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moonieandi · 4 months ago

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snapshots pt. 3 | stanley pines x f!reader

summary: a quick look through concerning the early months of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly centered around moments on the couch

warnings (TW): mdni, contains mature/suggestive content, swearing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use

tags: mature/suggestive content (in act iii), fluff, early relationship described, pining, affection

notes: please note that there is heavily implied/suggestive/mature content in act iii of this posting (after the second break)- if you do not wish to interact with this type of content i swear to you you can completely skip it if you like, i attempt to not tie TOO much significance to the written scene- and if you would prefer that the postings stray away from this kind of content i will attempt to better balance it in the future! i am in no shape or form a very “smutty” writer (mainly bc i have never written it), so i hope the scene isnt like… terrible ya know lol (also i don’t consider it much for “smut”- i am def using said word very loosly). annnnyyywayyys hope you enjoy and as always my dms are open for suggestions in the future and general conversation and encouragement! enjoy!

also to note! I believe the story is best read in order- i put certain dependences on certain words and bring descriptions back to really solidify the importance of certain scenes/interactions ! but completely up to you, lol

edit 8/27/24: hello! below i have linked the up to date masterlist for this series- thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

word count: 4.5k

| masterlist | part iv |

She had caught him sleeping on the couch in the early heat of June.

They had a late night on the couch, discussing Ford’s margin notes and rewatching The Price is Wrong. Stan had a certain affinity for price matching, and she was more than a little stunned to learn of it the first couple of months they resided in the shack together.

She just didn’t expect this 30-year-old man to know the price of most common household appliances.

After his divulgence last month, in which he had confided a little bit of his background in sales, she began to piece together that although Stan considered himself a conman in every way but words, she considered it pure brilliance.

So she quickly got used to late-night T.V. shows, as they discussed next steps back and forth, with Stan interrupting conversations to yell out extremely accurate prices at the small box T.V. in front of the couch. It had grown on her, actually, and had turned rather… endearing.

If not also incredibly hilarious, as he was so passionate about his own accuracy he usually forgot his volume, and sometimes took to ranting at her.

“Hun! Hun! This is a load of malarkey I tell ya! That vacuum price is way too high! It don’t even come with added nozzle attachments!”

She would laugh, and he would revel in making her do so.

They had concluded the night in a similar fashion, and she had stumbled up to her bedroom. The first one on the right from the stairs. But he had lingered in the living room, muttering about tidying up some soda cans and taking the trash out quickly.

She had shrugged it off, giving her goodnight, and made her way up the stairs. She had fallen asleep so quickly, she hadn’t heard the usual meandering steps of Stan as he made for his own room across the hall from her.

She almost never woke up before him, another thing that surprised her. She figured he was the type to doze in and out in the early morning, but he seemed to be quick to rise and even quicker to make a pot of coffee, usually stumbling down the stairs thirty minutes before she could manage to roll out of bed.

So she thought it odd to look down the stairs and not see the usual kitchen light on, and the usual grumble of the shitty coffee machine either.

She found him snoring on his back, the throw blanket she had brought with her half on half off him. It had grown a little muggy in the shack, due to the distinct lack of central air, but Stan’s solution seemed to be very simple.

Just wear less clothes.

Something that wouldn’t disturb her in the slightest, if it were not for, well… Stan.

She was a scientist, a usual logical thinker, and only slightly prude (due to her upbringing), but she was no idiot, and she knew the man she was cohabitating with was attractive.

I mean, he was also funny- made her laugh more times than she could count. He was oddly sincere for his age and even more oddly protective. He was flippantly affectionate and even more flippantly kind to her.

And he was also shirtless.

Something she takes note of instantly, instinctually. Whipping her head to make for the kitchen, and trying to forget the curve of his broad shoulders and the slight swell of his stomach. The smattering of dark hair on his chest all the way down to the crisp edge of the boxers she had folded two days ago.

Coffee, coffee coffee!

She didn’t make as good of a cup as he did, she had never had to before. Something he scoffed at, but quickly took to doing himself. He made it every morning, now. Always up before her, with her mug waiting for her by her worn kitchen chair.

She turned to the stove instead, moving pans and turning on the burner. She’d make breakfast for them instead of her shitty burnt coffee special. Pulling eggs and bacon out of the small fridge she went to work.

