#these were just meant to be little practice doodles

[king-drawsstuff]

morning lobby faves:)) hello to the other like two morning lobby enjoyers on tumblr

#these were just meant to be little practice doodles #but then i turned them into this #yes apollos suit ID says dumb #they r so fun to draw #the suits were a pain to come up with though #5up #5up fanart #dumbdog #crewfu #morning lobby #sketches #character art #artists on tumblr

[rootbeerworshiper]

means something

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure

warnings: angst lol

a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different

love, sienna <3

you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.

but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.

‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.

it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.

but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.

he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.

that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.

April 17th, 2022

dear Matt,

i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.

it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.

i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.

how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.

“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.

“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.

it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.

“wait someone sent the letters?”

“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”

“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”

the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”

“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.

“i thought you’d come around Matt”

now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.

along with this, i know everything about you.

i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.

i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.

i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.

i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.

whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.

“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.

he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”

i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”

“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”

i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.

you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.

how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?

i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.

we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.

“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.

“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.

“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”

“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”

“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.

but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.

it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”

it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.

i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.

you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?

i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.

that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.

i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.

this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.

i just have one question for you.

did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.

i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.

but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.

anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.

i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.

thanks for listening, y/n.

you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.

it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.

regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.

a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #Spotify

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

taedros tresdros

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

part one: taedros taedros ☆ part two: taedros twodros wc: 2.2k reader: afab reader (pretty sure no specific gender mentioned but putting this disclaimer just in case!) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some fluff :) summary: uh-oh... you fell for your best friend taerae. but was it all in vain after he's ghosted you the past two weeks? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ITS DONEEE! you will notice i've went with "taedros tresdros" for the title. decided to keep all three parts with taedros as the first word lol. this is the finale for this little series and i really hope you like this ending i've made lol. i am so happy you've all enjoyed taedros taedros -- stay tuned for more works soon (hopefully) xx

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, fingering and oral (reader receiving), cumming in pants, eavesdropping/voyeurism by reader but it's only out of shock/anger, swearing, lots of innuendo in this one lmao... i think that's it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“so, the ring finger goes here?” you hear a feminine voice ask; ear pressed gently to taerae’s door to hear better. just a few moments ago, you’d been taking deep, steadying breaths as you walked through the entrance to your best friend’s dorm building on your way to finally confront him.

something that was so familiar now made your heart race with anxiety. 

but when you’d rounded the corner to taerae’s room, you were surprised to find the door shut almost all the way. usually taerae left his door wide open, even when he was playing the guitar or getting changed or sleeping. in fact, his dorm-mates told you one night when you were leaving that the only time taerae made an effort to close it was when you were over... you couldn’t hear any noise coming from his room, which made you all the more curious as to what was going on in there. 

walking up to his door, you’d seen it was propped open just a bit by one of taerae’s shoes. you couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but you’d heard quiet murmurings from inside and gently placed your ear to the door to listen closer. the sound of a girl’s voice had completely shocked you. especially considering what you’d come here to talk about with taerae.

“yeah, it might take a bit to find the sweet spot,” taerae answers with a chuckle; his answer causing your jaw to drop. fingers? sweet spots? what the fuck is going on in there!?

“mmm, thank you again for teaching me, taerae,” the voice responds. upon closer listening, you realize you know this voice. it belongs to your world history classmate, jinah-- the girl who sits behind you and doodles the entire period. she’s very nice-- pretty and athletic, too, but...

you didn’t really think taerae was her type.

you hadn’t spoken to taerae much in the last couple weeks. ever since you’d actually slept together... things had changed. it felt like your best friend was avoiding you. when you’d texted to ask about movie night the past two fridays, taerae had said he was busy with homework both times. normally taerae would meet you for lunch in the student union every other day in between his music theory class, but he hadn’t come by since then. he’d barely said two words to you at choir practice last night.

was this why? he’d decided he liked jinah instead? he couldn’t face you after... using you? 

taerae would never do that. not to you. probably not to anyone.

then again, you’d never talked about whether what was going on between you was exclusive or not. and what it meant to you; what he meant to you. had you completely misinterpreted this whole situation?

“and the middle finger...” jinah trails off and the mental picture you have unfortunately painted in your head of the scene taking place is enough to make you gag.

“that one’s gonna reach as far up as possible,” taerae explains. if you had known your best friend was offering masturbation classes out of his dorm room, you probably would’ve been more careful about where you were sitting on his bed.

“i don’t think i can reach that far,” jinah huffs with a frustrated sigh. “it kind of hurts.”

“relax,” taerae soothes. “it’ll feel better if you relax.”

your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound of the audible gasp that escapes you, but your elbow hitting the door blows your cover. you stand up quickly as taerae’s door swings open-- revealing you in the doorway to taerae and jinah.

... and revealing jinah sitting on taerae’s bed and holding a guitar (quite clumsily, if you may be so brazen) in her hands; taerae sitting next to her and seemingly offering some sort of instruction.

“you--...” you stutter, surprised and also incredibly relieved to find that the lessons taerae was giving were much more wholesome than you’d been forced to imagine for the past few minutes. “oh thank fuck holy shit.”

as the uncontrollable string of grateful curse words leaves your mouth, jinah clears her throat awkwardly and stands up; removing the guitar strap from around her neck and handing the instrument to its owner.

“sorry for interrupting,” you mumble, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as taerae glares at you. 

“no, it’s okay! i have to finish an essay for tomorrow anyway,” jinah replies, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. you step to the side for her to get by, awkwardly smiling as she calls behind her, “thank you, taerae! see you next week!”

jinah retreats down the hallway, leaving just you and taerae alone in a tense silence.

“what are you doing here?” taerae asks, rather unceremoniously. “it’s a thursday night. you have tutoring on thursday nights. that's why we have movie night on fridays.”

you nod, still leaning against the doorframe. “my last appointment cancelled so i--... i wanted to come talk to you.”

“oh,” taerae replies with a nod. “okay.”

you frown. “okay?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down at his guitar in his hands; starting to strum it lightly. “okay.”

your eyebrows raise in shock as your best friend seemingly shrugs you off. you walk over to him and snatch the guitar from his hands by its neck.

“HEY!” he protests as you bring the instrument over to its stand and place it there annoyedly (but carefully; you’re not an asshole). “i was playing that.”

“what the fuck is the matter with you!?” you snap, turning back around to face him. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks!”

taerae visibly gulps; eyes falling to the floor. 

“and this is how you’re gonna act?” you scold, folding your arms across your chest. “after we...”

for some reason you’re unable to say it. taerae is silent-- seemingly holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. coward.

“i came here to talk to you about everything and--... and then i heard you through the door giving jinah a fucking guitar lesson,” you explain while rolling your eyes. “better than the lesson i thought you were giving her, but...”

taerae looks up at you now; brow furrowed as his head tilts to the side confusedly. “w--... what kind of a lesson did you think i was giving her?”

you blink back at him; unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. but taerae catches on before you can commit to a lie.

his jaw drops in shock. “you thought--... did you think--”

you look down at your feet: embarrassed, anxious, and just plain sad after the events of the last couple weeks. this mixture of emotions forms a lump in your throat that you are now hopelessly trying to suppress. “i’m really sorry for interrupting. and for listening a bit. i just don't know what happened. i thought we were--... i thought you felt the same way that i did, but... you just must be really upset with me and i don’t know what i did but i’m so sorry and i really miss you so i wanted to talk to you and i just was... i dunno, i thought--”

taerae cuts off your rambling by standing up and wrapping his arms around you tightly. against your neck, he soothes, “ssh, baby. it’s okay-- it’s all okay. i promise.”

“i like you,” you confess into taerae’s sweatshirt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. but i really like you, tae.”

"fuck-- i like you, too. of course i like you, too,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “and this is all my fault.”

you sniffle as you ask, “what did you do this time?”

“something really, really stupid,” he replies with a sad smile.

mirroring his expression, you quip, “what else is new?” 

“yeah, yeah,” he accepts with a laugh. cupping your cheek in his hand, he runs his thumb across the skin sweetly. “i thought i was the one who fucked up... by falling for you.”

“... oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“oh is right,” he says, leaning in and kissing your lips gently. “i honestly wasn’t sure what to do about it. i didn’t want to hurt you and i thought maybe just... avoiding you for a bit would make it easier for me to stop having feelings for you. but it didn’t. it just hurt you and me more-- and it was really immature. i’m so sorry.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, having forgiven your idiot of a best friend before he even apologized. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more,” taerae says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. you giggle; taerae grinning before attaching his lips to yours again.

“but, um,” you say quickly, pulling back to meet his gaze. “i’d love to put in a request for no more guitar lessons with the door closed, if the suggestion box is still open.”

“it is,” taerae says with a laugh. “suggestion accepted, approved and implemented.”

“and, uh, maybe they don’t have to take place on your bed,” you say, biting your bottom lip and hiding your face in his chest.

“i will have you know my conduct is strictly professional at all times,” taerae replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but you’re completely right. not to mention, it was probably rude of me to let her sit on my bed... without telling her what it’s covered in.”

“TAERAE-YA!” you shout, hitting his chest as he pulls you toward his bed-- pushing you down gently onto the mattress and climbing between your legs with ease. “you do wash your sheets, don’t you?”

he just laughs.

“tae, that’s gross,” you reply, shaking your head as he cups your center over your jeans. your protesting starts to waiver as he applies more pressure to where you need him most. “you--... you really should--”

“enough, enough, baby-- of course i wash them,” he replies, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of your jeans and shimmying them along with your underwear down your legs before discarding them on the floor. then he smirks at you, adding, “but sometimes i do wonder what the point is when you’re just gonna get them dirty again.”

“fuck,” you whine as taerae admires you. he’s licking his lips like he hasn’t eaten in days-- and he hasn’t. you wonder how he’s survived this long without you.

