#whiplash x reader

[thesandwichdaddy]

Whiplash

{Alice/Andrew-Whiplash}

(TW: smut, light oral (fem receiving), fingering, questionable scenario?, light mentions of blood, Teacher x student (CONSENSUAL AND OF AGE), sub! Andrew)

I would love feedback on all of my work ! I try to make the original characters non descriptive as possible. Alice is replacing Fletcher in this. Hopefully you like it LOVE YOU ❤

3.5k words

Pure hell was the only thing Andrew could think of to describe Alice’s class. She was a cruel, sadistic music teacher who no one ever dared to challenge. Only pure insanity and masochism could drive a man to take her class.

And that was Andrew, always craving the thrill of a challenge—something to make him feel alive. Maybe it was the pure boredom and constant pity he was raised with, or maybe it was his curiosity that made him make the decision.

Although this wasn’t the idea in the beginning, A music college far, far away from his family—that's all he wanted. And sure enough, in the usual college setting, boring bullshit came in the mail, and while looking through it mindlessly, something caught his eye. A request to Schaffer was hand-picked by Alice Lambert herself.

Maybe that’s when his ego grew. There was definitely a change in him at that moment. He obsessed over it, googling anything he could about the school and Alice, trying desperately to find a reason for them to pick him to join. Was it his gpa? Something that they were specifically looking for other than just his skill? There wasn’t any way that someone like him could actually be brought to Schaffer.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t find a single other reason than Alice simply liking his performance. Andrew laughed like a madman, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Now, though he didn’t really care too much about college, he wasn’t clueless to know that Schaffer was a big deal—maybe not to his parents, but who cared about them anymore? Andrew is an adult now; all that matters now are his thoughts about himself. Or at least that’s what he thought.

It wasn’t hard to imagine a skinny, awkward boy’s first day of college and his first day in Alice‘s class. Sure, he had heard horror stories about her, some classmates whispering to him about the outrageous things she’s done. He could even find pictures of her previous classes winning awards. It was hard to imagine that someone like her could do the things he'd heard, but he could see the intimidation radiating off of her through his computer screen.

Her eyes were sharp and analytical. She was an independent, well-dressed woman. She looked neat and professional in her photos, with the charming smile she gave as she looked at the camera and wore that casual blouse and suit. There wasn’t ever a bad angle with her; she’d probably kill the photographers if there were.

Something caught Andrew's attention about her, and it wasn’t just her looks. She hadn’t been teaching long, from what he’s seen, only around two years. And she didn’t look much older at all. It almost infuriated him that someone this close to his age had already mastered and earned a job he had dreamed of having.

When he saw her in person, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He closely watched her face, every small reaction to indicate any sign of emotion other than the cold that she gave usually. Though her face didn’t budge when he walked in, she was just introducing him and telling him where to sit. Something about her voice sent a chill down Andrew's spine. Maybe it was him just needing to get used to hearing such a woman every day, or maybe it was how she said his name, which he hadn’t heard from someone in quite a long time.

Andrew kept it as cool, distant, and professional as he could. Hell, he even bought new clothes just for her class; that black blouse she had on today put his white dress shirt to shame. But he tried not to get insecure; it was much too early for that.

Despite his ego, which he was very aware of, he thought he did very well. Until Alice gave him a certain unimpressed look and just moved on after his performance. He could feel the blood rushing to his face in response as he tried to hold it together. I mean, nothing? Even a nod would be appreciated from her.

He tried harder, of course, and waited and waited. One thing Alice did tell him was that he was off-tempo—not so great, but something—an interaction with him at least. But that repeated in his head over and over and over as he stayed up late at night to practice until his hands bled. The next day, it was his tempo that was wrong again. He swore it was fine, but he quickly adjusted his tempo. Alice walked over closer and asked him to try it again.

Andrew was starting to sweat a bit now, getting nervous as she came closer, but he tried again, looking up at her after he was done to watch her expression.

He envied how she could hide her emotions so well. She gestured for him to go again, a blank look on her face, and he went again. It turned into again and again and again. He thought he was going to go insane. Alice’s patience looked like it was thinning with every passing moment. Andrews hands started to hurt, crimson red smearing on his drumstick as he played. But she didn’t care, so he didn’t care, just listening to her tell him what to do, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong.

Three hours he spent at his drum set, endlessly repeating the same beat, trying to find the goddamn tempo. It was remarkable that Alice stood in the same spot the entire time, watching him. He didn’t stop, not until the blood caused his drumstick to slip out of his bleeding, agonizing hands, forcing him to quit. And with that, Alice stared at him and gave a simple

“Needs work.”

Andrew couldn’t believe it; he didn’t want to believe it. Needs work?! Before he could say anything that might cause him to lose his hands, he picked up his drumsticks and left along with the other class in a hurry to conceal the anger and tears starting to form in his eyes. That was just one of the many things he had to endure from Alice.

He tried reminding himself that he was here for a reason. He stared at the letter Alice had sent to him, which he kept on his dresser. The one thing that felt right. The only thing he cared about. He thought of all the possibilities of her being proud of him as he bandaged and wrapped his sore, bleeding hands. He let out a harsh noise of frustration as he felt the sting of his wounds and the thought of what happened today.

He hated her; he couldn’t stand her. He hated how she had so much power over him that he would do anything, as she made him rethink his view of his own abilities. He knew himself. He reminded himself again that the only thing that matters is what he thinks about himself.

Days turned into weeks, and then into months. He did feel like he was improving on his drumming, just nothing else. He couldn’t eat or sleep; his mind was always occupied with her class. Every fiber of him was filled with hate towards her, but that was drowned by a whole other feeling, a desperate urge that he craved more than anything in his life. He realized he needed Alice’s praise. Her validation. It didn’t matter what he thought of himself; it just mattered what Alice thought of him.

Andrew felt like he was going crazy. Maybe it was because he didn’t get it from his parents enough, but he couldn’t explain it; he had never felt this way before about someone. He spent more and more of his night’s crying into his pillow, desperate to get rid of his undying ache for her. How could he hate someone so much and need her at the same time?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up, tired of crying, and put on his dress shirt, jacket, and shoes quickly. He didn’t care if it was Saturday; he didn’t care if it was 11 p.m.; he needed to see her.

He knew that woman didn’t sleep; she would be there. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but it didn’t matter. He closed the door to his dorm and strode over to her class, wiping his eyes with his sleeve quickly. He ignored the cold and dark outside hitting him; the only thought was his aching.

After a short trip to her class, he threw open the heavy door, marching over to her side office, and just as expected, Alice was there at her desk, paperwork on the table, and a coffee next to her. Her eyes shot up at him in a questioning manner at his sudden burst into her office at this hour. Before she could argue, she stopped herself and looked at him. He looked like a mess, his clothes messy and his eyes red and pricked with tears, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, staring down at her with a desperate expression.

“Miss…”

He said, between breaths, and tears were threatening to fall down his face. Alice stood up, her expression turning into utter confusion as she came around her desk and stood in front of him.

"What's wrong with you, boy?”

She asked, searching his face for any indication of an answer and having to look up a bit at him due to the height difference. Before Andrew could even think about it, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and stuffing his face in her chest like a child. A choked sob was heard muffled from him in her chest. He wasn’t going to let go. Alice was utterly bewildered at this. How had she been able to push someone to this point? Especially Andrew, for that matter. With hesitation, Alice sighed and slowly brought one of her hands to his hair and her other to his back, making a desperate noise escape Andrew as he held tighter. He didn’t care about his dignity anymore; he just wanted Alice. His protector.

Nothing was said for a moment before Andrew slipped down to his knees, his grip on her still tight as he pressed his face into her waist, looking up at her with his red and wet eyes, making small hums and whimpers under his breath at his ache finally starting to soothe.

Though it was stern, Alice's face even gave away a slight blush as she held his hair in her hand and her breath hitched slightly at his closeness to her waist.

He took in her expensive scent, his cheek slightly feeling her cold belt buckle as he pressed against her on his knees. Never in this life had he felt so desperate or so excited from the moment. He started to breathe her in deeply, calming himself down as his hands started to travel from her back to her thighs, making Alice jump slightly. She gripped his hair, making him look up at her sternly, trying to regain any control over the situation she could.

"Speak, Neiman, what is the meaning of this?”

She said it in an authoritative voice. Andrew groaned as she gripped his hair tightly, his eyes lidded as he looked up at her. He didn’t care if she acted upset at him; if she actually was, she would’ve already gotten him off of her. But she didn't; he was still right here, and she was with him.

“Miss, praise me, please. Anything. Just tell me how to please you, and I will."

