms draped over his shoulders. I pulled my face away from him,”I have another class Saturday.”

“Late?”

“Ends at ten.” I pecked his lips . His hands slid further down my ass, holding the bottom of it in his palms. I could feel his fingertips against my skin, his thumbs rubbed soft and tight circles on the fabric of my panties, simultaneously squeezing it.

“Do you really prefer lecture to clinic duty?” He leaned forward snd I tilted my head. He pressed his lips against my skin, the slight stubble he had on his upper lip and chin tickling it.

“Hell no.” I giggled, feeling his teeth start nipping at my neck,”but it gets me a bonus when I get paid.”

“Didn’t know about that.” He pulled away from me. his brows furrowed, his right brow cocked slightly.

“I just found out.” My hands slid to the back of his head and moved his head back to my neck,”makes it worth it.”

I pushed my body into him a little bit more, his hand left me, taking hold of the Fall and shut it over the pianos Keys. His tongue swiped over my pulse point, I tugged at his hair trying to get him to divert from the area. Not a very professional thing, and I happen to like my reputation at the hospital. He didn’t move away, his teeth made contact with my skin as his lips sucked on it. His pressure getting harder, wanting a dark colored mark.

“Are you being serious right now?” He popped off my neck and placed a kiss to the area and leaned back a bit to look at me.

“So a hickey is considered unprofessional in your book, yet being on your knees under my not private desk…isn’t?” He raised his brow, his hands trailing up from my ass and under my shirt, his index and middle fingers hooking into the band that sat along my hips.

“Yes, the hickey lasts for a good week, you can see it. Blowing you only lasts 7 minutes and you have blinds in your office.” I informed him and he nodded slowly. His blue eyes drifted from mine to my neck.

“Might wanna wear a turtle neck to work.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance as his hands started slowly pulling my panties down. Because I was straddling him he wouldn’t be able to get them off, so I moved off of him.

When I stood, he moved closer to me, still on the bench. I slowly slid my panties down my legs and kicked them away. His hands reached to my thighs, pulling me closer to him, still standing. He looked up at me for a few seconds, his finger tips brushing over the front of my thigh before cupping my pussy.

“You get wet very easily. You must really like me.” He commented, his middle finger running through my slit, pressing in deeper till he was rubbing from my clit to my core.

“Mmhm.” I hummed, placing my hand over the one holding my hip under my shirt, the other holding his shoulder.

He stood up, letting his finger drag over my clit, his hand grazing over my side as he became taller. Quickly his hands moved to my ass as he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine and I responded quickly to him. Moving my lips in sync with his as he grabbed my ass harder, kind of pulling me up to my toes. Suddenly I heard the bench get pushed back and his weight shifted as his lips left mine.

“Jump.” He said against my lips so I did. He held me against him, one arm holding under my ass the other around my waist. My legs were wrapped around him, and I leaned down to catch his lips again.

He held me there for a minute, heatedly kissing me before turning, bouncing me up to grab under my thighs.

I felt the cold wood of the pianos lid on my ass and I gasped into the kiss and he stood between my legs, holding the back of my knees and pulled away. I leaned on my arms which were propped behind me.

“What are-“ I was cut off my him promptly.

“Please let me do this.” He pleaded, his tone wasn’t Whiny, still had his serious tinge to it. It sounded almost like he was about to preform a risky procedure that would save my life. It probably will.

“I’m not cumming on a ten thousand dollar piano Greg.” My eyes widened at him and he stared at me blankly.

“Why not cum on a ten thousand dollar piano?”he asked me as if he denying it was insane.”you have not once fantasized about this?”

“A couple times yeah, but I’m not ruining it.”

“You’re not gonna ruin it. The keys are covered and the lids shut. Nothings gonna get into it and you’re definitely not gonna break it.” He leaned closer to my face,”so lay back cause I’m doing it anyways.”

He pulled my knees up and placed them over his shoulders. He looked at me with a face of impatience, and I sighed as I laid back on my forearms. His hand left my leg and pushed me down by my chest so i was flat on the lid.

His stubbled tickled the inside of my thigh as his hands held into the top of my thighs, keeping the held open as he kissed his way to my wet slit.