“so,” he says, starting to circle your clit with two fingers. his rhythm isn’t steady though; it’s intoxicatingly teasing. “what did you think i was teaching in these ‘lessons’?”

you feel your face heat up again at the mention of your faux pas. “don’t make fun of me.”

“never, baby,” he says; a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “i’m just curious what you think i’m enough of an expert in to be qualified to teach.”

“i--... oh my god,” you say, shaking your head with embarrassment. “i thought you were teaching her how to finger herself!"

“hmm, i guess i can understand the confusion,” taerae runs his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and painting it across your stomach. “since playing guitar requires so much skill with your fingers.”

“shut up,” you reply, pouting at him.

“no, really,” he insists with a nod. as he pushes his middle finger into you gently, you gasp at the sensation. “like, to play a chord; each of your fingers needs to hold down the correct string and in the correct spot. like, to play a d chord for example.”

taerae strokes up into your walls with his middle finger, causing you to whimper. “see this middle finger needs to be on that ‘high e’ string. and then the ring finger...”

plunging another finger into you, your hand reaches to grab onto taerae to steady yourself. he smiles at you, pressing both fingers firmly against your walls now. “will sit nicely on that ‘b’ string right here.”

as he works his fingers against your walls lazily, you whine-- desperate for more friction and soon. your prayers are answered when taerae inserts a third finger, stretching you carefully until he’s able to push it all the way in.

“and finally, the index finger is going to go...” he laughs lightly before pushing his index finger into the spongy, firm spot in your walls that only he has ever been able to find. as you cry out in pleasure, taerae presses kisses to your thighs. “you might’ve guessed, but that one’s on the ‘g’ string. and listen to that beautiful sound it's making.”

“did you--... did you plan that g-spot joke?” you ask breathlessly in between pleading moans as taerae picks up the pace of his fingers. “you’re the--*hic!*... worst person i know.”

the little hiccup from pleasure that separates your insult sends taerae reeling. “fucking perfect, huh? every inch of you.”

“baby, please,” you beg, self-control low after two weeks without taerae. “wanna cum. please, wanna cum for you.”

taerae moans and, from the way he’s looking at you, you know he’s just as desperate as you are. he falls to his stomach now between your legs as he says, “was gonna try to... keep my mouth off of you. show you i really like you. you-- not just your pussy but...”

“fuck it,” you both say at the same time.

lips attaching to your clit, taerae wastes no time in pushing you closer to the edge as he laps, sucks, eats at you-- one leg of yours hooked over his back as he continues to work you with his left hand. 

“tae,” you whimper, hands in his hair as you grind your hips into his touch. “g’nna cum... please, gonna cum.”

taerae whines and, with the state you’re in, you don’t even notice how feverishly he’s grinding into the bed. he switches to sucking, lips tugging perfectly on your clit and it’s all over for you.

“fuck, i--... i--... m’cumming,” you moan, taerae’s name falling from your lips a few dozen times as you come down from your high. “oh my god.”

taerae is noticeably quiet; removing his fingers from inside of you, he laps at the juices that drip out of you with his eyes closed. you know he really likes you... but it’s very possible he likes your pussy just as much. you’re not complaining.

“tae,” you call sweetly, sitting up on your elbows. “baby? come here-- want you to fuck me.”

he opens his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up a bit. “um... so, about that.”

his gaze trails down to the crotch of his jeans and you follow it to find a nice, big wet spot soaking through the denim. 

“are you serious!?” you whine in frustration; sighing as taerae smiles at you sheepishly.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes with a cute little pout. “will you forgive me if i say it’s because you’re just too hot?”

you roll your eyes-- grinning at him. “i’ll consider it.”

“thank god, because i think i can probably make it up to you...” he says, sitting up and grabbing your jeans from the floor. “after some dinner.”

you laugh. “are you asking me out?”

“i totally am,” he answers with a smile.

“you’re sure you’re not too... full?” you joke, grabbing his hand in yours. “you did just eat.”

taerae shakes his head, smirking at you:

“trust me-- i’m never full when i’m with you.”

#zb1 #zb1 smut #zerobaseone #zerobaseone smut #zb1 fics #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 taerae #zb1 kim taerae #zerobaseone kim taerae #zerobaseone taerae #zerobaseone x reader #kim taerae imagines #kim taerae fics #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae smut #kim taerae #taerae smut #taerae #taerae x reader #taerae imagines #taerae fics #kim taerae angst #zb1 angst #zerobaseone angst #boys planet #boys planet smut

[iridescentprose]

Try again - Luca x reader insert [The Bear]

summary; in which you catch the chef smiling at you.

author's note; short but sweet fic about Luca. Just fluff. Please enjoy!

"Worse. Try again."

"Yes, chef."

It was 5:36am.

The numbers of the digital clock above you weren't moving any faster. You had been here for less than an hour and already you were being critiqued on how to properly layer strawberries on top of a crème brûlée custard.

Whatever plans you had of pleasing the chef next to you were slowly diminishing. Your hands shook with self doubt as you pricked at the red fruit, angling it so the mandala spirals could continue. You stepped back, overall pleased with what you had done.

"Better."

It was all you were going to get for now, you knew. But you took his response with pride. After all, you had made significant progress in the past week. Your shoulders relaxed, though your victory was short-lived.

"But."

You lifted a brow. "But?"

He shifted closer to you, his tattooed arm brushing up against yours, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. Your eyes remained downward, concentrated on the different doodles that littered his skin. You wondered what each stroke of ink meant and if they were drawn with intent or if they happened to be the result of a reckless decision.

Or decisions.

"You lack confidence," he said. Even though his eyes were focused on the custard, you could tell he was doing this on purpose—teasing you. The furrowed brow, the slightly scrunched up nose, and the craned neck. What gave away his concentrated act was the corner of his lips, tugged in a meaningful, if not, arrogant fashion.

Despite the heat spreading across your cheeks, you didn't take his criticism to heart. It was true. After all, Carmy set this all up for a reason. You needed the extra practice to hone in on your skill before the upcoming opening. But opening day was weeks away and you already felt too far behind to make a good impression.

"I'm exhausted," You said without thinking. It wasn't the best excuse for your lack of confidence or skill, but it was all you could muster in response. You dropped the miniature metal tongs and braced your hands on the edge of the silver cooking island.

You could hear him chuckle but you didn't bother lifting your gaze to defend yourself. A week of private training wasn't enough to increase your knowledge as quickly as you had hoped. You wanted to be good—better than good. You wanted to be the best version of yourself and you wanted others to experience that through your desserts.

"Good," he said, as you kept your gaze downwards, fixed on his shoes that were inching closer to yours. "For a second I was worried you weren't." He smirked. "Here, try again."

You lifted your head and straightened your posture as he reached across the table for the metal tongs. He handed them to you and you took them into your hand automatically, prying a strawberry that happened to be cut in half, from a small bowl.

Slowly you guided it towards the custard, though it didn't make it's final destination without a little help. In a ghostly fashion, Luca's hand loomed over yours. His rough palm settled over your knuckles — which happened to be stained with flour and vanilla extract.

He did most of the heavy lifting, using a method of confident concentration that you had been trying to master all week. Your hand shook as the strawberry reached its destination, overlaying the endless spiral masterfully.

"Slow and steady wins the race," he mumbled, his breath fanning your cheek. He gently squeezed your fingers prompting the metal tongs let go of the red fruit. "Consistency is key."

The pads of his fingertips brushed over your knuckles as he let go of your shaking hand. Smudges of strawberry paste lingered on your skin as he pulled away.

"Understand?"

You lifted your head, your eyes meeting his. He looked relaxed, if not intrigued by your bravery. A glimmer of a smile came to his lips, though it vanished before you could capture it in your mind. You shook your head free from whatever trance you were under.

"Yes, chef."

With a nod, he swiftly reached for the towel that hung off his shoulder and tossed it to you. You took it, swiping the remnants of sweet ingredients he left on your fingers from his demonstration.

You turned to look over your shoulder, finding him leaning against the metal cabinent, arms crossed and muscles tight.

He met your gaze quickly, almost as if he had been caught watching you. His slight smile diminished, and you couldn't help but shake your head in amusement.

"Again, chef?" You asked.

Testing his reflexes, you tossed the towel and he flinched, but caught it with ease as it hit his chest. A shade of red - the same pigment that stained the towel you had used to wipe your hands - was visible in his cheeks. His lips flickered upwards as he fought the playful smirk flirting with his mouth.

"Yes, chef," he mumbled, tossing the towel over his shoulder and taking his spot next to you. Naturally, his arm brushed up against yours again as he began cutting up more strawberries. "Again."

#luca x reader #luca x you #luca the bear #luca the bear x you #the bear x reader insert #the bear x reader #the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #will poulter #will poulter luca #luca x y/n #luca reader insert

[bunnylovesani]

The Bratty Belle

Chapter 1

Summary: You’ve just moved to the city and want to get to know your new neighbours. One very snarky and very handsome one in particular presents you with a challenge.

WC: 2k

After spending all day unpacking, you finally sat down to observe your new surroundings: you’d kept most of your old furniture, like the vanity table perched in the corner along with your beloved princess bed- complete with an intricately carved wooden headboard. The room was pleasantly familiar beside the new addition of white chiffon curtains that hung around your bed, shrouding you in a comforting cocoon. You let out a dreamy sigh, fiddling with the numerous pillows and plushies littered all over your plush bedding. You might be old enough to move to the big city and have your own condo, but you’ll still cuddle your tatty old teddy to sleep.

Peering out the window, you observe the neighbouring houses strewn along the street opposite, a green meadow separating the complexes. Most of them had a door and mailbox per floor, signifying that a different person resided on each of the levels. The same could not be said, however, for the last house at the very end of the street, which stood detached and boasted a single entryway. It was the only house you could see into being that it was directly opposite yours- unlike the other condos, which joined together in rows a little further up the road. You’d only moved in 2 days ago but noticed that the blinds were shut and the lights always remained off. Maybe no one lived there?