He babbled almost incoherently to her, her hands on her thighs gripping harder. Alice’s eyes widened for a moment at this revelation, and she couldn’t help but feel something inside of her fill with that feeling she had craved for a long time. A small breath escaped her, her stern expression starting to crumble. Andrew noticed this and immediately became excited, pulling back to press his face against her waist and his hands coming up to grab and massage her, his hands slowly kneading and groping her just like he always had dreamed of doing to her.

Alice was turning into a mess by the second, desperately trying to keep that professionalism, but she wasn’t used to this, not at all; no one had needed her this badly. And she didn’t hate it—not at all; it felt quite good, actually. She wasn’t sure what to do besides just let him, making eye contact with him, his desperate hooded and red eyes looking up at her, his tears stopping a while ago.

He saw her pleasure and immediately used it as a way to earn his praise. He wanted to please her so much—much more than just as his music teacher. His face trailed down, him kissing her over the fabric of her thin pants, making Alice gasp and take a step back, but unsuccessfully getting away because of Andrew pulling at her harder. Alice gave a grunt at him, Andrew continuing to kiss her desperately like a starved dog, and bit back any further noises at her sensitivity.

“Andrew”

She said it sternly, trying to keep her authority and control over the situation, but her warning fell on deaf ears. Andrew's hands are now coming to her belt, pulling at it as he kisses her. On one hand, Alice knew she should stop him, but on the other, she’s never felt this aroused before in her life. And Andrew knew this, a slight grin on his face as he started to see her giving in to her desires. Her firm grip on his hair started to slightly loosen, and Andrew took this as a chance to quickly pull down her pants, kissing over her underwear and the inner corners of her bare thighs.

Alice’s legs were starting to twitch at this point, threatening to give out on her as she sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. Andrew couldn’t wait; he seized his actions, standing and grabbing her hips, easily moving her onto the desk and towering over her. He pulled off her pants and held her legs, pulling them up and over his shoulders, giving her an almost predatory look. She realized in this moment how much power she actually didn’t have, and that thought excited her a bit more. He bent down to kiss her legs more, his hands running up and down the smoothness of them as he took his time, Alice leaning back on the desk with her hands gripping the edge for support. Andrew looked down at her for a moment, taking the sight of her in. The papers and coffee slipped their minds for now; it was unimportant right now; the only thing on their minds was each other.

He kept slightly tasting her, taking her time to lick, kiss, and nibble on her thighs, tightly holding them so she wouldn’t move. Soft groans and moans of satisfaction left his lips mixed with the sounds of Alice’s sharp breaths, her giving up on holding them back. He wanted more of her—so much more. His fingers slipped to the straps of her underwear, and he began to slip them off, his breath catching in his throat. The thought of him being the only one to see her was enough to drive him crazy alone. But this wasn’t about him; it was about her.

All Alice could do was lean back and watch him, her body almost overwhelmingly hot to the touch. Andrew wanted to tease her first, taking his sweet time to taste the soft flesh of her thighs, which earned a growl from Alice.

"God, Andrew, you really know how to get on my nerves."

She said it lowly to him, which caused him to give a chuckle against her skin.

“Not the right tempo?”

Andrew asked with a grin, and before she could answer, he brought his face down between her legs, firmly holding them open, shutting her up. Alice couldn’t feel mad, not when Andrew was pleasuring her like this. The sensation was almost overwhelming as a sharp moan tore from her, making Andrew moan himself in response to her wet flesh. She tasted better than he imagined, and he imagined more than she could ever believe. He just wished she would’ve let him do it sooner; whenever she yelled at him, it seemed to fix everything.

Alice held on to the desk like her life depended on it, each loud moan she made making her wonder about the possibilities of being caught, but every time she would try to think about it, she was brought right back to Andrew, pleasuring her.

Andrew knew what he was doing; hell, he had even studied before he came over, watching different techniques in porn and even going as far as to research the woman’s anatomy. He wanted it to be perfect for her; she wouldn’t have it any other way. And to Andrew, it was perfect. Every moan and gasp that she has made everything in his life all worth it for this moment right here with Alice

She was making an absolute mess on her desk, which he would happily clean afterwards. But for now, he wanted more—so much more of her. He brought two fingers up to her, pressing and entering her with ease, his greedy mouth working as well. This made Alice loose herself almost completely, her back arching and her squirming at the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Andrew was more than prepared, one hand busy fucking her and the other pushing down on her lower stomach, both to hold her in place and to add to the pleasure. He was used to multitasking. Drumming was so much more useful than he ever thought.

Andrew looked up at her almost the entire time, wanting to remember every expression and noise that she made from him. His tongue relentlessly flicked back and forth, tasting her as he fucked her with his fingers rhythmically at a fast pace, trying to send her over the edge. He could tell she was getting close because her moans turned into desperate whines.

“Andrew…please…don’t…I’m-“

She pleaded, only making Andrew push harder into her. He wasn’t about to take any of her pleasure from her; Andrew himself needed this. He wanted her to stop yelling at him and start yelling for him. She created the most beautiful music for him, something he would never forget.

Her orgasm hit her like whiplash. Waves of pleasure flowed through her arched and sweaty body as Andrew guided her through it, making sure she got every ounce of pleasure she could from it. His hand moved gently out of her, making Alice groan in the absence of him, which he made up for by massaging her body softly and bringing his face up to kiss her stomach.

After her climax ended, she relaxed, leaning her head back on her desk, closing her eyes, and breathing deeply, recovering. For a moment, they didn’t speak; they just enjoyed it. Alice leaned up to look at him, thinking about what they had just done.

“Andre-“

He cut her off, gently pushing her back down and moving to open her drawer, pulling out something to clean her with. He softly smiled, handling her with care. Alice didn’t speak; her face was a bit flushed, and she secretly thought that it was very cute and sweet of him. But she wasn’t about to admit that—not right now, at least. Instead, she cleared her throat and spoke softly, her voice a bit raspy, which delighted Andrew.

“Have you gone through my drawers before?”

She said it lightheartedly, which earned him a chuckle.

“Maybe once or twice.”

He responded, finishing cleaning her and her desk before grabbing her underwear and pants and delicately putting them on her like she was a doll. She nodded, grinned at the answer, and let out a breath at the sensation of her clothes coming back. Andrew gave her a kiss on the cheek before picking and standing her up. The realization of her work and coffee came to him as his face turned into worry and pleading.

"Oh, Miss, I am so sorry."

He said before she placed a hand on his cheek, looking at him with her usual sharp expression which prevented him from saying more.

“They weren’t important.”

She said as she felt his smooth cheek with her thumb. Andrew was completely smitten by this, closing his eyes and sighing in relaxation. She kissed his cheek, making him snap open his eyes in disbelief, blood rushing to his cheeks. That’s all it took. After all of that, her kissing his cheek made him blush. God, he was crazy for her. She backed away from him, giving him a last pat on the cheek, her eyes looking into his almost intimately.

“Get some sleep, Andrew; you need it.”

She said this before leaving, leaving Andrew with a lovesick smile on his face. He knew she cared.

Things would be very different between them now, and for once in his life, he knew what he wanted.

#andrew neiman #whiplash x reader #whiplash #smut #andrew neiman x reader #andrew neiman x reader smut

[msbarrybeeson]

Never Got the Chance (Whiplash X Reader)

A/N: This is an alternate universe of the snails being humans. I decided not to use human identities here, because with so many unfamiliar names, I know it will be confusing. Constructive criticism is appreciated and enjoy!

Requested By: @musicin-thetreetops​ (Thank you for your request!)

Summary: Whiplash revealed to his friends who the girl was in his picture book.

Universe: Human A.U. where the F.A.S.T crew are college students with a hobby or passion in racing.

Reader: Mentioned only. Feminine pronouns are used.

Genre: Humor to Angst

Warnings: Parents not caring about their child’s interests.

Word Count: ~720

~

“You sure we can take these?”

Boxes stacked on top of another in Whiplash’s apartment. They surely took him for the organized type, not because of the obvious sight in front of them, but also how strict he was.

Whiplash kicked a heavy box. “Take what you can. Not like I use ‘em.”

Burn dug through some of the items and took out a circular container. “Ooh, this smells good—.”

“Except those!” 

Whiplash snatched the lotion and closed the box flaps. Chet raised an eyebrow. “So.. you’re not going to explain why you apparently have a box of lavender lotions just lying around?”

The leader glared. “Oh, so now you’re prying into other people’s business?”

“I mean, he’s always been like that, Whip,” Turbo defended. “You don’t remember the time he did a security check through our backpacks when we came to visit him?”

“It’s giving Disney for some reason,” White Shadow hummed. Chet sighed.

“Well,” Whiplash coughed, “I just want to clarify that these sweet lavender lotions ain’t mine. They’re.. gifts for someone else! Yeah.”

“Sheesh, if you say so.”