The smell woke him up, and she noted his groggy fumbling to redress himself. Glancing out the archway from kitchen to living room she watched him pass to the stairs, still shirtless. He takes the stairs two at a time, back up to his room to retrieve new clothes she presumed.

He returns in minutes, in typical fashion it took him not too long to get ready in the morning.

He walks in, still stretching, with hair muddled from sleep. A pair of work jeans that had seen a lot of love in the past month, and a shirt that was quickly growing too tight around his arms and shoulders. She decided to ignore that sliver of stomach that peaked out when he raised his arms a little too high, otherwise, the bacon would burn.

He made his way to the coffee machine, beginning the usual morning routine as it spurred to life. Moving to the sink he began washing their shared mugs.

Breakfast was always a little quiet like they both couldn’t be bothered to open their mouths beyond sating their appetite. They still moved the same, instinctually and without words. Falling into their unassigned assigned seats, Stan moving to grab her feet and drag them across his lap, while she moved the salt and pepper between them both. She always reached across to his plate, grabbing his toast to butter first and then moving to her own.

She had decided to interrupt their usual silence this morning, looking across to Stan as he fumbled with the morning paper. He always went straight to the comics in the morning, hoping to pick up on a joke to read to her that day, hoping to make her laugh first before anything else in the morning.

But she had thrown a wrench in his usual plan (that she still hadn’t picked up on yet).

“Why were you on the couch?” She asked, biting around her toast.

“It’s cooler down here hun.”

“I know heat rises Stan, but the sun rises on my side of the house in the morning. It ain’t that hot upstairs yet. Is there something wrong with your bed?”

When first rearranging rooms he had resolved to take Stanford's old one. He didn’t want her to have to live in the shell his brother had left behind. His more intimate nick-nacks and sticky notes had been scattered around what is now Stan’s room. Along with his random mismatched socks and sweater vests, and his cologne. And he didn’t want to think about having her live around the last remnants of Stanford, because she got this weird look in her eyes already when she retraced his brother's writings and he couldn’t stand it. He had lived with Stanford for eighteen years, and sometimes entering the room was at least therapeutic.

Except Stanford always had a weird affinity for sleeping on the ground.

It’s the main reason Stanley even had the top bunk during their preteen years to begin with, because Stanford would find himself stiff on the floor most mornings. His brother had a tendency to doze away on any hard surface he could rest his head on, starting at his desk most nights, moving to his bed, but usually rolling off it in favor of the floor. Stanford was… not one for restful sleep. And his hard ass mattress showed it.

“Ya.” Stan muttered behind the newspaper. “‘Ford trying to fuck my back up from another dimension.”

“You can have my bed?” She offered up her own mattress, one she had splurged on with her own money. He still remembers her playing Goldilocks that day at the flash mattress sale she had circled in the classifieds the week before.

He shook his head at the memory, them both laying side by side on each bed as she had discussed odds and ends. She had argued that she needed approximately 5 minutes on each mattress to sink into each, and that she couldn’t be intrinsically thinking about her comfort when doing so. So she had him lay beside her and talk to her, as she flipped from her back to her side testing out her comfort and considered the gravelness of his voice. Until she had landed on the right bed, the tenth one, declaring it her perfect match as she looked over at him beside her.

“Nah, I can’t take your perfect match, hun, your one true love.” He joked, folding up the newspaper with the comics up, setting it aside in favor of looking at her. “Besides my bed is fine for now. I just… sometimes I like being close to the door.”

She hummed. “I can rearrange the living room today? Do you want to move your bed downstairs?” She hadn’t even questioned it, still searching for something to sate his comfort.

He laughed at this, he would never let her rearrange things without him and she knew it. He had hovered something harsh those first three months, moving around most things for her as she pointed from object to object.

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I just, I ain’t used to sleeping in a room without a straight way out of it yet.” He admits, munching on his bacon, shrugging like he was discussing the weather. “So sometimes I just, sleep on the couch. No big deal.”

She sits back in her seat, shock marring her face. He had spent so long hopping from place to place she had forgotten he hadn’t had a place to call home in a decade- besides his car. Something that may have four walls, but had no heart.