As a reward for your gruelling work unpacking, you took some candy along with your sketchpad and headed out to the field outside your new home. Deciding against another layer over your pink mini dress, you grabbed a picnic blanket and staked out the perfect spot - cosy and tucked away so that the neighbours down the road wouldn’t notice you. Your feet kicked the air playfully as you doodled the flowers in your line of sight, humming contentedly with a cherry-flavoured lollipop hanging from your lips. You were so engrossed in your sketch that you almost didn’t notice the shadow looming over you, blocking the warm sunlight.

“Who are you?” A tall man with dark features frowned at you and you looked up, mirroring his frown.

“I don’t talk to strangers.” You huffed, returning your attention to your notebook. That wasn’t strictly true- you were bubbly and befriended anyone who would have you but this man in particular intimidated you.

“What are you, ten?” He scoffed and raised his thick eyebrows, forehead wrinkles deepening.

Much to your annoyance, you could sense that he wasn’t leaving before he got a satisfactory response - so you put your pencil down and looked up at him again. His cerulean blue eyes shone so brightly they practically twinkled and a sharp spark flew through your heart at the sight. Rugged, almost-black hair choppily framed his chiselled face, which had smudges of dirt and sweat flecking his tanned skin. A manual labourer, perhaps?

“I’m Bunny. Jus’ moved in over there.” You turn around and point at the apartment behind you. “And you are?”

“Happy to see you.” His deep, raspy voice replied teasingly.

“I meant your name.” You corrected him snappily.

“My real one or a fake one like you just gave me?” You pout your lips; you didn’t like his sharp tongue.

“I’m James. James Kelly.” He said after a while of staring at your scrunched-up face. “I’ll call you by your stupid pet name if you crave affection that badly.”

Your mouth gaped open at his callous words and you felt as though you’d been unmasked. It was undoubtedly pathetic but the truth was you considered your first name to be too harsh, too cold. You much preferred being sensitively referred to by an affectionate pet name- one that people often didn’t realise they were being duped into using, assuming it was real. But not him.

“You won’t get the opportunity to use it, I’ll make sure of that.” You crossed your arms and furrowed your brows.

“Well you’re just a little ball of anger aren’t you?” He chuckled, finding your short temper adorable. “Very tense for one so young.”

“And you’re very nosy for one so old.” You gather your colouring pencils into your fluffy pencil case, your creative inspiration rattled by his presence. You surmised that he was at least 10 years your senior; his hands looked weathered but still supple, his crows feet visible but not yet entrenched.

“Hey, you don’t have to move, I’m leaving.” He protests but you’re already on your feet. “Alright moody, suit yourself.”

You shoot him a displeased look as you clutch your sketchpad tightly against your chest, turning your back to him and taking a step forward.

“By the way.” He adds and you halt tentatively. “You should really wear a longer dress if you’re gonna be laying down like that. I could see your panties.”

Your cheeks flush a burning red and you screw your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“They’re cute though. I like the strawberry print.” You can feel his grin beaming through his words and you want nothing more than to run away and never see his stupid handsome face again.

“Leave me alone.” You attempt to say confidently but it comes out as more of a squeak. You tried to walk off with as much dignity as you could manage under the pressure of his burning gaze but you ended up frantically skipping back, wanting to go home and bury your face in your pillows as soon as possible.

“What a rude man.” You thought. “Rude and irritatingly attractive.”

Later that evening, you took it upon yourself to bake several lots of chocolate chip cookies- eager to use them as a way of getting into your new neighbour’s good graces since you lived off a steady diet of praise and compliments. You separated the different batches and ordered them into various paper bags, each lovingly wrapped with a ribbon and placed delicately into a woven wicker basket. Glancing into the mirror before you set off, you manoeuvred your lace-trimmed tank top down a little to accentuate your cleavage- you loved to watch men struggle to maintain eye contact with you.

After determining your chest looked too bare, you bounded over to the bedroom to retrieve your favourite necklace- a dainty silver rabbit pendant. As you fiddled with the clasp, something out of the window caught your eye- you noticed that the house usually shrouded in darkness had a glimmer of light peeking through its half-opened blinds.

Curiosity inevitably got the better of you so you grabbed your baked goods and made a beeline to the dark house, intrigued by the prospect of who its resident might be.

Clearing your throat and brushing some creases out of your skirt, you press the sooty doorbell and hope your mystery neighbour is in a sociable mood. The hopeful smile is wiped off your face when the door opens and you see the same rude man from this morning before you.

“Look at that! My very own girl scout.” He laughs incredulously and you form a face of disgust.

“It’s you.” You recoiled.

“Try saying that with less repulsion.” He retaliated, eyes flicking between your frowning face, your tits and the basket of cookies. “Coming to a man’s house and being disappointed that he lives there. That a hobby of yours?”

“N-no, I didn’t know who lived here.” You stuttered, taking in the sight before you: he must’ve just gotten out the shower as his hair was dripping wet and his shirt unbuttoned, a silver cross necklace dangling over his collarbones and positioned between his firm pecs.

“Thought you said you don’t talk to strangers, let alone turn up at their house.” He cocked his head to the side, leaning against his doorframe. “Uninvited, at that.”

“I don’t. At least not the rude ones who make comments about a girl’s underwear.” You retorted petulantly.

“Hey, that was me looking out for you. Don’t know what kind of pervs live ‘round here- they could take advantage of a girl like you. Those for me?” He points at the basket.

“I-I guess.” You go to take out one bag but he snatches the whole basket. “What do you mean a girl like me?”

“Oh you know-“ He speaks casually, mouth half full of his first helping of baked goods already. “Ditzy. Spoilt and naive.”

You huff in disbelief- you’d hardly had two conversations with the guy and he’d managed to insult you several times already.

“Don’t get offended, princess. I’m sure you’re not used to people speaking so candidly with you but welcome to the real world.” He makes a face indicating that he was impressed with your confectionary, licking the crumbs off his fingers. “This your first time living away from home?” He points his second cookie at your face before stuffing that in his mouth too.

“Uh, yeah.” You drawl, confused. What planet was this guy from?

“Alone?” He lowers his voice, staring hungrily into your eyes.

“Yeah.” You squeak, wondering why your confidence had abandoned you.

“Shouldn’t have told me that.” He sneered. “I could be a predator and you’ve just armed me with the knowledge that you have no one to protect you.” His eyes look crazed and you get the sense that he got a kick out of playing around with you.

“Well, are you?” You reply unamused and he drops the act, looking at you through squinted discerning eyes.

“Mm, no.” He sniffed. “Haven’t got the stomach for it. Great cookies, by the way. You’re quite the little baker.”

You can’t resist the smile that creeps up on your face, delighted with his approval. “I try.” You humbly gleam, teetering on your tiptoes.

“Aw, you actually look sort of pretty when you’re not scowling.” Your glowing face drops in an instant, marred by his insult.

“Sort of?”

“Yeah. Like in an endearing but bratty child kind of way.” He notices your sullen face, tensed up with disapproval and confusion. “You’re not really my type, sweetheart.”

“Y-you’re not mine either!” You spit out a little too fast.

“The only difference is I don’t care.” He snorts and you remain in stunned silence, your ego bruised beyond words. “What’s the matter? Never had a man uninterested in you? Come in, I’ll make you a consolatory coffee.”

He gestures for you to enter and you walk in cautiously, following his lead to the lounge. His house was minimalist, fitted with sleek black furniture and a surprisingly clean kitchen at the other end of the living room.

“I don’t drink coffee. And what is your type then?” You sink down onto his leather armchair and cross your arms.

“I like a more mature, developed woman.” You look down at your large round breasts. “I meant emotionally.” He adds before you can say anything.

“I’m plenty mature.” You think grumpily. You knew better than to base your self-worth on the validation of a man but goddamn it, you wanted him to like you even if you didn’t like him.

“My type is also mature men.” You countered haughtily.

“I don’t recall asking.” He pours himself a coffee and sits down opposite you, continuing to steal glances at your chest.

“I also like them wealthy.” You add, spurred on by his disaffection.

“Like your daddy?” He smirks as he takes a sip and you scowl at him.

“Oh no, not the frown again.” He falters mockingly. “If looks could kill…you know Bunny, you shouldn’t let things get to you so easily.”

“Can’t help it. I’m sensitive.” You mumble half-mindedly, preoccupied with plotting all the ways in which you could seduce him. You tried to have self-respect, you really did, but it was just so hard. Especially when you’d just been dealt such an unprecedently juicy challenge; a man who didn’t want to sleep with you? It was practically unheard of and you humbly decided you would take it upon yourself to cure him of this affliction.

Next chapter

Taglist:

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen fanfiction #anakin skywalker #James Kelly #American heist #james Kelly fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin x you

[koishiro]

# - 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐗 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : i finished re-reading asoa and now i can’t get this outta my headdd

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

…megs would be so intrigued by you!!! He’d wonder how you became a jujutsu sorcerer if you’re deaf - how could you hear curses? Weren’t you in more danger than normal?

He’d feel oddly…protective over you, wanting to keep you safe. He’d honestly chalk it down to brotherly love (yes he’s that dense). He’d start spending more time around you than any of the others and would gradually start picking up on your habits -

He’d notice that you take your shoes and socks off to feel the vibrations on the floor from the music playing, he’d catch you practicing your vowels in the reflection of the fridge door and he’d notice the concentration on your face when you fix your eyes on people’s mouths to catch what they were saying.

You’d both become closer over time after his confusing protective nature over you - holding you back before you collided with someone, standing tall behind you if someone picked on your speech, he’d even ask for things for you when you both went out.

After a while megs would still feel slightly distant since you both still had trouble understanding each other so imagine his surprise when he opened his dorm’s door one night to find you stood there with an old damaged notebook and pen.