“Ooooh!” Everyone turned to Skidmark. He picked up a book from a box and blew the dust off. “Aha! A picture book!”

White Shadow gasped. “Hey, why would you want to throw that away?!”

“H-Hold on a moment—!”

Too late, Skidmark lifted the hardcover. A photo of young Whiplash and his parents was found first. “Hey hey! This book must contain photos from Whip’s history at his winery!”

Smoove Move leaned over Skidmark’s shoulder. “Whooo, that’s some sweet place you got there, Whip. Surprised you even left it.”

“Is this a means to say that you would leave racing to be pampered spoiled?”

Smoove Move’s face fell. “...Nevermind.”

“Ohoho,” Burn cooed, pointing to one of Whiplash’s youth portraits. “Look at how adorable he is here.”

Agreement rustled among everyone as they scanned through the album. With their attention plastered on it, Whiplash couldn’t do anything, nor reach the book.

Until Turbo pointed out one photo in particular.

“Hey, who’s this?”

“Turbo, there’s only two other people in my family, and that’s my parents. Who else could it be—.”

“The girl in a prom dress,” Burn described. “She got (type) (color) hair and (color) eyes.”

“Y’know, she looks around your age, too—.” Skidmark was interrupted when the picture book disappeared from his hands. Everyone’s head turned to their leader, instantly snapping the book close.

“You good, Whip?” Smoove Move asked.

Whiplash did not respond. His back was turned to them. Instead, he opened the album back to the previous page they’d seen. 

“We knew about your past at the winery,” Turbo stepped closer, “but you never told us about a girl being in the picture— pun unintended.”

The leader sighed. “...She was an old friend.”

“More than ‘friend’ if you ask me,” Smoove Move remarked. “You guys even went to your high school prom together.”

“All right, fine! She was my girlfriend.” The man felt a rush of blood through his ears.

“Was? So she broke up with you?”

“...More like I broke up with her.”

White Shadow winced. “She wasn’t toxic, was she?”

“Hell no! Why are you guys so quick to judge?!” Whiplash pinched his nose bridge. He turned to face the crew. “(Name)’s one of the most understanding people you’ve ever met. She knew how much I despise being the next mascot of the winery.

But my parents? God, they would always get in the way. Saying things like how she wasn’t as rich as my family, or how she’d be a bad influence to me.

Hell, I had to cut things off before they tried threatening her family!” Whiplash slammed the book close, the sound resonating in his apartment. It was followed by silence.. until his anger melted into regret. “I never got to ask her where I’d be able to find her again.”

“Dang,” Burn slumped. “Those parents of yours....”

Smoove Move nodded. “For. Real.”

“We could have been able to meet her too.” White Shadow wiped a tear from his eyes.

“Whip.” Turbo frowned. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t give up hope though, there’s probably a chance we can find her using the photo and her name—.”

“Hey Whiplash?” Skidmark asked from three meters away, while scrolling through his laptop. “Any chance your (Name) is named (Name) (Surname)?”

~

Implication of Skidmark being part of the Secret Society.

#whiplash #whiplash x reader #turbo #turbo fast #turbo fast fanfiction #whiplash snail #reader insert #reader imagine #reader #fanfiction

[lokis-army-77]

I think this Andrew Nieman smut I an writing is the best/worst smut I have written.

#miles teller x reader #miles teller smut #andrew neiman #andrew nieman smut #andrew nieman x reader #miles teller #whiplash x reader #smut

[chiroptophobiawrites]

lowkey trying to read x readers for certain batfam members is such an experience cause the ‘top’ side of the tag has the same 10 fics, but then the ‘latest’ side has random naked people, batmom/batsis reader, or like shared batfam reader and im just like 🤕.

Please i don’t wanna be his mamma or his sister or be with the whole fam bro, what is going on here.

#with all due respect to the writers ofc #like that’s for someone #but just not for me #plus i always get whiplash when i read something under a characters tag on a certain blog and then i scroll and the next one is like batsis #like tbh i respect the duality #but also jumpscare #like wasn’t we dating all but 2 seconds ago? #now we siblings?? #oh nah #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #duke thomas x reader #bruce wayne x reader

[grimesgirll]

somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.

it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.

after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.

the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.

it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.

rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.

you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.

from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.

the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.

all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.

daryl teases his friend about it.

“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”

daryl’s a hypocrite however.

even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.

it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.

the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.

then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.

you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.

pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.

“daryl!”

you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.

complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.

your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.

“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.

“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.

“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.

you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.

blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.

they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.

“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.

you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.

daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;

“rick, faster, please.”

“what was that?”

“please - faster, can you please?”

the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”

you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.

back onto daryl you go.

those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.

so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.

one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.

“rick,” you mumble against his lips.

“you gettin’ close, angel?”

“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”

“that’s where you guys went?”

your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.

that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.

riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.

rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.

meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.

a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.

shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.

nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.

in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?

you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.

“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”

you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.

“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”

“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.

as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.

“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.

spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”

right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.

as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.

once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.

“dare’,” you whine.

“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.

“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.

“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”

tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”

you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”

“so pretty when you come, baby.”

you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.

you could fall asleep right there. and you do.

it ends as it always does.

following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.

#the walking dead #rick grimes #daryl dixon #twd smut #rick grimes smut #daryl dixon smut #twd #twd imagine #twd rick #twd daryl #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader #rick x reader #rick grimes imagine #daryl dixon imagine #rickyl #rickyl x reader #rickyl smut #not beta read #f/m/m #risky s!x #p in v sex #getting it on in the great outdoors #aftercare #norman reedus #andrew lincoln #are neutron star collisions hot? I took astronomy but I don’t remember - astronomers chime in down below #established relationship #sorry the sequencing literally gives me whiplash #grimesgirll

[spaciebabie]

you could say. i wasn't feeling too good today.

#fnaf sb #fnaf #security breach #five nights at freddy’s #fnaf moon #moon fnaf #moondrop #y/n #moon x y/n #moon x you #moon x reader #sorry ta hit ya w/whiplash after the last funny haha comic but #i needed some comfort #have the fruits of my labor. if you had a shitty day too my heart goes out ta ya #moon: shut the FUCK up n let me cuddle u #perfect. my kinda man #vent #perks of being an artist: draw a self insert getting cuddled when u need it irl #im goin ta bed lol #spacie scribbles

[eddiesghxst]

Hey i was the one who sent the ask about repeating stuff eddie says ❤ (imma start putting 🦊 as my tag if thats okay)

I know we're all back on the joe keerys hands train and it popped into my mind that his hands are so big, imagine if he made a bet that he could make you cum with one finger?or Giving you some hot lemsip/hot water and honey after throat fucking you into losing your voice

🦊

oh i need him desperately, that’s my bf.

he thinks it’s so funny. the fact that he fucked your throat so well that you can barely speak. and the thing is he asked you so many times if you wanted to slow down or take a break, but you’re so whiney and grabby when steve’s fucking you that he couldn’t even step an inch away before you were practically throwing a fit.

so now, you’re reaping the consequences of your brattiness. sat on the couch and pouting at steve when he places a hot cup of throat coat tea in front of you. you’re wriggling to press your body close to his when he sits next to you but steve’s shaking his head, “drink your tea, baby. before it gets cold.”

“i don’t want to drink tea steve.” you try to say, but it comes out sounding more like a sink disposal and your voice cracks and you absolutely butcher steve’s name and he’s such a shithead he laughs at you.

“s’not funny.” you whisper, since that seems to be the only level at which you can speak. and even then, you sound like you’ve been chain-smoking for thirty years.

steve cups your face and kisses your forehead, “you’re so cute.”

you frown at him and he reaches over to grab your tea and hand it to you, and even though you want to huff and turn away, you still take the warm mug. “finish this and we can cuddle, okay? i pinky promise.”

“pinky promise?” you groggily whisper.

steve nods and sticks out a pinky and you waste no time to slink your own pink around and curl it tight, both of you pressing a kiss to your fists to seal the plan.

you practically chug the tea, and steve’s worried at first but then he’s just happy you actually drink it so <3

#🦊 anon #going w steve instead of joe bc i get whiplash when i type any name other than steve or eddie🧍‍♀️ #don’t perceive me i’m growing #anyway #need him want him #sigh #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut

[gaypirate420]

Modern case of mass hysteria:

The Twilight fandom collectively pretending Jasper Hale isn't canonically a fucking confederate.

#the whiplash I felt on that scene though #'battle scars' me: in love #'it's what the CONFEDERATE army gave me' me: absolutely flabbergasted #the twilight saga #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper whitlock hale #yes I am delusional #i will never accept the true #friendship ended with canon Jasper fanon Jasper is my new best friend #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper hale x male reader #jasper hale x reader #effervescent

[oncasette]

could you write for taking care of andrew neiman when he's sick ? like he literally refuses to stop practicing even though he's feverish and coughing, so reader finally stops him and makes him lay down with her. maybe some cuddling/comfort?