He placed a kiss above my clit before licking a broad strip over my lips. His tongue coming back down to slide back up, spreading my lips apart. I let a breathy moan when his tongue started to swirl around my clit. My body fully relaxed onto the piano, my fingers curled over the end of the piano, holding onto it. His tongue started flicking at my clit, slowly become more languid. Reaching my slick dripped core. the tip of his tongue dipped in before coming back up to my clit. his lips tightened around it, giving it a harsh suck, ripping a moan from my throat as my thighs flexed, my knees trying to press his head in between them. But, his bruising grip on my thighs kept them open.

He kept his pattern going; his tongue dipping into my core, licking back to my clit and giving it a few harsh sucks, and repeating.

“Oh god ,Greg.” I moaned out, my shoulder blades pushing down onto the piano, my back arched and a hand went into his hair. My chest started rising more visibly, deep fast breaths. I felt my spine tingle every few seconds, the feeling of my slick dropping down my skin, his stubble scratching against the inside of my thighs absorbed my brain.

Then two long fingers slid into my core, he wasted no time to start pumping them in and out. Moans escaped my lips, the sounds ringing through his ears causing him to groan around my clit.

“Oh my god.” My voice shook through the whole phrase, I felt a knot forming inside of me as his fingers worked faster. His tongue lapping at my clit.

I could feel how wet I was and I could hear it. I pushed my hips into his face, my grip on his hair tightened and he didn’t fight it, he kept his actions and speed, except for the deeper curl in his fingers, rubbing right against my gspot.

“Ye-yes!Goood, just like that!” My abdomen tightened, my eyes were shut even tighter, they haven’t been open since my body first relaxed. When I felt like I was gonna cum he slowed down, snd I let out pathetic whimper. Rocked my hips into his face again, try to get him back to his previous pace.

I stopped doing that when i hard a minor key on the piano play. He was still standing, his fingers still inside of me, my lips and tongue still working my clit. But now he was also starting to play the piano…with his face buried in between my legs. My moans grew louder, the louder I got the harder he pressed the keys, the more into it he got.

His fingers made their way back to the original pace, and Soon enough he had me cumming on his fingers and chin, my heels Dug into his back, my nails scratching at the back of his skull. A near scream of a moan left my throat my my hand flew over to cover my mouth before it could really rip out, muffling it into my palm. The music helped to silence it more, the neighbors would definitely rather hear the piano then me.

He slowly came to a stop, his tongue left my clit and his fingers slid out of me. The music stopped. My hand slipped off my face snd My back finally touched the lid of the piano again and I heard him Hum, i looked at him through half lidded eyes, licking my cum off his fingers, his chin and upper lip wet. I propped up on my forearms.

“Still regret saying no?” He bent down, moving the bench under him and sat down, I could still see his face. Something I like about Greg is his height. Six foot two. Hard to not see him.

My legs were still over his shoulders, his eyes focused on the keys he was playing. This was a new song, something random he started playing.

“Holy fuck.” I sighed, laying back down on the lid, my eye lids were heavy and I let them close. I could almost feel the vibrations of the piano in my pulse. I let myself fade into the music, listening and feeling it. It was perfect for coming down.

I noticed when the music started slowing down, my eyes opened after it stopped completely.

“Piano still works.” He noted, I heard the fall close and my legs rides as he stood up. He took hold of my knees and slid my legs off his shoulders,”come on, sit up.”

He grabbed my wrist and I turned it in his grasp to take hold or it from the underside. With his help I sat up, he grabbed my waist and lifted me off the piano.

My legs nearly gave out the minute my feet touched the floor.

“Oh shit!” I yelped, thinking I was gonna fall, I didn’t though, his grip slid to my ribs in the process and he pulled me onto him.

“Just cause you can’t walk already does not, in any way, mean we’re done.” His arm wrapped around my back, his other coming down to take hold behind my knees, picking me up bridal style,”seeing you limp around the hospital tomorrow is going to be very amusing.”

“The piano Greg.” I reminded him as he started walking away from it.

“Yeah yeah, it will get cleaned.” He rolled his eyes at me as he turned into the hallway, aimed towards the bedroom.

“Tonight.” I stressed.

“Tomorrow, I’ll even polish with my tongue, how about that?” He pushed open the door with his foot.