Shocked even more when you explained you were there to help him with sign language, the scraggly little notebook filled with small doodles of hand signs with notes beneath in explanation and what they meant. His heart almost soared at this, you were so caring, so kind enough to have done this for him.

Eventually megs would start sneaking over to your dorm at night to help you with your pronunciation in exchange, claiming it was only right to return the favor…

Which would lead to megumi sneaking over to your dorm at night with your notebook in hand and snacks in the other which would usually lead to you forgetting about the lessons, instead choosing a movie or two.

The other’s would often notice megumi walking around with his eyes glued to a ruled notebook sometimes even catching him signing with his hands.

^ This would actually lead to megumi automatically signing when thanking or asking for something before catching himself (even when you’re not around).

But then came the pounding of his heart and clamminess of his hands, the contradicting thoughts and the freshly sprayed cologne on his neatly straightened uniform as he packed everything he’d need before making his way to your dorm which, in a way, started feeling like study dates without the studying.

The nervousness he’d suddenly feel around you would cause him to mumble and fidget with his hands which wasn’t good since you were constantly switching back and forth from his mouth to his hands.

You’d begin to feel like there was a slight rift between you two since megumi had picked up a habit of constantly mumbling and fidgeting but then at some point out of the blue you’d both be on a walk through kyoto when you feel a tug on your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

Turning around you realise megumi had something on his mind by the way he was playing with your fingers, avoiding eye contact. He’d just stand there for a minute before raising his hands and signing with both his hands and mouth, ‘let’s be a couple’ while he nibbles his lips.

megs would start to panic from the lack of response and the look on your face only worsens his worries thinking he’s either been too forward or worse - it’s one sided.

But his worries quickly melt away when he sees the smile gradually take over your face before signing AND pronouncing ‘finally’ just the way he taught you.

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 (2) : i’m kicking and screaming rn -

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

#‧₊˚🖇️ #🍓 ₊˚✩⊹ #˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒋𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒏 #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk x y/n #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #jjk megumi #megumi imagine #megumi headcanons #megumi x you #jujutsu megumi #megumi x y/n #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x you #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #jjk fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #megumi x reader fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader

[hastyprovocateur]

Girlfriend Ellie Headcanons

Cw- mature content, sexual themes

• Ellie's diffident, quiet ways lead many to think she's pensive or moody but honestly, she just needs to know you won't get weirded out when she finally gets comfortable and immediately begins goobing out over the neotibicen linnei life cycle and types of acrylic glazes. One smile does it for her. Suddenly, she's scooted close to you on the couch, knees grazing yours as she ignores the rest of the room.

• She'll let you touch her tattoo, describing the idea behind it, how little it hurt, how it healed, lost in conversation with you. It goes from pyramids to chapstick, nothing's off the table with Ellie Williams and her favourite person. She'll share earphones with you, listening to her favourites Bon Jovi, The Police, Smiths and Aerosmith under a starry sky.

Watch out, she belts Fiona Apple and Kate Bush.

• It's something in your eyes that lets her know not to hold back and hold back, she won't. She has to hover around you now. A big mistake was thinking Ellie has game which she does if having game meant something entirely else. She will act a fool to get noticed by you, cracking lame jokes, mock imitating you, fiddling with your straps and buttons and butting into your sentences just to draw your ire slash attention.

• Will bring you a pair of scissors, requesting that you cut her hair for her but really she just needs to feel your hands in her hair, stroking through the knots, brushing them, fluffing them up before soaking them, holding each lock taut before you run the scissors across their ends. She'll let the length and style be upto you. As long as it's not a fuss to take care of. Will gauge your reaction after you're done.

Do the layers make you want to ride me like a slut?

• Ellie establishes affection through touch. Patting your hip while taking a group photo, grazing your back while helping you pick a box of supplies up, leaving her hand on your ankle a little too long after tying your laces, mindlessly coiling your loose strands, holding your wrist to catch her breath from a fit of laughs, or even scratching off paint from your chest which she accidentally flicked on you.

• Yes, she paints, doodles, sketches around you. Even better, she draws stuff for you to colour in whenever you get bored and demands you pose for her or act as a live figure sample, angling your face and drooping your hand and arranging your fingers to let her sketch it out.

• One night, you tempt her enough to paint you topless, her finger quivering ever so slightly and her breath hitching as she switched her eyes between your blushing breasts and her aged paper. She was clinging onto your initial excuse for dear life:-

Well, we're both girls...

• She will do everything to the point of teaching you how to kiss BUT ask you out and dare to act confused when you take her by the collars, pinning her back on her bed, begging her to quit stalling and ask you out already. She, of course, acts like she knew all along. Joking about how you broke first, earning her first Ellie-being-annoying chuck under the chin from you.

• Will be incredibly smug about scoring you as a girlfriend because come on, total babe like you, the boys were practically shooting daggers at her. Ellie would pull you closer by the waist if you speak too animatedly with another comrade, kiss you on a whim, play with your bottom lip and hold your neck like she had you on a leash in public.

• She got off getting reprimanded by you, pinching your waist or slipping a hand into your back pocket or serenading you mid-task, dipping your head far back, giving you a juicy kiss before pulling you back up and walking off like nothing happened.

• Is a soft, gentle drunk. She'll want you by her side, guitar in hand as she sings a sweet song. Her eyes would be heavy, words slurring ever so lightly and she'd enunciate each word, dipping her head and looking up at you with a heartfelt smile whenever she felt like dedicating a line to you.

Shying away... I'll be coming for your love, okay?

• She will insist you wear her best flannels, that way you get to smell her and her shirts come back smelling like fresh detergent. It's a fair deal, Ellie protested mid smack but grew sombre, hugging and sniffing you with her eyes closed. No matter if it's been a long, sweaty, grimy day, Ellie would want to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, kiss, lick and sniff you till she's had her fill. She's keen enough to have figured out you smell different throughout the month, after a shower, falling asleep or waking up, she can tell the time of the day by your sweet, earthy scent.

• Her greatest turn-on was seeing you lounging in her sheets sporting just her shirt and nothing else. Ellie would hike the hem up your thigh, your belly, giving herself a first chair to your blossoming folds, watching them swell and soak with your charged back and forth. She'd eventually shut your smart quips up with a deft thumb pressing directly onto your rosebud.

• She figured out you went commando on one such outing and suddenly, she's a dog that found a bone in a bush once and is obligated to check in the same place everyday. No matter if it's inside, on patrols or communal gatherings, she'll pull you to the side and demand you unbuckle your pants and show her if you're wearing panties or not. She'll grow clingier and more touchy if she finds out you aren't.

Can't believe I've been replaced by a fucking seam...

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou2 smut #ellie tlou2 #ellie tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #tlou2 headcanon #tlou2 smut #tlou drabble

[nothankyoudear]

Arthur has recently discovered pens.

See, when Merlin introduced Arthur to things like the Internet or an iPhone or a Lunchable, he knew that Arthur would have his mind blown. But pens were not amongst the list of things that he thought Arthur would obsess over.

He says he loves how easy they are to use, and how you don't have to re-dip them a million times to finish your paragraph, but Merlin suspects that it's not that at all.

Merlin suspects it's because they're easy to write on skin with.

This little thought of his occurred when he began waking up with little doodles all over him. A flower on his upper arm. A sword on his shoulder. An "A" on his hipbone. A small crown on his ring finger.

Every day he'd scrub them off in the shower, and the next morning he'd wake up with another.

Merlin isn't bothered by it, really, he thinks it’s cute. The problem is that Arthur has recently abandoned the practice of doodling, and has taken up the art of just straight-up writing things on Merlin.

And Merlin would be fine with it in any other occasion, but having "pretty pretty pretty" written on the back of his hands, or “mine” on his thighs really is not the most convenient thing.

So like any other person dealing with an overly expressive and out of control boyfriend would, Merlin asks Arthur if he wants to get matching tattoos (and explained what the word “tattoo” meant). Arthur says yes, and they both get the Pendragon sigil tattooed on their forearms.

Only, the tattoos didn't help at all, and Arthur has instead just resolved to doodling little fires coming out of the dragon's mouth.

Merlin swears that Arthur planned it all along, but when he wakes up to an "I love you so much" next to the dragon, he doesn't have much to complain about.

#theyre so fucking cute #two am headcanons #merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #arthur pendragon #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin/arthur #arthur #oneshot #ficlet #merthur headcanon #headcanon #my writing #my posts #modern merthur

[callsign-relic]

Hiya! I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if you’d be interested in making a continuation of the one TFP Starscream fic with the (people pleaser) reader in the forest? It was really fun to read, thank you by the way! Perhaps them bonding or something, or just hangin out? Also, pardon me, but could the reader be artistically inclined? Or just an artist or someone who enjoys drawing. Thank you for your time!

Hi, it’s nice to hear from you again! I’m doing well, thank you for asking! This dynamic was so fun to get back to! The last fic was so fun to write, and I’m happy to say the same for this one too :)

The original fic can be found here!

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SFW, Fem!Human!Reader

The little forest hideaway by the waterfall quickly became a regular meeting spot for you and Starscream. Regrettably so, at least to the mech, evidenced by how constantly he made you aware of how much he despised your presence- but, c’mon! If you ran into a giant talking robot, wouldn’t you want to hang out with it more?

The first few times you had acted like you ran into that spot again by accident, but you knew the seeker was aware of what you were doing the whole time, so eventually you stopped kidding yourself and just started casually showing up. Over time, his attitude towards you seemed to relax, if only a little. And while Starscream was the prickly type, you could handle his snide comments if it meant he didn’t threaten to shoot his missiles at you.

So, there you were- sitting with your legs crossed atop a rock beside the rushing river that flowed from the waterfall. The mech was faced away from you, sat cross legged as well and fiddling with a piece of technology in his claws. He had remarked once that he had another base of operations- a wrecked ship by the name of The Harbinger, from which he found these pieces of what looked to you like scrap metal- but he still frequented the forest as the sound of the water supposedly helped him concentrate.