"102.4," you say before you remove the thermometer from between his lips. there's a thick sheen of sweat coating his face and sticking his bangs to his forehead. you know some of it's from his drumming, having had to literally drag him off of his kit nearly an hour ago, but you also know most of it is from the fever coursing through his veins.

you don't think you'd ever seen your boyfriend looking so pitiful.

"that's... normal," he says, but he's so unconvincing you don't think he'd argue if you fought him on that fact.

he whines as you step away from him, hand coming up to reach out for you as you walk toward the linen closet to grab a wash rag. you run it under the faucet just enough to saturate the fabric before you bring it back to him to place over his forehead.

"do you want me to get you anything to drink?" you ask. he shakes his head, a wet cough rumbling out of his throat that he softly apologizes for after.

"i need to get back to work," he mumbles.

"drew, honey," you say. "you're sick."

"i know," he says. he looks over at where his drums are sitting in the corner of the living room and you force his gaze back on you.

"you know this is your body's way of telling you to take a break."

"i know," he groans. "but fletcher gave us new material this morning and i need to have it down by tomorrow."

"i will go down to that school and kick his ass if i have to. you need to rest," you say. he offers you a weak chuckle, dragging your body further into his by your hips.

"will you lay with me, at least?" he asks.

"of course."

#andrew neiman #andrew neiman x reader #whiplash #whiplash imagine #miles teller #miles teller x reader

[motomamita]

Whiplash

Based on the movie Whiplash (2014)

Pairing: Guitarist!Eddie Munson x Female!Guitarist!reader

Summary: (YN) puts Eddie's place in the music group at risk, so he decides to visit her at night and clear things up.

Warnings: Smut, +18, a looot of cursing and dirty talk, possesive Eddie, rough sex, hatefuck, unprotected sex, Fletcher is a warning himself, violents talks, idk.

Do not copy or translate, and sorry for my bad english. Muak.

Eddie entered the rehearsal room carrying his guitar case while trying not to bump into his classmates, reading the sheet music that Fletcher had given them days before.

He had been in the select group at the conservatory for 2 weeks and still felt nervous like the first time. After Fletcher fired his previous guitarist, Eddie was chosen from among many guitarists at the conservatory to take his place. He finally had an important position on the team and he wasn't going to let anyone take him away from there.

Everyone took their places and began to warm up their instruments, practicing individually without paying attention to the rest of their classmates. They stayed like that until Fletcher came into the room. The silence became absolute and the nervousness was present.

"We are weeks away from the presentation at the exhibition." Fletcher commented looking at his musicians who kept their eyes on the floor. "My reputation and that of the Conservatory depends on your performance there." He spoke seriously. "So if any of you, fucking shits, decide to make some mistake and ruin everything...! You'll just have to pick up your stuff and leave before I kill you with my own hands, okay?!" Fletcher's voice echoed throughout the place.

Neither Eddie nor the others dared to speak. They kept their eyes on the ground and their hearts pounding, not moving to avoid attracting Fletcher's attention and automatically becoming his next victim.

"OK?!" He repeated angrily.

"Yes sir!" They all responded in unison.

"Good very good." Fletcher sat down in his chair and everyone quickly get ready to play. "We start with Caravan."

The band began to play immediately, following the scores with their eyes to avoid mistakes that could harm them. Eddie fixed his gaze on his fingers on the strings as he bobbed his head rhythmically. He had already studied this song the night before to avoid mistakes so he knew it by heart from beginning to end. He didn't want to be the victim of Fletcher's fury, not again.

It took a few seconds until Fletcher waved his hands in the air asking them to stop immediately, which they did. A grimace of disgust settled on the man's face. Someone had made a mistake and Eddie prayed it wasn't him.

"Edward. What the fuck was that!?" It had been him. "Is smoking affecting your damn retarded chimpanzee brain?"

Fletcher yelled at him from his spot, placing his hands on his hips and still looking at him. Eddie lowered his gaze embarrassed and didn't say a word, anything he could say was going to complicate the situation even more.

"I think I'm going to have to hit your damn fingers with a hammer to get them to play ONE note right! Son of a bitch.."

Fletcher was interrupted by a knock on the door of the room. He walked to open the door, welcoming whoever was behind.

"Thank God you came! This idiot is ruining everything!" He exclaimed with a certain tone of calm in his voice. "Everyone, meet (YN). She'll be our lead guitarist."

Eddie looked up from the ground when he heard the name. His eyes connected with hers, his 'former fuck' and now 'new enemy'. He hadn't seen her since the last time they fucked, before they both entered the conservatory and had a fight over who was the best player.

"Thank you for considering me and giving me the opportunity to play with you." She smiled. That damn smile.

"You deserve it, sweetie. So take Munson's seat."

Eddie smiled, anger coursing through his body. Was this all an evil plan on Fletcher's part? Did he want to humiliate him even more?

"But... I'm the lead guitarist..." Eddie tried to defend his place.

"You're not anymore. Until you improve your technique and keep your mind on the scores and not thinking about whores and drugs." Fletcher responded harshly. "Now you are going to be in charge of turning the pages of (YN's) sheet music."

The girl walked to Eddie's seat, who reluctantly gave her his place and stood next to her. (YN) set up her guitar and took out her own folder of sheet music, extending it to Eddie.

"We're back again with Caravan." Fletcher informed, returning to his place in the room.

"You heard, place my pages on Caravan." (YN) murmured with a mocking smile to Eddie, who closed his fists trying to mitigate his anger and followed the girl's orders.

"And one, two and.. Three!"

Three loud knocks echoed on the door of (YN's) small apartment. The girl, who had just come out of the shower, put on a t-shirt that reached her thighs and ran to the door still with her hair wet.

When she opened she found Eddie Munson, who also didn't seem happy to see her again. Many times he had shown up at her door, months ago, with desire and need in his eyes and then fucked her until dawn. Now, his gaze expressed pure annoyance and it was more likely that he wanted to finish her off before making her finish.

"Why? Uh? Why the hell do you want to sabotage me?" He asked placing his hand on the door frame, preventing her from closing it.

"I didn't sabotage you, you just did." She explained calmly. "It's not my fault I'm better than you." She smiled cynically.

"No! You're not better than me and you know it. It's all a damn plan to drive me crazy and push me over the edge, right?" Eddie raised his voice upset.

(YN) sighed and grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket, making him enter the apartment before the neighbors complained about the noise.

"You're really paranoid if you think I'm doing all this for you. I made the team on my own merit, I'm not part of any 'evil plan' to make you suffer, as much as I'd like to see that." She explained, taking a few steps forward to stay close to him.

"Did you fuck Fletcher?" Eddie asked quietly as he looked into her eyes.

"What?" She asked after a few seconds confused.

"You did it, right? All so you could steal my place on the team." He asked again, now more confident.

"No, I never did." She shook her head, still looking into his eyes. "But I might try, if that makes you even more jealous." She murmured mischievously after a few seconds.

Neither of them moved for the first few seconds. The street lights entered through the windows of the apartment, leaving little visibility and turning them into shadows for the outside gaze. The ticking of the clock resonated almost at the same tempo as the rapid heartbeats of both, creating a melody as dangerous as it was captivating.

Eddie couldn't contain himself any longer and launched himself at her, placing one of his hands behind her neck and pulling her towards him, kissing her desperately. (YN) did not refuse and received him gladly, hugging him by the shoulders and pressing her body even closer to his. The kiss became more violent, showing that there was not only desire there but also a great amount of hatred in both of them. Without separating, they moved to the couch where (YN) collided with him, becoming cornered between it and Eddie.

"Damn whore, trying to steal my place..." Eddie murmured against her lips while one of his hands moved up her thighs until he reached her core. "And you're not wearing panties... It seems like you were waiting for me to arrive and find you like this..." He growled and one of his fingers began to make circular movements on her clitoris. Her legs trembled at the sudden stimulus, closing her thighs instinctively.

"I wasn't waiting for you, but for Fletcher.." she joked, enjoying Eddie's jealous look.

In one quick movement Eddie turned her and placed her face down, with her abdomen over the back of the couch. One of his hands grabbed hers and her t-shirt, leaving her bare from the waist down. (YN) let out a moan at that, getting even wetter from Eddie's mini aggressions. He knelt, still holding her hands, and brought his head to her center.

"You smell as exquisite as always.." He spoke and then took his mouth and began to lick her folds with need. She moaned loudly, rolling her eyes back as the tip of Eddie's tongue found her clit. "My pussy, this is my fucking pussy.." he growled, tasting all the wetness of her.