I let out a laugh and his lil curled with a grin before tossing me onto the bed without warning. My back contacting the blue sheeted mattress with a slight creak from the bed frame. He started undoing the buttons from his shirt, taking his time. His eyes slowly looking me up and down before looking around the room.

“What?” I asked furrowing my brows lightly.

“Where’s my harmonica? Time for an encore.”

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #dr house smut #greg house #greg house smut #greg house x reader #dr. house #house md smut #house md #house md fanfiction

[howlyourmelancholy]

L'amour Existe Encore

summary: in which he speaks french.

warnings: sirius speaking french is its own warning. being dommed in another language. hints of choking, spanking, spitting and dacryphilia. i don't know things happened i didn't expect.

words: 1k.

notes: sirius speaks fench. that's a fact and no one can change my mind. i've neglected to add the translations into this to keep an air of mystery; in my canon the reader doesn't understand him. if you look up the translations and they're not 100% just ignore it, that's google for you.

"C'est ça, bébé."

Sirius' voice dripped over you like a fine wine, delicate and airy in a way that contrasted with the harsh snap of his hips and the way his cock split you open. His large hands kneaded the flesh of your hips as he dragged you back against his pelvis again, the sound of skin hitting skin now sinfully loud, your arse stinging with the imprint of his palms.

He loved you in this state—whiny and cock-drunk, the perfect toy for him to use. Your voice was muffled from how you were pressing your face into the mattress, your arse in the air, and your fingers curled so tightly around the sheets that they hurt. Sirius was holding you beautifully on the edge of Nirvana. Your thighs, no, your entire body, trembled when he ran a hand up your sweaty back, following the divet of your spine until he curled his fingers around your throat, chunky rings biting into your skin as he pulled you up to your knees.

"Arrête de te cacher. Je veux entendre ces jolis sons."

Somehow you managed to suck in enough air to whine when he turned your face to his. His lips smashed against yours in a kiss made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. It was messy, sloppy, and desperate, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when you finally parted. You stared at him with glassy eyes, your vision blurred with the beginning of tears. Even if your head hadn't been filled with the sound of static noise and crackling flames, you wouldn't have understood what he said.

He was speaking French; that much you knew. Sirius spoke with such tenderness and absolute authority that he was giving you emotional whiplash. It was a sick attraction, him speaking a language you didn't understand—controlling your body, your pleasure, using you in the ways he knew you craved. When he slowed the piston of his hips, switching to a slow, deep grind that had the mushroom head of his cock abusing that sweet spot inside your pussy, your eyes rolled back into your skull and the air was punched from your lungs.

He was carving his way into your guts, hitting the back of your throat. You clawed at his wrist, where he still held your throat.

"Sirius!" You gasped, a sob welling in your chest, as the tears finally fell, leaving streaks of mascara and eye-liner down your cheeks. You could feel your orgasm slipping away. He wasn't fucking you the way you need to be fucked, and he knew it. You felt his smug smirk as he kissed your temple, then your cheek, tasting the salt water of your tears. "M-more, faster, please."

He tutted mockingly behind you, an open palm coming down on your arse, tearing a surprised shriek from you. The sharp zing of pain through your already-burning skin had fresh moisture splashing through your core, cocking the length of his shaft as he bottomed out inside you and stilled. He spanked you again and hissed when your pussy clenched around him, only to release and clench again. "En français."

"S'il te plaît!"

You're sure your pronunciation was wrong because the vowels felt heavy and harsh on your tongue, but he understood. Sirius shoved you onto the mattress and grabbed both your hips in his large hands, his fingertips bruising into your skin in that sick way you loved as he pinned you prone. The drag of his cock through your slick walls was agonisingly beautiful, leaving you desperately trying to push yourself onto his cock when he pulled all the way out, so that only the tip teased your twitching hole.

Sirius was addicted to the sight of your sweet cunt clinging to him and the way your puffy lips stretched and parted to accommodate his girth. He grabbed your arse, filled his palms, and spread you open just so he could watch each inch he had to offer disappear inside you.