You had once asked if you could see The Harbinger.

Starscream declined.

Oh well, you’d get to see more of his culture someday. Till then, you were content with just being near the bot. Taking care to be as quiet as possible- part of the agreement of you being able to stay was if you didn’t bother him while he worked- you dig around the travel bag at your side. Soon enough, you pull out your trusty sketchbook and mechanical pencil.

You leaf through some of the first, filled pages. Lined with random doodles here and there, only a couple pages housed sketches you found worthy to share. But as the pages went on, the artwork became more refined- and one subject in particular appeared over and over again until it was practically all the pages were made up of.

Starscream.

What could you say? The mech’s anatomy fascinated you. It couldn’t have hurt to do a couple of direct observation studies, right? You cringed at some of your first few attempts- his form was completely alien to you, so it would make sense that things looked off at first. You instead focused on practicing one part of him at a time. His head, his chassis, his servos… and eventually, you felt confident enough to try and piece them all together.

In his frustration, the mech had shifted himself in profile to you, rather than facing the opposite direction. You suppressed a grin- this was the perfect opportunity.

Your mechanical pencil danced across the page as your eyes flicked back and forth between the bot and the sketchbook. First you got the initial shapes of his frame down, then the more complicated sections of his plating- it felt good to finally get into the groove.

“What are you doing?”

You flail your arms in shock, the sketchbook jumbling into the air before you catch it and hug it tightly against your chest. Starscream stares at you with squinted optics and a raised optical ridge. He said nothing more, so obviously he was expecting some sort of reply.

“What, uh, what do you mean?” You ask, plastering on a smile that, despite your best efforts, came out crooked.

“You’re awfully quiet, fleshy,” the mech replies. While your agreement of staying quiet did stand, you had to admit, you did often ask him a lot of questions anyway. While he did answer them- not without first making a show of how much of a pain it was- something told you that he just liked hearing the sound of his own voice, allowing you to ask as much as you liked. “What are you scheming?”

“Scheming? Nothing! I’m not scheming or doing anything like that!” You scramble to say. Your grip on your sketchbook grows tighter. It was one thing to visit him and press him for fun facts, but if Starscream ever saw that the main subject of your artwork for the past month was solely him? You had a feeling this visit would’ve been your last.

“Really?” He grumbles, optics shifting downward the slightest bit. “Then what is that thing you seem so bent on protecting?”

“Nothing!” You lie. Despite your words, your arms don’t budge.

“If you’re planning on betraying me, you’re doing a bad job at hiding it.” He casts whatever he was working on aside, shifting to face you on his knees and reaching a long servo out to you. You scoot backwards, but the rough surface of the rock upon which you sat caused friction against your behind— you were moving a lot slower than you would have liked.

His hand raises directly above you, blotting out the sun overhead. You shut your eyes tightly, bracing to be grabbed—

Except, it never happens.

You crack open an eye, only to see the mech’s index finger and thumb directly before you. Your sketchbook is plucked from your grasp with ease. You jump to your feet, futilely reaching up for it to no avail.

Starscream brings the book to his faceplate, carefully opening it with the very tips of his pointed servos. How he handled such a tiny thing in his claws so well astounded you. Perhaps you should’ve given him more credit when it came to knowing what he was doing.

He flips through the first pages with a bored look, but as he progresses, his squint becomes more intense. “Are these…” he finally speaks, breaking the agonizing silence, “…supposed to be me?”

You swallow. You couldn’t read his expression as good or bad, nor gather anything besides the usual annoyance from his tone. “Yes,” you finally bring yourself to admit. There was no point in hiding it now. “I-I mean, I know they’re not that good still, I was just doing them for practice. If you want me to stop, I can do that…”

As you frantically ramble, it takes a moment for the mech to tear his optics away from the pages and look to you. When your stammering comes to a stop, he’s silent for one more moment before reaching back out and placing the sketchbook back before you.

You look down to bring the book into your arms once more, and when you look back up, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Starscream was sat back down in profile to you, uselessly tinkering with the metal in his hands. You look around, wondering if all of that was somehow one big hallucination.

“You’re… not mad?” You squeak.

The seeker doesn’t turn to you when he answers. “I cannot deny talent when it is there, though I do not know much of the arts.”

You blink for a second. Was that a compliment? Had he just said his very first nice thing to you?!

“S-So… can I keep doing it?” You were terrified of pushing your luck, but if he didn’t want you drawing him, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

“I couldn’t care less what you do, human,” he shoots a quick, pointed glare, “but… if my frame is truly of such interest to you, I would not object to being the subject matter for a little longer.”

#Transformers #Transformers Prime #tfp #reader insert #Starscream #tfp starscream #Starscream tfp #Transformers x reader #Transformers Prime x reader #tfp x reader #starscream x reader #tfp starscream x reader #Starscream tfp x reader #relic writes

[chronicbeans]

What would it be like if you were Wally's puppeteer?

I actually have a whole story, start to finish for that scenario! I'll provide the links to the Masterlist that have the parts for it below, alongside some extra little info and just an overview for his behaviors and thoughts! Just a heads up, these Masterlists are a bit chaotic, because I am not well practiced in making them! 😅 Also, the story is pretty old - my first one on here - so idk how well it holds up!

Being Wally Darling's Puppeteer:

TW: Idol Worshipping, Obsessive Behavior, Unintentional Violence (Puppet Man Doesn't Understand how Fragile Humans can be)

As a puppet, Wally isn't necessarily in as much control over you as he would be as a puppeteer. He doesn't mind, though! He doesn't see the need to control you. It's your job to control him. Why would he want to control you?

He always knew he was a puppet, but not necessarily what it meant. To him and his friends, being a puppet was basically the same as being human, just with more stuffing and felt than skin and bone. So, when he got brought to the human world, realizing that every puppet has a puppeteer... someone who controls what they say and do everyday... his mind is blown. His mindset is filled with the idea that making you happy will, in turn, make his already pleasant life perfect! His friends will be even happier, he will be happier, and most importantly, you will be happier!

Then, that desire to make his own life better fades away as everything settles in better. As he watches you, he begins to grow attached to you. Well, more so than a puppet and puppeteer already are. You are his savior! Think about it! Someone who controls what he says and does in his world... What does that sound like to you?

He isn't scared to reveal himself to you. He's your puppet! Why would you be scared if he is walking and talking? You are pals! You have a bond stronger than pals, actually! He wants your attention. He wants your affection. He wants you to be proud of him. He needs it.

He is willing to go to extreme lengths, however, he doesn't understand the consequences of it. As a puppet, he can handle things like... say, a heavy object falling from a high place and hitting his head. That may sound very specific, but as a three foot tall puppet, that's one of the few things he can do. He can also handle things like accidentally stapling himself. Just pull it out! It feels uncomfortable, yes, but no severe injuries! He doesn't understand that humans can't handle it. That humans are harmed by it. He may know that if feels uncomfortable for them and mean to do these things, but he doesn't understand the extent of injury these actions can cause.

So, you may notice some of your coworkers being brought to the hospital for odd injuries. An "incident with the stapler", "a large box of tools fell on their head", "the sewing machine malfunctioned". They never really want to explain what actually happened when they come back, either. They tend to avoid you, too. Wally does feel bad, don't get me wrong! He didn't mean to hurt them that badly... But, depending on the person, he might think they deserved it. Specifically if they were mean to you in the past.

You also get a bucket load of letters, drawings, and paintings on your desk at work, every single day. He has no fear in signing them, either! He'll proudly write his name, mention how much he loves you, and doodle little hearts and smiley faces all over the paper. If he didn't reveal that he is alive at this point in time, you probably think that it is all some sick joke. If he did, you are most likely twice as scared as before.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader

[ruskaroma]

omg imagine if jw was super nosey and looked through the readers diary and found out all the secret fantasies the reader had and tried fulfilling them in bed to suprise them

oh my god he DEF would !!!!!

her diary would be filled with a bunch of stickers and doodles that john finds cute, and he really thought her rants and thoughts about school and past boyfriends and girlfriends are all he'd find in her journal.

he didn't expect to see his name there, though. they've been fooling around her mom's back for a few weeks, but the dates of the notes goes way past the day they broke the tension and finally fucked.

there's something about the way dad's hands would always find their way to my thighs and waist. i know he doesn't think much of it, but it means so many different things to me.

they're so huge and rough, almost enough to engulf my whole thigh in one hand. and his fingers... god. this is so wrong - he's my dad! well, my step-dad, but still. he practically raised me, and here i am fantasizing sucking his fingers.

every night, i lay on my mind, thinking about how far his fingers could reach inside my pussy :( i'd cry. i can't even push my own fingers in without tearing up, and dad's fingers are so thick and long.

john raises a brow, a small smirk making its way in his face. he has already grown uncomfortably hard as his cock fattens up immediately in his pants.

i want dad to shove his fingers so deep in my cunt i'd feel it in my stomach. i keep imagining how he'd probably lick my clit at the process :( he's always been so attentive. i bet he'll always place my pleasure before his first.

and god.. when he wears his work clothes? it makes me so damn horny. he looks so big and broad in his suits. i've always had a fantasy about him fucking me while wearing one of his black suit.

he closes the journal before his eyes could even read the next sentence. he'd lose control and nut all over the place like a premature teenage boy if he keeps reading.

that same night, john would probably teasing you about it throughout dinner. he'd play with your hands while watching a movie with your mom, something he's always done ever since you were a kid, but now it has a different meaning. john finally understands just what you meant about his hands; they look absolutely huge in contrast to yours.

he wonders how you'd look like when he has his large hand around your neck as he forces his cock inside your little cunthole. you'd roll your eyes back, squirt all over his fat cock, wet all over your bed and -

when it's finally bedtime, you're not surprised when you see john sitting on your bed as this has always been the same routine with the two of you in the past few weeks. though, you turn red when you see what's in his hands.

your fucking journal.