"Eddie! Shit..!" She moaned desperately at the wave of pleasure he was giving her with just his mouth. The neighbors were definitely aware of what was happening.

He abruptly separated from her center, uncomfortable by the boner that formed inside his pants. He clumsily pulled down his pants along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock whose tip was glistening from the accumulation of precum.

"Shit.." He mumbled at the sight, not at all surprised at the effect (YN) had on her. "You make me so fucking hard.."

With his free hand he brought his cock up to her wet hole. Eddie released a trickle of saliva, trying to make the stretch not so painful for her, and spread it with the tip of his cock over her folds. (YN) bit her lower lip, eager to feel him inside her after several months.

In a slow but confident movement, he entered inside her making sure not to leave any centimeters out. They both moaned at the sensation and didn't move for a few seconds, enjoying the feeling. Progressively, Eddie couldn't hold on any longer and began to move at a normal pace, grunting like an animal.

"God, I hate you so much but this pussy is so wonderful.." He spoke between moans, admiring how his cock entered and left her with ease thanks to the wetness of both of them.

"Well, I hate you, you and your big fat cock.."

Eddie stopped dead when he heard her and in an unexpected movement he released her hands and grabbed her neck, bringing her back to his chest. Without warning he fucked her again, only this time with a rougher and more hateful rhythm. For (YN) it became impossible to hide her moans, the pleasure was absolute and did not seem to end.

"Moan, moan for me. Let everyone know that you will always be my fucking whore.." Eddie laughed as he heard pure moans coming from her mouth.

His balls rhythmically slapped against her clit, bringing sparks of pleasure to both of them. Her hands went to Eddie's arm that was holding her neck, noticing that out of desperation Eddie was still wearing his pants at the height of his ankles.

"Eddie..! Please..!" From the tone of her voice, he knew that she was ready to cum and it wouldn't be long until he did too.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.." Eddie repeated to the rhythm of each hard thrust, feeling her walls hug him as she cums.

(YN)'s legs shook but that didn't seem to matter to Eddie at all, who continued fucking her through her orgasm until he felt she was close. He brought his mouth to her neck, biting lightly as he stifled a moan of pleasure. After a few seconds he ended up inside her, without noticing that due to the force of his bite he had left a mark on her neck.

Slowly Eddie pulled out of her, letting some of his cum fall down her thighs and stain the floor. (YN) had to hold on to the couch to avoid falling to the floor because of how weak her legs felt. Eddie noticed and held her for a few seconds to make sure she was okay. Then, he pulled up his boxers and pants and acted as if nothing had happened, although his red cheeks and messy hair showed otherwise.

Neither of them said anything, there was no need to do so either. (YN) watched as Eddie walked to the exit but turned around before leaving.

"This doesn't end here. Soon I will regain my place on the team and you will be my whore inside the conservatory too."

Then, he left the apartment.

#eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #whiplash #guitarist!reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn

[wannaeatramyeon]

Samuel Seo x Reader: Thankful

G/N. Sammy spiralling and soft.

Deep down, Samuel knows that it's not on you to cater to his ego. It's not on you to fix him.

To lift him up when he spirals and plummets. When the fragile thread of his sanity loosens and he nosedives.

Yet he still looks to you. Reaches out, clings on. Using you as his anchor and his beacon, praying that his demons doesn't get to you too.

Doesn't understand the things you see in him, why you want to be with him. How could you, when he doesn't even like himself.

You give him a million reasons. You push through your lips quivering and eyes watering. You smile and plead for him to see what you do.

But how can you compare a king to you? Someone that holds his universe in the palm of their hands?

How can he ask you to settle for being his queen when you are his heaven and beyond?

Samuel is pathetically thankful, grateful during his better moments. Words he can never express, feelings he doesn't want to admit.

But he tries to show you in other ways.

Your fingers trace over his tattoos.

There's a new addition.

Samuel doesn't think too much of it. His body is covered. What's a few more lines on his tapestry?

He should hate how sentimental this is, how he has marked himself with someone else.

But no matter what happens-

If by chance fate has something cruel in store. If you realise that he is only speaking the truth of his worthlessness-

He can never forget you. Never forget the way you make him feel.

So he keeps you there. Your name. A permanent mark.

On his skin and over his heart.

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism fic #lookism x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #wannaeatramyeon #this is whiplash from my crack fic #this dynamic is not healthy btw #please avoid getting partners names tattooed on #but its your body do what you want

[thesandwichdaddy]

Drumsticks

{Andrew/Rebecca-Whiplash}

(TW: substance use, smoking)

This is not proofread at all 😭. Rebecca is an original character. I will make more parts to this. Not really proud of this but ily 🫶🏻

3.2k words

Rebecca’s first week at Shaffer was really disappointing to her. Still, though it wasn’t the best, she appreciated the small gym and tennis court they had. It seemed like there was no one who went to Shaffer, all the students being quiet and distant.

She did manage to make a friend, though, a small preppy girl at the tennis court who just hit the ball against the net by herself. So, Becca, being the nice person she was, offered to be her partner and even her friend. The girl was thrilled, and so they often played tennis together when Becca wasn’t drumming away, with Fletcher giving a new piece every week.

It was hard to keep up with, but she managed. She didn’t let the class consume her mind, not like Andrew. Andrew was quite the character for Becca. A tall, awkward boy who would die to be core drums was a constant battle for Becca. At first, they were too awkward to even talk or complain about who was playing that day. It was painfully awkward for Becca.

The first day Andrew was moved into Becca’s music class, afterwards Becca swore he had been following her a bit. She felt his eyes on her, glaring as she left for her dorm. Then, once she was on the tennis court with her friend, she noticed him walking past, his eyes meeting hers, and then quickly looking away.

A few weeks later, the arguments between her and Neiman became frequent. They were almost like children fighting over whose turn it was and who could get the attention of Fletcher more.

“What did I tell you about adjusting my goddamn seat?” Andrew said with a scowl, leaning down to push down the seat to the drums as they set up for the day. “It’s not my fault you're huge, dude. I can't even see past the drums when it’s like that."She retorted as she set her water bottle down next to her, sitting in the seat beside the music stand. “I’m not huge; you’re just small. And weak,” Andrew said as he sat, not bothering to give her a glance. Becca shook her head a bit, annoyed, as she just ignored him, grumbling under her breath. “And it isn’t your seat..." Andrew ignored it, practicing as he tried to drown out her presence beside him.

Most days were like this: constant bickering and insults being thrown left and right. But one particular day, it became worse—way worse. Fletcher made the decision to make Becca the core drummer, thus giving her the spot to perform at their upcoming concert. She was happy about this and pleasantly surprised. But not Andrew. His eyes burned holes into Becca as he glared her down. It was the breaking point for him. How could she just steal his place that he worked so hard for just like that? He despised her nonchalant attitude about it as well. She didn’t know how badly he wanted—no—needed to play. This was his life, his everything.

As Becca walked out of class, Andrew was quick to rush over, walking with her. “What the fuck was that?? What did you do??” He immediately questioned her, which earned a confused look from Becca as she kept walking. “What do you mean, ‘what did I do’? I fucking earned that spot; that’s what I did.” She retorted, not in the mood for his fits. Andrew harshly grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to stop and look at him. “You had to have done something. He wouldn’t just replace me like that,” he said, his brows furrowed as he looked down at her. He was breathing hard and really worked up about this. Becca looked at him in disbelief, giving a slightly amused smile at this. “You sound crazy, Andrew. Just accept that I’m better than you.” She said, his large hand still on her shoulder, holding on tightly. This made Andrew even more pissed, his jaw tensing. “You’re not better than me. You know what? I bet you fucking opened your legs for him, didn’t you?” He said it harshly at her. Really, Andrew didn’t mean it, but he was too mad to stop himself now. Becca looked at him in disbelief, beyond anger, as she shoved his arm off her. “You are disgusting, Andrew.” She growled, going to walk again, but was stopped by Andrew once again turning her around, now with both of his hands tightly on her shoulders. “You haven’t earned shit, have you? You slut—“He was cut off by a harsh slap from Becca, making him back off and hold his face in slight shock from it. Becca looked at him in disbelief and anger. “Fuck you, Andrew.” She said that before going to leave, Andrew was just watching. The slap hurt, but in the best way possible for Andrew. He caught his breath. He didn’t actually mean what he said, but that slap was definitely deserved. For some reason, his focus now wasn’t so much on the drums as on Becca. He sighed, his face red from both the slap and his feelings. He had really messed himself up this time.

——

It was weird after that—quiet. Andrew didn’t talk to Becca, and she didn’t talk to him either. She played and practiced while Andrew turned her pages. It would feel rewarding for her if she hadn’t felt bad about him not playing. She had to admit that it got to her.