Hotels, to cars, to floors of shelters, he had slept in questionable places for far too long, and in some cases Stanford’s room sometimes felt like a new prison, or at least reminded him of a certain Colombian one. Except this one contained taunting memories and a stupid amount of sweaters.

It hurt more, to open his door to find hers closed, for some reason. He didn’t like the thought of her trapped either, nestled in a part of the house he couldn’t get to. But he didn’t know how to voice this to her without sounding mad in a way. Or obsessive maybe.

She digs her toes into the junction of his ribs, grabbing his attention. She’s smiling across from him, and standing before he can ask why. Grabbing his hand, she pulls him up the stairs to their own parallel doors, not even hesitating to walk through the door Stanford used to call his own.

She’s muttering under her breath as he stands in the doorway, landlocked by witnessing her in this exact space for some reason. She moves to the window, opening it all the way and fumbling with the screen. She gets it off and makes to climb out the window before he can protest.

“If you want a way out, you got it right here!” She grunts, footing her way through to the shingled roof, his protests falling on deaf ears.

“Get the fuck back in here!” He leans out, making to grab her. “Ain’t no way this shack's roof is any good!”

She prances around, slightly mocking him by moving away from his waving arm. “Stan! It’s fine!” She laughs, the sun shining on her figure. Suddenly serious she stops, hands on her hips. “Seriously, if you need a way out, keep the window open, okay?”

She crawls back through the window a moment later, using Stan’s hand as a weight as she balances back on the wooden floor.

Still serious, she continues, “Stan if you need to keep the window open, you can keep the door open also if you feel like it.”

She smiles like she has a brilliant idea, moving across the hall she opens her own room to display her own mess of things. “I can keep mine open also if it helps.”

How the fuck had she read his mind? He was continually dumbfounded by her unquantifiable amounts of patience she had for him. Like it was a reserve she tapped into, to specifically deal with all his dumb bullshit. He would let it pile in the back of his head, but she’d reach back in and shake him awake, present him with a solution, and he forgets himself in his need to question “why?”.

He had taken too long to respond, and she stands in the hall, hands wringing her too large t-shirt and looking surprisingly bashful. “Is this okay?” She asks, is this what you need? Vying for his approval as she continues. “Because really I don’t mind you sleeping on the couch, I really don’t, you can keep doing it if you like! Really! I just… I just…”

Unspoken between them, he already knew. She meant well, she meant the best actually. She wanted him to be comfortable, here, with her. Wanted him to stop moving from place to place in the house because no where felt right because it all felt like a trap. Wanted him to know the four walls they shared could never be a prison, and that she didn’t want him to hop around anymore searching and clawing his way out of it. To not have to Goldilocks around the house, because across the hall from her had to be just right.

And it was. Because she had read his mind as usual, and he was almost tired of being absolutely astounded by it.

He nodded, smiling across from her, his confirmation in the squeeze he gave her hand as he reached for her again, and in the ruffling of her hair he gave her as he slipped from the house later. Making his way outside to his work, somehow lighter than usual.

They ended up on the couch most weekends, or at least most Saturday nights.

She had insisted, against his better nature, that it was not appropriate to drink yourself into a stupor on a weekday. So he had gotten used to the shared moments on the weekend, routinely looking forward to shitty VHS movies and even shittier boxed wine and beer.

She laughed at fucking everything when she was drunk. He almost wondered if she had ever been high, or if she even needed to be. He might as well be a stand up comedian most weekends, because if he thought he had a great audience Monday through Friday, well he had an even more endearing one on the weekends.

It was a hot July night, and she had scoffed at his light beer that resided in the back of the fridge. Tisking at him as she danced around the kitchen, pouring sweet red wine into mugs (their only cups), and shooing him back to the couch. Only wine in the summer, only wine when it was this hot.

And it was hot, and humid, unsurprising for Oregon really. So hot in fact, that she had decided pjs were appropriate attire for the night, luckily for him. So he shed his jeans in favor of loose boxers and a well worn shirt. Unluckily for him, she had decided upon much the same wardrobe, which was odd for her and only uncomfortable for sober him.

But he wasn’t sober anymore, and he had to admit she was rather enchanting hunched over on the couch, laughing at his shitty jokes with one of his old band t-shirts on, shorts that she made no indication of even owning, bagging up around the tops of her thighs.