“dad! oh my god, why do you have that -” you stutter, feeling yourself stuck in your position as your mind thinks about all the embarrassing stories and thoughts you'd written in that book. or worse, the ones about him.

he turns to you, a familiar glint in his eyes as he stands up and places the journal on the night stand. when he makes his way to you, you can't even form a single coherent words as you try to avoid his faze.

he's still in his work clothes - black suit, black pants, hair slicked up. you thought that after dinner he'd probably change and took a shower, but you can still smell the lingering cologne in his clothes and he smells and look fucking amazing.

he doesn't say anything when he stands in front of you. john raises his right hand, gripping your jaw and forcing you to finally look at him in the eyes.

“there's my good girl,” he whispers, thumb grazing your bottom lip as he watches you with hungry eyes. “my girl has the prettiest eyes.”

a reply is about to leave your mouth but replaced with a gasp when john suddenly pushes his index and middle finger inside your mouth, his left hand snaking up to your neck to keep your head in position, looking up at him with teary eyes from gagging around his fingers and gripping his wrist with your little hands to keep yourself from falling over.

“daddy's really sorry for reading your little diary, baby,” john coos, relishing the sounds of your gagging as you struggle to reply. “but i'm sure you'll forgive me once i give you what you've been fantasizing about for a long time.”

#ask #concept #drabble #stepdad!john #my works #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick smut #john wick #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves smut

[frankoceanluvrr]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 2 — 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

pairing : friends to lovers , fem!reader , college!peter, college!au

warnings : nothing too serious. english isn’t my first language, urdu is! so please tell me about grammatical errors like spelling and punctuation as those i struggle with

summary : [Name] and Peter have been friends since college started. He soon finds out his friend has a ‘crush’ on the masked vigilante Spiderman, and cant help but feel a little jealous.

part 1 here! : https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/frankoceanluvrr/715754434612838400

a/n : @natashamaximoff69 requested! thank you for 10 followers !!!!! ❤️ sorry this is a bit rushed

“I hate studying.” You groaned, putting your head on the table.

“Well, maybe you hate it because you’re always doodling instead of actually learning. Who do you draw again? What’s he called? Spiderman?” Peter teased.

“I hate you so much” you laughed lifting your head up.

You guys weren’t even studying for anything important. You both just wanted to spend time together, even if it meant studying topics in advance.

“I gotta go,” Peter said, looking at his watch, “See you tomorrow?”

“Uh, actually, you wanna go see a movie tonight?” You asked, not even looking at him.

“What? Like a date?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah, like a date.” You breathed, meeting his soft but excited gaze.

“What time?” He said, shocked this was even happening.

“Just text me when you’re done doing whatever you’re doing.” You said, putting all your things in your bag, “should I walk you to wherever you’re going?”

“Wow, you’re really the gentleman [Name],” he smirked, “but no it’s fine, thanks though”

“Be safe” you smiled as he walked away.

You ran to your friends as soon as you saw him leave.

“Did you ask?” Your friend Gwen asked, grabbing both your arms.

“He said yes!” You smiled widely.

“Geez, calm down [Name]” Your other friend Mj laughed, “it’s just a date right?”

“Well, I might ask him to be my boyfriend by the end of it. I don’t know though, what if he thought it’s just like.. a friend date? Oh my God that would be so embarrassing��” You rambled before being cut off.

“Friend dates exist?” Gwen looked puzzled, “anyway, don’t overthink it [Name]. He so obviously likes you back.”

“Yeah [Name], you practically have nothing to worry about. We can help you get ready for it too” Mj smiled.

You spent the whole day with them in your dorm planning everything down to potential conversation answers. He spent the day.. differently. Being Spiderman wasn’t easy. He was obviously excited for the date, but he had other problems.

It was now 10pm, you were staring at your phone. It was off on your bed and your friends were staring with you.

“Maybe you should go over to his dorm, he’s probably nervous.” Gwen sighed, passing you your phone.

“You sure he’s not just standing me up?” You frowned, looking at your friends.

“No, and even if he was, he’d be making a big mistake. You’re a catch.” Gwen smiled, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“[Name], just go to his dorm, he might be waiting for you or something.” Mj laughed, pushing you on your way.

You got to his dorm and knocked on the door. The door opened slightly, and you could see a figure crawling through the window. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening the door even more until it made a noise. The figure stopped and began to turn around, you hid behind the door but it started to open even more revealing you.

Then you saw him. Spiderman? Breaking into Peters dorm?

You reached into your pockets frantically to ring the police. He rushed towards you.

“I’m not a criminal I promise.” His tone panicked, shutting the door behind you.

And with that, he took the mask off revealing himself.

“Peter?” You said, eyes widened.

“Hey” He said sheepishly, the shock not even settling in for him yet.

You were the first person to know he was Spiderman.

“How? When? What?” Your questions could barely get out your mouth, “you’re Spiderman??”

“Well, to answer your first questions, a radioactive spider bit me when I was 15. I’ve never told anyone about this, and neither can you. Secret identity you know?”

“That won’t be a problem, but are you okay?” You said, noticing his face was slightly bruised.

“I’m fine now” He smiled softly, taking your hands.

“Do you have like 8 hidden eyes?” You said standing back slightly, taking in the information given to you.

“What?” He laughed, “no, [Name], I don’t have 8 eyes unfortunately.”

“This cant be real” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I thought you said Spiderman was old and had bleached hair?”

His face flushed, “I was jealous.”

“Of yourself?” You laughed, pushing his arm.

“Shut up, it’s just the way you were talking about him”

“I was talking about you though.”

“Whatever, why don’t we just go to the movies hm? I heard they’re re-running scream.” He said attempting to shift the conversation.

“Good idea.” You smiled, “but I still have more questions you know.”

“Ask me on the way, let me get changed.” He said running off to the bathroom, “you look really beautiful by the way.”

And that’s when it really settled in that he was Spiderman. He was the one who was complimenting you. The one helping you and thousands of others. You began to worry about him as he was getting ready. He had to face danger everyday. Risking his life everyday. Before your thoughts could get any worse, he came out dressed like Peter Parker. The Peter you fell in love with, not Spiderman.

“I hope you know I don’t like you more because you’re Spiderman, I still hate you” You smirked.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say [Name].”

In reality, he was scared you might only like him now because he’s Spiderman. He’s never been so wrong about you.

The walk to the movies was filled with every question you could think of, and Peter didn’t mind. He loved the fact he could talk to someone about this, but he loved talking to you more.

#friends to lovers #spiderman x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker #fanfic #spiderman x you #fem reader #fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #idiots in love #tasm!peter x you

[elryuse]

yandere classmate Takara? she's been in my mind lately

Deadly Classmate

Yandere Classmate Takara X Male Reader

The fluorescent lights hummed with an annoying buzz, casting a sterile glow on the empty classroom. Y/n squirmed in his seat, his heart a frantic drum solo against his ribs. Across the room, Takara, the K-pop idol who somehow ended up sharing his homeroom, was engrossed in a textbook. Yet, he felt her like a heat signature, the prickling sensation at the back of his neck a constant reminder.

"Hey, Takara," Y/n ventured, his voice a mere squeak. It had been weeks since they first spoke, a shy greeting that felt more like a dare than anything else.

Takara looked up, a slow, practiced smile blooming on her face. "Oh, Y/n! Didn't see you there," she chirped, her voice sugary sweet, a stark contrast to the intensity in her eyes. "Studying for the biochem test already?"

"Uh, yeah," Y/n mumbled, looking down at his notebook filled with doodles rather than chemical formulas. Her gaze felt like a physical touch, tracing every movement he made.

The weeks that followed were a slow descent into paranoia. He'd catch her lingering by his locker, a single pink hair clip – the one she always wore on stage – nestled amongst his textbooks. In the library, amidst a sea of students, he'd swear he saw a flash of her signature bubblegum pink hair tucked behind a bookshelf just before he entered a secluded corner.

One day, at lunch, Y/n decided to confront her, his nerves a knotted mess in his stomach. As she sat alone, picking at a salad, he sat down opposite her, the plastic tray feeling impossibly heavy in his hands.

"Takara," he began, his voice barely a whisper.

She looked up, her smile widening. The air crackled with unspoken tension as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with an unsettling curiosity. "Yes, Y/n?"

"I… I've been seeing you around a lot lately," he blurted out, hating how his voice trembled.

"Just trying to be a good classmate, am I right?" she said, her voice dripping with a feigned innocence that sent shivers down his spine. "Besides, you're in all my classes, wouldn't it be strange if I didn't see you around?"

Y/n shook his head, his throat tightening. "No, that's not what I meant. It's just…" he trailed off, unsure how to articulate the suffocating feeling that had become his constant companion.

"Just what?" Takara's smile faltered for a brief moment, a flicker of something dark crossing her eyes before the sugary sweetness returned. "Don't worry, Y/n. I won't bite… much."

The playful lilt in her voice did little to ease Y/n's growing fear. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with a loud screech. "I… I need some air," he stammered, his gaze darting around the cafeteria, searching for an escape route.

"Wait, Y/n!" Takara called after him, her voice laced with a hint of desperation that made him quicken his pace. He didn't stop until he reached the safety of the schoolyard, the crisp autumn air a welcome relief to the stifling atmosphere of the cafeteria.

His newfound resolution crumbled a few days later at the school mixer. Emboldened by a sip of cheap beer, he found himself laughing with a group of girls. One, a bubbly redhead with a mischievous glint in her eyes, took his hand, leading him onto the dance floor.

As they swayed to the music, a cold hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see Takara, her smile gone, replaced by a mask of fury. The playful idol was gone, her eyes burning with a dangerous intensity.

"He's already promised this dance to me, hasn't he?" she hissed, her voice low and menacing.