Andrew was caught in his feelings, confused. While a big part of him was dealing with the disappointment of not playing, the other part couldn’t stop thinking about Becca. It wasn’t just envy this time; this was a crush. He scowled at that thought. How childish of him to have a crush, he thought. Now that he thought about it, the last crush he had was in high school, but even then, it was nothing more than the usual teenage boy hormones. This was different; this felt real. Too real. He was a mess.

——

Becca was slacking. Her drumming became sloppy as her mind was ridden with the guilt of taking Andrew's place. He was a much better drummer; she knew that. Was this what she wanted? She didn’t think so. So here she was, standing outside of Fletcher’s office after class with her sticks in her hand, mentally preparing herself to talk to him.

She gave a soft knock, wincing as she did. She started to think that he didn’t hear until she heard a deep voice boom on the other side. “Come in.” And she did, nervously closing the door behind her. Fletcher looked at her with intrigue; his brows furrowed as he gestured for her to sit. Becca took a seat on the other side of his desk and took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure how he’d take this, but she hoped it wouldn’t be too bad. “Mr. Fletcher, I was hoping you would reconsider who’s on the core drums for the concert.” She said, ripping off the bandaid and being straight forward. Fletcher put down whatever papers he was looking at and crossed his arms, leaning back as he looked at her and thought to himself.

“So did you feel bad about your boyfriend, or are you just pussying out?” Fletcher asked, obviously not pleased. Becca slightly winced at his answer, half expecting it. She ignored the boyfriend's comments at this point, being used to them. "No, uh," she sighed, not knowing how to put it. She sort of did feel bad for her boyfriend—no, Andrew. Becca looked at Fletcher, thinking. He waited with an impatient look on his face. Becca continued, “I think Andrew deserves this more than I do.” She said finally, earning an interested look from Fletcher. It was hard to decipher his emotions most of the time. It was odd to see him so interested, though. Becca was prepared for worse. It was almost like he had expected this, oddly enough.

——

As promised, Andrew got the core drums again. When Fletcher said he had just changed his mind and wanted Andrew back, he looked to Fletcher with shock, feeling like he had found purpose again. Becca was thankful that Fletcher didn’t say anything about their talk. Andrew glanced at her briefly as the news was told, trying to get a read on her emotions. But he was met with nothing but a neutral expression on Becca’s face. He assumed she would be upset. Or maybe she was, but she was good at hiding it? Now he felt a bit bad. Just a little thought, it was nice to finally get a distraction from his feelings now that he had something to work on. Why was she so quiet? Did she hate him? Still, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her.

——

Andrew was going insane. The concert was tomorrow, and he couldn’t focus on anything. Andrew was pretty sure he was having a panic attack, and it was nearly in the middle of the night. He hated when these would happen. He was overwhelmed and more stressed than Elvis Presley. There was so much to think about—too much to think about. His mind didn’t stop, tormenting him with thoughts of the concert, his family, and Becca.

Andrew had to do something. He was pacing around his dorm like a tiger in a cage, his anxiety gnawing at him underneath his skin. He needed someone, his mom—god no, a friend. There was only one person he could think of, and that was to see Becca. It was late, and he had no idea how she even felt about him, but he needed this feeling to go away. Andrew thought he was the biggest creep for this, but he knew what dorm she stayed in because he happened to watch her walk in. He also happened to know that she played tennis on the court right next to her dorm. And he also happened to know that every morning she got a cream cheese bagel for breakfast at the campus cafe. God, maybe he did have a problem. Andrew prayed that she wouldn’t be asleep as he quickly stepped out of his dorm, marching over to hers, which was a whole building away. It gave Andrew time to think as he felt the warm air against his face. He was walking way too fast for anyone to think he was just taking a casual walk. His breaths were short and his chest felt tight as he walked, eventually making it to her dorm, where he repeated the door number a million times on the way there so he wouldn’t forget.

Andrew gave a knock, softer than a pounding but loud enough to come off urgent. Despite his prayers, Becca answered, obviously just having woken up. Her hair was so beautifully messy, and a baggy t-shirt almost covered the shorts she wore underneath it. He wondered if he had a shirt that size; maybe she needed one of his—he needed to stop. Becca looked at him with surprise, rubbing her eye a bit as she held the door open. “Andrew?” She asked, her voice a bit groggy. “Becca,” he said, looking at her as he breathed hard, trying to get out his words. “Please, can I come in?” He asked with a bit of desperation in his voice.

Becca knew something was off with Andrew, and she was worried. She nodded, opening the door as he came in, and she shut the door, looking at him. Andrew quickly looked around and then turned to her. His voice panicked as he started to feel that anxiety again. "Becca, I’m freaking out about tomorrow.” He said, his voice shaking a bit as he swallowed. It was mostly true, just that he left out the part where he also couldn’t stop thinking about her. Becca gave a slightly thoughtful look, still a bit surprised that he was here. The question of how he knew where she stayed didn’t seem to cross her mind just yet. She saw his desperation, feeling a bit sorry for him as she spoke. “You’re having a panic attack?” She asked, which Andrew thought about for a moment. “Yes.” He said it softly, his hands shaking. Becca motioned for him to sit next to her on the couch, and he did, looking forward as he focused on his shaky breath. As Becca woke up a bit more, she glanced at the clock across the room, which was reading 1:15 AM. This had to be really bad for him to be over at this time.

Becca thought about what she should do. She was never good at words, and comforting Andrew seemed like the most difficult task at the moment. Andrew sat there quietly, trying not to look at her beside him because he knew once he did, he’d crumble and try to latch onto her. He didn’t want to do that just yet; he wanted to try to have some sort of self-control for once in his life. With a sigh, Becca finally moved across the room to grab a small metal box, bringing it over. Andrew glanced over with confusion at it, and she opened it. “Have you ever smoked before?” Becca asked, moving the small grinder out of the way to pick a blunt. Andrew looked at her a bit apprehensive, surprised she even had this. “N-No, why are..." He trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation. Andrew had always been a good boy, never finding the need for things like this. Maybe occasionally a drink, but he didn’t have a problem. “It helps me when I’m freaking out and can’t sleep.” She answered his question, looking at him. Her expression seemed much softer than before when she looked at him. She waited for him to verbally consent; she wasn’t going to pressure him into anything. She just wanted to help. He gave a nod, sitting up straight and looking at her. “Okay.”

——

So here he was, his lungs slightly burning and his pupils blown out as he lay next to Becca on her humongous couch. “Becca?” Andrew's groggy voice spoke as he turned his head to see her, breaking the long silence between them. Becca met his gaze, her eyes red and slightly lidded. “Yeah?” Andrew swallowed hard, his nerves calmed way more than they had earlier. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly, studying her face. “For saying that stuff to you, and for taking the core drums.” Becca turned on her side to look at him, her head propped against her arm. He really did mean it, and he needed to get it off of his chest. He wanted to fix things between them funnily enough. Becca bit back on the urge to tell him that it was her decision to get him on core drums again, but she decided it would be nicer if she didn’t. “It’s okay, Andrew; don’t even worry about it.” She spoke softly, her eyes tracing his jawline. Relief washed over him as he stared into her eyes, calm and high. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve kissed her over and over right there and run his hands over her skin for hours, but he didn’t. “You’re still in your clothes from this morning.” Becca said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. Andrew snapped out of his trance, barely hearing her. “Huh? Oh, yeah.” He said with a slight smile, looking down at his wrinkled dress shirt and slacks.

There was another silence between them as Andrew looked up at the ceiling, his breaths slowing as his body finally calmed. He was tired, not wanting to worry about anything at the moment. Becca was still observing him, moving her hand to brush his hair slightly out of his face. “You’ll do great tomorrow, Andrew; don’t stress.” She whispered to him, meaning it. Andrews jaw tensed, his breathing starting to become hard as he refused to look at her. One look, and he’d break into tears. He knew it. Becca noticed this, moving closer with a soft look on her face. “Andrew,” she whispered. He shook, a small, painful whimper escaping him as he finally took a breath after holding his breath to stay quiet, something he learned from his childhood. “Hey.” She said, reaching to touch his shoulder just before Andrew sat up sharply. “No.” He said, pained and surprisingly stern. Becca sat up, confused and worried. “What’s wrong, Andrew?” She asked, looking at him as he hunched over and shook slightly. He shook his head, refusing to let his tears fall as he silently panicked. This was the worst thing ever for him; he didn’t want to cry in front of anybody, especially Becca.