"Une si jolie petite pute tu es pour ma bite." His voice was strained, and the words growled through his teeth, but it was the feeling of a fat globe of his spit hitting your puckered hole that made your mind go blank. And then, a second later, he turned ferocious, ruthlessly ramming into you with renewed vigour. You clawed at the sheets as he drove you to the brink of orgasm, your walls clamped so tightly around him.

"Si—fuck—si serré."

It felt like a thunderstorm was roaring in your head. You heard him, felt the droplets of sweat drip from his hair and land on your back, and felt his fingers bruising your hips, but none of it registered in your brain the way it should have. There was only building, mounting, and ruining pleasure that was spreading through your organs and seizing your limbs.

Drool dripped from your chin as you struggled to form a coherent train of thought. "Gonna cum—right there, right there—please, please, Sirius. I need to cum. Fuck me—ah, harder, fuck, fuck—Sirius!" You babbled mindlessly. You were lost, drunk on his cock, and the fire sparking to life inside you. The air was punched out of your lungs without warning. Lightening hit you hard in the chest, turning your blood into electricity and your limbs into life wires.

You come hard and long, crying a pretty symphony made up entirely of his name while he grinds into you, shooting thick, ivory ropes of cum as deep as possible and coating your walls. The chains around his neck tickled your shoulder blades as he rocked into you slowly and lazily, riding the coattails of his own tumultuous orgasm. You're pretty sure you blacked out for a second because, when you finally came down from the thermosphere, Sirius had you curled into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around your still-trembling body.

You could feel the sticky-sweet trail of your combined cum where it dripped down your thighs and could only sigh, the sound light and blissful as you snuggled closer to him. "Ma belle, belle fille." His voice was soft now, filled with adoration and exhaustion as he kissed along the path of your tears before finding your lips.

#sirius black #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurb #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you

[thefallennightmare]

HC for your Monday:

You have been in a relationship with Noah for a while, and you went on the tour with the band. A prank war starts and lasts for almost a week. You are pulled up onto the stage, and Noah proposes to you while the crowd sings the chorus from Just Pretend. You get a little upset thinking it's a prank till you see how serious Noah is.

Much love miss Tina, thank you 🩵💜

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera

The prank war within Bad Omens this tour cycle has been one for the books.

Between you sneaking up behind every single member of the band and crew to scare them and switching out one of Matt's mixes of Just Pretend with the sound of a bunch of raccoons screaming, during the sound check of course, you were glad that it was the last day and everything was finished.

Or so you thought.

Everyone knew about your and Noah's relationship even though the first couple of years you did your best to keep it private. While some fans weren't too thrilled, a lot of the fanbase was happy that Noah finally found someone that made him happy.

But even though everyone knew about your relationship, you and Noah still kept everything private.

So tonight, during their show, you were confused when Noah called you out on stage.

Your senses were on high alert because not only were hundreds of phones on you, but the prank war was still on so you couldn't take anything seriously.

"What are you doing?" You asked under your breath as he made you sit on a stool next to his mic stand.

"This song at first didn't really have much meaning," Noah spoke into the mic towards the crowd. "But now, in the last couple of years, I realized that it means a lot to everyone; especially us."

Bad Omens started playing Just Pretend and you watched with your heart in your throat as Noah sang his heart out tonight, more than he ever had before.

Then when the crowd began to sing the chorus, Noah got on the riser in front of you, bending on one knee while looking directly at you.

"Marry me?" He mouthed, so discreetly that only you could see.

You blinked, ready to lose it on him because you for sure thought it was a prank.

Especially since Bryan was right next to you, recording with his camera.

But when you saw the sincerity and love radiating off of Noah, your anger subsided because you could tell he meant those two words.

"Would you say I'm worthy?" He sang into the mic while standing up on his two feet.

"Yes!" You breathed while kissing his lips.

Noah smiled into the kiss and since it was the last song before the encore, he whisked you off the stage to where everyone was patiently waiting.

"So?!" Folio asked while bouncing on his feet.

Noah pulled out a ring from his pocket and you gasped at the diamond while he slipped it on your finger.

Cheers from the crowd mixed with cheers from your friends and family as you and Noah kissed again.

"I thought it was a prank at first," you admitted while resting your forehead against his.

"I'd never joke about my love for you, angel."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fics #noah sebastian headcannons #bad omens headcannons #noah sebastian x reader