Y/n felt the blood drain from his face. The redhead, sensing the shift in atmosphere, turned to see Takara's chilling smile. "Uh, I…" she stammered, her hand dropping from Y/n's shoulder like a hot coal.

"Don't worry," Takara purred, her voice dripping with a sickening sweetness. "He'll dance with me." Her grip tightened on Y/n's arm, sending a jolt of pain shooting up his shoulder.

The DJ switched songs, a slow, romantic ballad filling the air. Y/n felt like a puppet, his body being pulled onto the dance floor by a force he couldn't control. Takara clung to him possessively, her eyes glued to his every move.

"You shouldn't have danced with her," she whispered, her voice dangerously low. "You only belong to me, Y/n."

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Takara, what are you…?"

"Don't worry," she interrupted, her smile widening. "I'll take care of you. You'll never have to look at anyone else again."

Terror choked his voice. The way she said "take care of you" sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't a promise of love, it was a chilling threat. The rest of the night was a blur. He spent it trapped in her suffocating embrace, her manic energy fueling his growing fear.

The next morning, news of the redhead's "accidental" fall from the school staircase hit him like a physical blow. The police ruled it a tragic accident, but Y/n knew better. He saw the triumphant glint in Takara's eyes when she heard the news, the way she hummed along to a cheery pop song as they walked home from school that day.

Sleep became a luxury he couldn't afford. Nightmares plagued him, filled with saccharine melodies and the glint of a silver hairpin, the one Takara always wore on stage. He started carrying a pepper spray, a meager defense against a threat he couldn't fully comprehend.

He tried to tell his parents about his fear, about the way he felt like he was being watched. But their response was a tired sigh and a dismissive, "It's just a crush, honey. She's probably just a big fan."

One rainy afternoon, as he walked home, a black van screeched to a halt beside him. Two men, their faces devoid of emotion, emerged. Before Y/n could react, they were upon him, strong arms muffling his screams.

He awoke in a dimly lit room, the only furniture a plush armchair and a single, flickering light bulb. Takara sat in the chair, a picture of domestic bliss, knitting a scarf with disturbingly quick movements. She looked up, her smile wider, colder than before.

"Welcome home, Y/n," she said, her voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.

Y/n's voice, rough from disuse, cracked as he spoke. "Takara… what is this?"

Takara's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face before the chilling mask returned. "This, Y/n," she said, her voice soft, almost childlike. "This is your..no.. This is Our Future."

Her words sent a jolt of terror through him. This wasn't a twisted game anymore. This was a prison, built with twisted affection and fueled by a terrifying obsession. He had to get out, he had to survive.

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on a metal toolbox in the corner. A desperate plan began to form in his mind. "Takara," he forced a smile, his voice trembling. "T-that.. scarf looks lovely. Can I see it?"

Takara's eyes widened in surprise, the first genuine emotion he'd seen on her face since his abduction. "For you?" she stammered, her voice betraying a flicker of doubt.

Y/n nodded, his heart pounding against his ribs. It was a gamble, but it was his only chance. If he could get close enough…

The story can continue from here with Y/n attempting to overpower Takara or escape, adding more dialogue as the situation escalates. You can also explore the psychological horror of his captivity, highlighting Takara's twisted justifications for her actions and Y/n's desperate struggle for survival.

The toolbox was tantalizingly close, but Takara held the scarf out to him, her eyes sparkling with a dangerous hope. "Here," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Just for you."

Y/n inched closer, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He reached for the scarf, his hand brushing against hers. A jolt of electricity shot through him, a strange mix of fear and… something else.

"You're scared," Takara murmured, her voice a seductive sigh. Her touch lingered on his, sending shivers down his spine. "But you don't have to be. Here, with me, you'll be safe."

He looked into her eyes, the familiar glint replaced by a mesmerizing vulnerability. Maybe, just maybe, there was a sliver of humanity buried beneath the layers of obsession.

"Takara," he began, his voice hoarse. "Let me go. This isn't… this isn't love."

Her smile faltered, a flicker of pain crossing her face before being replaced by a steely resolve. "Love? Maybe not," she said, her voice losing its sweetness. "But it's all we have, Y/n. Can't you see that?"

The vulnerability was gone, replaced by a terrifying intensity. Y/n knew then that escape was his only option. He lunged for the toolbox, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

But Takara was faster. With a swift movement, she sent the toolbox clattering across the room. Her grip tightened around his wrist, her touch burning into his skin.

"Don't," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Fear choked back his words. He was trapped, a fly caught in the web she had spun. But as quickly as the fear came, a surge of defiance replaced it. He wouldn't go down without a fight.

"You're insane!" he yelled, his voice hoarse.

A tear rolled down Takara's cheek, a single glistening drop in the dim light. "Maybe," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But you're mine, Y/n. And I'll do anything… anything to keep it that way."

Before he could react, she was on him, her lips pressed against his in a searing kiss. It was a kiss filled with desperation, with a twisted sense of possession.

Y/n's body recoiled in disgust, but she held him tight, her grip like a vise. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the rain outside that drummed a mournful rhythm against the windowpane.

"Stay. Please," she pleaded, her voice a broken whisper. "Stay with me, and I'll give you everything you ever wanted. Fame, fortune… a life you could only dream of."

The world blurred, a sickening mix of fear and a strange, unsettling longing. His mind screamed at him to fight back, but his body felt powerless, paralyzed by the storm of emotions swirling within him.

As the kiss ended, he looked into Takara's tear-filled eyes, a silent question hanging in the air. He knew then that escape wasn't an option. Not anymore. His choice had been made, not by him, but by the terrifying love of a deranged idol.

Takara took his silence as acceptance, a twisted smile playing on her lips. In the flickering light of the single bulb, Y/n saw not the face of a pop star, but the face of a prisoner, trapped in a cage of her own making. He was a prisoner too, bound not by bars, but by a love as toxic and deadly as the glint of the silver hairpin she held tightly in her other hand.

#busters #takara #yandere x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere blog #yandere stories #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #yandere #kpop smut

[hugsandchaos]

He’s In The Walls!

Summary: Uhh, I did the writing version of doodling last night and forgot to post it. Once again, the ranch hand tries to trick Danny into getting some sleep. Key word: tries.

Word count: 1,235

Twilight peered into the room and internally let out a mixture of a sigh and a groan. Just like he saw earlier, Danny was still awake, sitting by the fireplace, still reviewing and studying the same textbook over and over. His red notebook was left open and folded in half next to the small, but rather thick book with blue and black colors wide open. Danny called it “Algebra Two”, which was something he was supposed to start learning in over two months from the day he ended up tagging along with them.

He was determined to use any free time he had while on this adventure to get a head start, though, because according to him, math wasn’t his strong suit and Algebra is apparently part of math. It made sense, but at the same time, it frustrated Twilight a bit that it was his first thing to do when he had free time.

Unless it was nighttime. He’d instead be found outside stargazing. Except tonight.

Tonight, Danny had been reading and doing practice problems since before the sunset, right after he finished helping around with chores and dinner. It was as if he didn’t notice day had already passed by. Twilight wouldn’t be too surprised. The young teen could get pretty deep in the zone if he was left to it for long enough.

Danny reached for the mug placed on the carpet next to him and lifted it up to take a sip of the contents, but then he paused and looked inside.”Huh, must’ve drank faster than I thought.” He muttered to himself. Twilight’s mood was lifted and a smile briefly appeared on his face when he heard that. Before he could try to put his plan into motion, however, Danny stood up. He yawned and turned to go into the kitchen. There was the sound of water and movement before he came back to sit down next to the books again.

He lifted both arms up and groaned a little before letting his arms fall back down. Danny just sat there for another few seconds, eyes staring at the fire in a tired daze, then looked back at the books. Twilight decided now was the time to make his move.

The ranch hand wordlessly entered the room and began walking towards Danny. Surprisingly, he went unnoticed until he came close enough to kneel down and put the blanket around Danny’s shoulder.”Twilight? I appreciate it, but I’m not cold—“ Danny stopped his response when he noticed that the ranch hand had actually wrapped it around his shoulders. Twilight lightly pushed him down and reached one arm down so he could get his legs, too.

“Hey, what are you going?!” Danny asked, a little irritated. He moved his legs around and tried to worm out the arms that were now pinned against his sides, but he was tired after everything that transpired over the last few days.

It affected all of the members, really. Twilight had just gotten up for some water, but when he saw Danny, he went and got a spare blanket. Now he was going to use it to wrap around him and finally ensure he’d get his sleep.

Danny wriggled around in protest, but his movements didn’t have even half as much strength as usual. When Twilight successfully managed to wrap his entire body in the blanket, Danny had finally stopped fighting, but the glare he shot Twilight’s way had a small fire that wasn’t extinguished yet. The ranch hand wrapped his left arm around Danny and picked him up. As he left the room and took a turn to the right, the kid’s irritation grew with his stuff now left behind.

“Are you going to explain?” Danny asked.

“Kid, you’re falling asleep at the books and it’s midnight. You’re going to bed.” Twilight said. He turned his body and maneuvered through the doorway meant for one person, not one person plus another wrapped in a blanket.” ‘N don’t bother tryin’ to get free anymore. I know that your strength’s spent, ‘n that tea you were given actually helps with sleep, not stayin’ awake.” He added.

The hallway itself was luckily wide enough for three people, so the ranch hand was able to carry Danny without worrying about hitting him against the wall. The long window following down half of it allowed faint moonlight from the unseen moon to paint the hallway in a very dim, calming white light. It was a little quiet for a few more seconds, and Twilight had allowed himself to hope that the cozy cargo he was carrying had fallen asleep already.

“Smart move, cowboy.” Danny said. He said it in that kind of note where it’s half spite, half genuine respect. Twilight breathed out a very brief laugh from his nose as he crossed the hall towards the door on the other side, which had an unclaimed bed inside.“You know what the only problem is?” Danny asked.