He couldn’t speak, his throat and lungs burning from both holding his breath and holding his tears. He ruined the moment. He ruined everything. He should just go. Becca was silent, standing once he did, and she tried approaching again just for Andrew to hold out a hand to stop her. “N-no, please don't..." He said, making it to the door. Becca was beyond confused; a million questions were going through her head. Did she do something wrong? “I’ll see you tomorrow, Becca.” He says, not wanting to face her as he leaves, closing the door. Becca was left silent, looking at the door. She was really worried.

——

Andrew made it to his dorm, immediately going to his bed as he covered his face, finally letting out the cry he needed. He felt pathetic. He hated comfort. He needed comfort. He wanted to stay away from Becca. He longed for Becca. He hated this. He hated his stupid parents and the stupid trauma that made him this way. He wanted so badly for Becca to forgive him and his ways.

He eventually fell asleep, his tear-stained face buried in the pillow that he tightly clutched. He just hoped he was ready tomorrow and that Becca didn’t hate him.

#whiplash #original character #whiplash x reader #andrew neiman x reader #andrew neiman

[eternadreeblissa]

Listen To Me

Yandere! TOTK! Link x Reader

Page 2 - Page 3

@neverchecking @wayfayrr

#can you tell this isn't my favorite page at all 🧍‍♀️ #page 1: scary gloom vibes #page 2: rainbows! soft! #the whiplash am I right JADVSYFVG #look Sage had the puppy eyes and the gloomy colors won't fit anymore after that 😭 #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere sage #yandere lu sage x reader #archivedart #yandere sage x reader #lu sage #Listen To Me

[aholeforalexturner]

god i love this man, his voice.

and i love his cock..-a doodledoo😄

#miles teller #whiplash #top gun rooster #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #pornstache #divergent #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #nbc snl #i love men #cockadoodledoo #🐔 #i’m drooling

[verysmolnerd]

You know what? Frik it!!! Some characters are getting booped!! By you!! 🐾🐾🐾

Otto Octavius:

He wasn’t expecting it one bit. He was hard at work and this attack came out of nowhere!

You had caught him overworking so many times, you’ve lost count at this point!

So, when it comes to dragging him away from the desk, you’ve gotten more creative.

There are times where you have lured him away by using your newlywed charm, and then there are times when it’s absolutely bonkers.

You’ve pulled him away with his spinny chair, you’ve even pulled it out from under him.

It gets a laugh out of him every time. Why? Because it shows him how much you care. When he loses track of time, you’re there to remind him.

He sometimes gets excited when he notices what time it is. Because it’s time for your mischief again.

You walked up to his chair and rested a hand on his broad shoulder.

“Hello, my dear. How are-“

You booped him right on his crooked nose. 🐾

What was once a look of adoration turned to one of shock. His eyes are wide and mouths agape; he couldn’t make heads or tails of it!

In fact, the piece of machinery that was in his hand fell to the table.

With the power of the boop, You powered off Otto. Cute and absolutely priceless.

Doc Ock:

How many times must he bolt the entrances down?! It seems like you’re always finding ways in here!!

He seems to close off one exit, and then he turns around to see you -his loving partner who’s more stubborn than they should be- arms open ready to embrace him.

You love him far too much, and he can’t take it at times. He’s no longer in control of his body, his free will is gone. He’s a slave to his own creation.

And yet.. you’re still there, for kisses, for comfort… it’s amazing, gobsmacking even. To have someone who will show him the light when he’s stuck in the darkest pits.

Regardless, he’s working nonstop: welding, wiring, or stealing; Doctor Octopus has been always working. Never resting.

He was placing another one of the components for his containment chamber when he heard a crashing noise.

He huffs when he sees that you had fallen out of the air vents. Scabs, dust, and dirt littered your face; but still a smile grazes your features.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you are quick to rise to your feet.

“For the last time. Get out-“

Boop attack!! 🐾🐾

The arms stop whatever they are doing and fall to the ground, limp.

They soon rise up and become docile for a brief moment. Chirping, nearing you.

And Otto? He’s in shock.

He looks at you with an aghast smile appearing on his face as you both discovered a way to fight the actuator’s influences.

The power of the boop. In the palm of your hand.

Maxim Horvath:

You were practicing alongside him. As per usual, he’s showing that tough love you’re so “ever” fond of.

It’s not like you hate training, it’s just that it gets tedious at times and there’s no banter between the two of you.

When you preform a spell correctly, you hear his huff of approval. Yep. That’s your indication.

When it’s time for a break you sit across from him in the fanciest chairs known to man. He has style, you’ll give him that.

He has a critical eye, reading a person is almost second nature to him. He’s been a live for a thousand years, after all.

Nothing seems to catch him off guard anymore, well, you don’t think anything ever did… until later in the evening.

It’s your turn to cook, despite his protests…. So when he took back the stove using magic, you weren’t surprised.

So, you had your own trick up your sleeve as you slowly approach him.

“Whatever you’re trying, I suggest you stop. It’s not going to work-“

Beep bap! Boop attack! 🐾🐾

You laugh at his shocked expression…. But then you start running when the furniture starts floating and is launched at you.

Snidley Whiplash:

With all the criminals piling into the bank, you would think that you’d be shaking in your boots… you’re not.

It’s Snidely and his hang you can see the top hat set atop his proud head as his incompetent criminals part like the sea.

“Give us your money and all of your gold.”

You roll your eyes despite the shouting you’re getting from your boss.

“Or what? You’ll drop an anvil on me?”

An array of clicks could be heard from all the pistols.

“Or we’ll shoot you!”

You can’t even count how many gun muzzles are pointed directly at your head.

Snidely looms over the counter, while you swat away your boss. Silently urging them to call the police. They run away, covering the ulterior motive by saying, “You’re on your own!”

“Hoo hoo,” you almost laugh from his stupid cackle. So you decide to lean forward, challenging him instead.

Snidely starts to lean back, unsure of what you’re planning.

“You think you can oppose, Snidely k Whiplash. Well, thing agai-“

You’ve been hit by🐾🐾 you’ve been struck by🐾🐾a boop criminal!

A blush adorns his face, as does the blinding police sirens outside.

He has heart eyes locked on you while he’s being pushed inside the squad car.

Hugh Weldon:

He had taken you star gazing. A common date, but a lovely one nonetheless.

You happily sit on the blanket while he excitedly tells you everything about the constellations he could see.

You felt like you could be his best student if you weren’t dating. Seeing him smile feels like your lifelong mission… and who are you to deny him of such happiness?

He had draped his coat over your shoulders, smiling with how it essentially swallowed you.

But now, you find that his ways of showing affection are short and sweet while dates are long and romantic. Cute.

He kissed you right before he went to view the stars, leaving you wanting more. So you swore for revenge.

So when he sat next to you, the trap was set.

When he opened his mouth, you got ready to strike.

“I think I saw the Orion constellation-“

He just triggered a boop attack!! 🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

He laughs and allows you to attack him with kisses as well.

You got him back, in the best way.

Comte de Reynaud:

The spring festival is in full swing, and you couldn’t help but notice that the Comte was watching from afar.

You don’t know why it s a shock to you considering that he’s there every single year after his wife left him.

He always looks so gloomy or cold and calculating. Always looking out for his people, never for himself.

Well, it’s about time someone looked out for him.

You made your way over to him, and you find that his demeanor is a tad bit different. He looks uplifting, like he had a sudden change of heart.

And you’re especially shocked when he asks, “May I have this dance?”

He’s not light on his feet, however, when the music slows…. That’s a different story.

He holds you like a man deeply in love and you couldn’t help, but wonder what caused this change.

When the songs softly decrescendo to an end, he pulls you closer.

“I believe that I-“ he stops himself.

Oh hell no! Boop for answers! 🐾🐾

His eyes flutter as he finishes his sentence, “I love you.”

That passionate look in his eyes was the last thing you saw before he claimed your lips…. And your heart.

Kostya:

The landowner makes frequent visits to your humble shop. You find that he does a lot of the manual work himself alongside others.

You know he likes you, by the way he gazes at you from across your shop. Some of the people who work here as well can see the adoration in his eyes. It’s as clear as day.

However, the shy landowner is famously known for holding his own words. Dying with his own verbal desires.

So, if you wanted anything to do with him, it would be on your own accord. You’d make the first move.

It seems like all the patrons are rooting for you as well, as you tap your fingers on your counter; thinking on what to do.

So when he enters the shop the same time he always does, you’re quick to accompany him; offering your help.

Rather than wanting anything, he takes the opportunity to talk to you. He’s very flustered when he admits it.

Honestly, he’s just a flustered mess to begin with.

“I’m sorry, I-“

Take that! Boop attack! 🐾🐾

His mouth is agape and it seems his flushed expression spread to you.

He quickly composes himself and asks you out on a date. That was his plan after all.

The boops brought him out of his shell.

Armand Gamache:

Reading together in the evenings is a common occurrence between you two.

You sit on his lap while he’s facing the fireplace. Three Pines is a cold and grueling place, but when you’re together, the freezing temperatures don’t appear to be all that bitter.

You’re cuddled right up next to him as he reads the page, pausing for you to read as well.

He had chosen another book about escapism. You’ve read so many with him that you don’t remember the names of the books, just the plot.

You don’t mind at all, you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything. Because normally, it ends up being a de-stressor for the both of you.

However, you were feeling a bit of mischief tonight. You’re always antsy when you’re plotting a scheme, he knows it all too well.

“What are you planning?”

And it was at that moment… he got booped. 🐾

He arches a brow, not sure what to make of this at first.

But then he marks the page he left off in and tightened his embrace on you. Peppering you with kisses until you couldn’t breathe.

Then he boops you as well, making you burst out in laughter.

It seems he has a few tricks of his sleeve as well.

#headcannons #fanfiction #fanfic #otto x reader #otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #doc ock #otto octavius #doctor octopus x reader #doctor octopus #comte de reynaud x reader #comte de reynaud #hugh weldon x reader #hugh weldon #maxim horvath x reader #maxim horvath #kostya #Snidely Whiplash #Snidely Whiplash x reader #konstantin dmitrievich levin #kostya x reader #armand gamache #Armand ganache x reader

[ikemenomegas]

wishing on every one that you'll be mine

Haku x Reader || Dandelions

a/n: with the song anon told me their name was from, it felt pretty easy to stick with a sort of aesthetic sense for this one. I've had the bullet points in my notes since I first got the ask and I'm very excited to have the time and energy to finish it this week! Haku was very popular at the start haha and it was fun to expand upon a sort of OC idea for them cw: haku working through the "i was raised to be a weapon" mindset, imaginary sunburns, omegaverse setting, alpha!reader

You collapsed onto the warm grass with a delighted huff, rolling between patches of shade and sun.

Haku looked down at you with amusement, putting his own pack down next to yours but stretching out beside you with no less enthusiasm.

The summer afternoon was already pressing down heavy and languid, threatening another light rain. With nowhere in particular to go, you could bend to the movements of nature. As midday had become hotter and rain had become more frequent, you and Haku had taken to waking while the dew was still wet and the morning still dark, moving on in whichever direction he chose, and finding a place to camp when it grew too hot.

But finding a place is not the only step to setting up camp. You pull yourself upright with a groan and Haku waves from the ground as you wander into the woods surrounding the little clearing you've dropped into.

You've more or less entirely embraced Haku's habit of wandering. It's remarkable how much freedom there is in living as a civilian with all the safety of knowing that you are probably one of the more dangerous things on the road. Haku had wanted to see the world and you had wanted to go with him, to be with him while he discovered world without purpose but to live how he wanted.

Ahead, you could see the brightness that signaled another break in the trees. Your eyes widened in delight and you rushed back to where you had left your traveling companion.

He was already rummaging around in the bags for something and the tent had been released from its sealing scroll.

You sighed inaudibly. Haku preferred to keep his hands busy, but this had as much to do with his feelings of worth being tied to his level of productivity as anything else.

"Haku."

"Hm?" He looked up at you, his wide dark eyes alight.

You cleared your throat. "Come see what I've found."

Haku immediately stood up, brushing his hands off. "What is it?"

You beckoned him over and were pleasantly surprised when he grabbed onto your hand. You retraced your steps.

With a sudden burst of inspiration, you told him to close his eyes, which he did with an amused expression.

You moved carefully, but even with his eyes closed he never stumbled and moved with sureness. You were glad his eyes were closed so he couldn't see the way you shifted uncomfortably your neck in your suddenly over-warm collar.

"Okay."

You stopped on the edge of the meadow.

Haku gasped a little. The first thing he saw was a field of gold and white.

He stepped slowly from the treeline, graceful as a dear and practiced in crushing as few of the fluffy yellow flower heads as possible. He cupped a cluster in his hands, feeling the leaves.

"These are so healthy," he said. You could hear the quiet delight in his voice. "Dandelions make wonderful tea and they're good to eat, and there's a lot of uses for medicines-"

You bit back a growl, you weren't upset at him, but sometimes he really could have a one track mind. He was meant to relax! Not everything in the world had to be looked at for its utility!

You bit back a smirk and hummed as you half circled Haku with your hands behind your back, catching just enough of his attention before charging out into the field and spinning around, carving a path through grass and sending parasol-headed seedlings whirling into the air.

"They're also beautiful and smell nice and are soft enough to lay on," you said, darting away further into the wide stretching meadow. Come on, please come with me.

Haku's eyes darted to the yellow flowers and then to the incredible expanse of them. With a quirk of his lips he was almost invisible and then he was right behind you.

You laughed, elated as you raced him to the top of a little hill not far away.

Petals and drifting seeds had landed in Haku's hair. Heaven just might be Haku leaning against your legs while you combed through his long, silky hair with your fingers, brushing dandelion fluff away and twisting the dark strands into loose braids.

Even when you were done, he didn't move and you almost wanted to hold your breath, scared to frighten him away like some small wild thing.

He skimmed his hand through the grass, letting it tickle his palms. He held up a full headed flower, perfectly round and white like a cloud. You blew on it and watched the seeds float away. You brushed away a few that didn't make it far.

The air was heady with the scent of the field and Haku's hyacinth scent mixed with yours, thick in the air as you sweated lightly in the early summer heat, a welcome breeze wicking moisture from your neck. You drew it deep into your lungs to savor the clean, green taste, purring faintly on each exhale. All you wished for was more moments like these.

As the sun sank westward, it would tinge the whole meadow golden, gilding the dandelion covered field.

You too were learning to do things without a set purpose. You looked down at Haku. To let beauty rest without request.

Haku was drowsing in the sun, eyes half open, his cheeks and lips tinged pink and a flush just visible where his collar had slipped. You looked somewhere else, anywhere else.

His voice was low and languid and hypnotizing. He could name the birds that darted across the sky and the unseen insects by their sounds. His sharp nose could detect the presence of other plants in the forest. When he fell quiet and his breath momentarily deepened, you could hear the far off sound of running water.

You felt yourself growing briefly drowsy too and leaned back on your hands, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

You came back to after Haku. The sun had not moved much but the embracing the brief lull in your energy had perked you up again.

"We could make dandelion wine," Haku said. Clearly he felt the same as you because his hands were trailing busily over the ground again. After a moment, he stood up and walked to a thicker clump of brush.

You watched as minutes passed and he worked his way along the outskirts of the meadow. Some seeds lazily drifted up after him, but before another quarter of an hour had gone, Haku had seated himself on the ground and started pawing about for flowers he deemed suitable.

He looked tranquil as always, but also vaguely like he was only doing this because he had to be doing something. The wind carried towards you a low, odd sound, almost between a whine and a growl, that stuck in you like a thorn. You weren't even sure he knew he was making it.

You shook away the last of the afternoon sleepiness and stood up, shaking dandelion seed from your clothing.

You were quick enough and Haku distracted enough for you to displace the pouch of plucked flowers from his lap and scoop him up into your arms before he could protest. You drew upon your alpha's strength and your training, pushing chakra through your limbs until Haku, tall though he was, felt as though he weight no more than a particularly oddly shaped sack of rice.

"What are you doing," Haku gasped, arms going around your neck.

You turned around. "You know what else you can do with dandelions?"

"What?!"

You picked up speed until you were running, clouds of fluff rising around the two of you as you discovered a part of the meadow where the stalks were higher and almost every single flower had gone to seed.

"Make a wish!" you shouted over the sounds of your own feet. Your heart was beating so very quickly.

"Why?"

"Make a wish!" You spun around, Haku was looking at you like you'd gone mad. "I wish to dance under a full moon. I wish to be light as air. I wish for a red cherry tree!"

Haku started laughing as you shouted into the sky.

"I wish to find sweetfish!" he joined in after a moment. "I wish to climb a tall mountain! I wish for you to carry me on your back!"

With another spin, you did just that, swinging Haku around so that his arms were draped over your shoulders and his knees settled on either side of your ribs. He reached up to drag his fingers through the rising cloud of floating seeds, laughing breathlessly as the wind stirred by his reaching sent them wobbling just beyond touch.

"I wish to see snow in July!"

"I wish I could whistle!"

"I wish my backpack was as light as Haku!"

"I wish my feet wouldn't hurt at the end of the day!"

All my wishes are that I could be with you. Maybe one day, I'll have the courage to ask you if I can stay.

#haku x reader #haku yuki #naruto x reader #alpha!reader #soldier anon #omegaverse #prompt fill #make a wish prompt fill #it snowed this morning #i feel like a lunatic writing about summer #literally gave myself whiplash walking back out into ice cold weather #io.omegas