Feeling a little smug about how things turned out, Twilight couldn’t help but think that whatever he was about to say or do wouldn’t be an actual problem. Sure, the kid was stronger than he looked, but any sudden bursts of fighting energy had likely already been spent. Still, he wanted to know what he was going to say for the sole purpose of seeing him when it didn’t work.”What’s that?” Twilight asked confidently. While he was focused on opening the door, he failed to notice the white light coming from Danny.

“I’m already gone.”

As soon as he started speaking, Twilight noticed the lack of weight where Danny once was. He could no longer feel the young teenager against his body and the blanket that he’d previously used to secure him fell from his arm and onto the floor. The ranch hand looked down bewildered to see nothing but empty space where Danny was supposed to be. Twilight’s eyes widened in shock as he looked around almost frantically, genuinely concerned about how the kid had disappeared and where to.

As he glanced around, his enhanced hearing picked up on a small laugh coming from the right. When he turned, he couldn’t see Danny, but something told Twilight that some kind of presence he didn’t notice before had just left the narrow room through the wall right in front of him.“He’s in the walls...” He muttered. He then picked up the blanket again and held either side in both hands. He readied himself and relied on the very odd sensation his wolf senses picked up as he ran back down the hall. He already knew that the books were probably already gone.”He’s in the goddessdamn walls!” Twilight repeated, but kept his voice down to a whisper.

When Time looked out his window to see Twilight running across the field and out of view of the window, his first thought was that something was incredibly wrong and sat up. Then, just as quickly, he saw the ranch hand return carrying a sleeping Danny into the house. He smiled a little and laid back down to go back to sleep.

The next day, he’d confirm with Twilight that Danny stayed up late studying again, and Malon would hear them and swear to have a word with him.

“Hylia help him.” Twilight joked.

“Oh, pup, Hylia would only be able to stall her for a few minutes.” Time said

#danny phantom #danny fenton #linked universe #linked universe twilight #linked universe time #linked universe x Danny phantom #Danny phantom x linked universe #I’m sorry #I’m working on the next update #I promise #just needed to get this out of my notes and drafts #crackfic

[ozzy-boy]

Volks' love languages

(his deluxe date made me start thinking about this... I'm definitely going to make more of these for the other guys <3)

-Volks isn't a touchy feely guy. He just isn't. Sure, he opens up a lot more around you than he does around other people, but that doesn't mean he isn't awkward and cagey about it.

-Won't initiate physical touch. Practically refuses to. You have to be the one to initiate everything.

-It isn't even that he doesn't want to touch you- no, he's just too stubborn to ask. Because (clearly) asking your significant other for a hug is embarrassing (obviously). He always has to bring it up in a round-about way, like "If you tripped and fell on me-" or "If you wanted to-".

-He eventually gets more and more used to it the longer you're dating.

-Just don't call attention to it when it finally happens. If you make a big deal out of him hugging or deciding to kiss you first, he'll get embarrassed and stop. It's like getting the trust of a wild animal- he's skittish. (lmao)

-In general though, physical touch just isn't really his thing. He doesn't hate it (even if he pretends he does), but it's not usually his first thought either. Hates PDA don't even try it with him cause he'll refuse.

-Isn't the biggest fan of gifts, either... He just isn't very materialistic. He could take or leave most presents, unless they were particularly thoughtful or really to his taste.

-The best gift you can give him is an activity to do together, or something for him to cook. If you ever want to get Volks downright giddy, get him the expensive wagyu. Seriously, he'll be like a kid on Christmas.

-Which leads into one love language Volks is very much a fan of: Acts of service.

-It stems from his childhood. His mother was an ER nurse- and he did everything he could to make her life less difficult.

-He got good grades, kept his room clean, didn't get in fights... He was kind of the definition of a 'good kid'. Started doing his own laundry and making his own meals a lot younger than a lot of kids typically would. He never really minded it, either. Usually, when the house was already clean and dinner was already cooked, it meant that him and his mom could spend more time together since she didn't have anything extra to do after work.

-This bleeds into his romantic relationships too, even if he doesn't realize it. The biggest way Volks shows he loves you is by doing things for you. This trait comes out x100 if you live together.

-You are NOT going to work without a packed lunch. If you bug him about it enough he might even leave you cute little notes. Usually just stupid little doodles of wolves and stuff but he doesn't understand why you love them so much.

-Cooks most of the meals and does most of the chores. (malewife fr)

-You try to insist that you should split the chores 50/50... but he just ignores it. He wants to make your life less difficult.

-"So what if I did the laundry already? We don't need to take turns doing it... C'mon, don't look at me like that."

-"Don't worry about the dishes, I'll do them myself later... Seriously, there are better ways to spend our time together."

-He's secretly such a sweetheart, although he struggles with words of affirmation.

-Sometimes, Volks will say something so incredibly sweet that it makes you swoon but it's never on purpose.

-If he's TRYING to use his words, he can't come up with anything. He's plagued with awkwardness and an emotionally stunted personality, words are hard for him. He struggles to string words together that really explain how much he likes you...

-When he says something really sweet, it's probably because he's just being honest and not putting any thought into it.

-Which... Volks kind of has a problem with sometimes. It's difficult for him to really talk about his emotions and feelings and that's why he always pushes this cares about nothing/nonchalant attitude- you can't be disappointed if nothing ever bothers you.

-So, he actually really appreciates having someone that speaks their mind and means it. You manage to fluster him so much just by being nice and honest with him.

-Hearing you say how much you like him, how attractive you think he is, how much you appreciate what he does for you... Really makes him swoon.

-He's never really put much faith into people's words- actions are what speaks loudest- but it's different when it's you. He loves your words.

-Just... tone down the flirting and compliments in public, okay? He thinks he looks like a dork when he blushes like crazy in public and he'll pout about it.

-Volks' other main love language is quality time.

-Just wants to spend time with you. He doesn't really care what you're doing, or where, or for how long.

-Whether it's for a couple of minutes between your busy schedule, or for hours at a time. Any time he spends with you is good time spent.

-Volks is a homebody and an introvert at heart. His personal time and space are not something he gives up lightly. Just the fact that he allows you in his apartment when you start dating is a high honor, because it's a privilege only few are afforded. (few = you and his mom)

-You don't even have to be doing anything when you're together. Volks is the type that's perfectly content to just exist in the same room. It gives him a good opportunity to stare at you without you noticing.

-Speaking of staring, it's practically a love language in it of itself for him. He loves to just look at you, and he doesn't really care if it's 'weird'. So what if he's staring? You're hot. It'd be a shame not to stare.

-He'll also love it if you engage in his hobbies, especially if you agree to go camping with him. Just be careful, his idea of camping is closer to straight up survival. But he'll be happy, so you figure it's worth giving up your comfortable bed and learning to spear fish in the wilderness.

#volks blush blush #blush blush volks #blush blush game #bb volks #ozzy writing #blush blush #volks #bb #volks x reader

[eijirousbestie]

where they would work

MHA HCs

Kirishima

Starbucks . ° •

He’s just so happy to be able to make people their favorite drinks.

It’s kind of endearing how he loves the shop as much as he does and he doesn’t even like coffee. Sometimes he’ll be curious about the taste of the various coffees he’s made.

He knows what it’s like to have a messed up order (and misspelled name) so he’s very meticulous with how he serves every order.

When writing a customers name on a cup, he’ll draw little doodles beside it.

Because of his bubbly personality tons of regulars flood the shop whenever he works. If he’s off shift, the shop is ridiculously empty.

His manager makes sure to keep him up front at all times because he brings in good money.

“Where’s Kirishima? The shop’s practically dead.”

“It’s his off day sir.”

Sero

Hot Topic/Spencer’s . ° •

You can’t tell me he wouldn’t work at one of these stores.

I can just imagine him wearing his usual clothes with a little employee name tag on his shirt as he talks your head off about his favorite bands at checkout.

“Look all I’m saying is Sleeping with Sirens were way ahead of their time. Gotta pay respect ya know?”

Will 100% be nosey about what you’re buying if it interests him in any way. Getting a graphic tee of your favorite artist? He’s all over it asking when you first stanned.

He finally found out what was at the back of Spencer’s and won’t stop cracking jokes about it.

Makes use of his employee discounts and shows up the next day wearing a shirt he got off the display for 75% off.

Kaminari

GameStop . ° •

Self explanatory really. Denks is such a dude’s dude he loves all types of games so why not work where he can be surrounded by them all the time?

He works cash and restocks merchandise, games, rentals and such.

When he first realized how broke he was he thought “getting a job” meant he was gonna have to slave away in an office somewhere crunching numbers. Who knew he’d have so much fun at work.

He’s practically best friends with his co-workers… except his discord mod manager. He doesn’t talk to him very much.

He chucks it up with customers who come up to him asking for the latest drops or game recommendations. He knows the ins and outs of their products and always points them in the right direction based on their preferences.

“Oh you’re wanting something similar to Overwatch? Whatever you do, don’t go Valorant. It’s kinda sucky really. Here, Apex is so much better, especially if you main Seer.”

Bakugou

McAllister’s . ° •

Okay now stay with me, it sounds random as hell to say he’d work at a deli but it makes PERFECT sense.

He’s got skill in the kitchen and I feel like he can make a mean sandwich. Bakugou as a butcher also makes sense.

When he first starts working at the deli, his manager puts him on cashier and he hates it. Having to listen to overly complicated orders drives him batty.

Needless to say, his manager put him in the kitchen after that. And thank god for that because he prefers it in the back anyways.

He secretly loves cooking for people so although he might gripe about an insane amount of pastrami going on one sub, he knows someone will eat well because of his efforts.

“What kind of a shit sandwich is this? Shit’s pissing me off I’m not making this.”

#mha headcanons #mha drabbles #mha x reader #bakugou headcanons #sero headcanons #kirishima headcannons #kaminari headcanons #bakusquad headcanons #mha hcs #bakugou katsuki #denki kaminari #hanta sero #kirishima eijirou