He had been intoxicated on numerous amounts of things, nothing, of course, too hard or addictive per say, but it’d be the first time he was this drunk on wine.

And it was… different.

He had scoffed at the movie she chose originally tonight. She always chose the second movie, and he chose the first. They had a habit of in depth discussing during films, especially when more intoxicated.

But he had never been so incredibly invested in a romantic comedy in his entire life, he blamed his company and the alcohol.

“I can’t believe that he thinks he stands a chance with the likes of her! She’s sacrificed so much! Her jobs on the line here and he won’t even consider marrying her for a green card!” He yelled, just about jumping at the screen. This man in the movie was ridiculous, demanding things from his assistant and throwing her away the next.

She ran back into the room, mugs full with their next round. She had become the bartender tonight, waiting on him and grabbing snacks when he’d ask in exchange for rubbing her aching shoulders.

“What did I miss!” She rushed back, handing him his mug and taking her seat back in front of him on the floor, her throw blanket being used as a cushion.

He takes a sip, setting the mug aside her own on the floor and moving back to place his hands on her tense shoulders.

“She’s being kicked out of the country right in front of her boss and he ain’t gonna do anything about it! She basically does everything for this man, why doesn’t he see he needs her?”

She groans below him, her head rocking back as she takes her own drink. “Are we gonna discuss the intricates of them having a relationship though? I love marriage of convenience, don’t get me wrong, but that’s her boss! Isn’t there a weird power dynamic here?”

“Oh ya!” He agrees, nodding along as his fingers began to dig into her muscles. “We gotta talk about that because if this gets creepy we gotta pick out a different one. He’s already pissing me off!”

She looks up at him, eyes glowing with an idea. Enchanted, she moves away from him, crawling to the cabinet beside the T.V., and he really swears that he tries to look away. But he also reasons that it’ll be a while before he gets the chance to see her in shorts again. And fuck.

She turns back, a new VHS in hand. “This!” She exclaims. “Now this is my favorite rom-com!”

A shitty picture is well worn on the front of the movie sleeve, a VHS he doesn’t recognize from the donation bin sitting in her hands. She must have brought it with her, and she must have had it for a while.

She crawls forward, movie in hand and a bright, flushed smile on her face.

“Please, please, please Stanley! This one!” She all but yelled as she leaned up into him. His legs had already been parted to accommodate her sitting in front of him, but now were warm with her torso between them, as she crawled into his lap, movie still in hand and smile still on her face. She leaned up onto his chest, a fake pout on her lips as she looked up at him.

He forgot himself for a minute, excusing her silently for calling him Stanley in her drunken plee. His hand finding her waist as he answered.

“Okay, okay!” He snorted. “Better be a better love interest because this guy sucks.”

He missed her as soon as she left, but his heart still felt something sick when she yelled victoriously on the ground, hand raised in celebration, movie clutched to her chest. Rolling from her current position to the VHS player and popping out the current horrendous movie. All the while she giggled, and he followed in much the same manner. Laughing while running his hand through his hair, trying to soothe himself to forget her warmth.

She crawled back to him (fuck) settling back into his knees from her position on the ground. The title screen flashed, but he was much too busy watching it illuminate her face. Heart sick again when she leaned her head all the way back, hair across his knees and thighs, she smiles up at him, a thank you on her lips. Clutching his mug in her hands, bringing it to her lips for a sip before passing it up to him too.

And when he carried her to bed that night he wondered when the tight sickness would leave him. He never closed either of their doors.

It didn’t happen like this, that night.

Not from what he could remember anyway, but he felt too groggy to care about accuracy and too intoxicated by the image of her to care much for what was right.

Her hands had continued up his thighs from her place knelt in front of him, his back hot against the living room couch. She had climbed up on top of him, creeping up to sit on his knees and thighs like she had been there before. Her smile turned sweet into something twisted as she leaned in close to his face, the closest she had ever gotten to it. Whispering something between the heat between the two of them, something lost on him, as he tried to lean closer, tried to bridge the gap between their chests, aching to feel her against the very front of him.

He knew it was different because she had never worn this in front of him before, at least willingly. He had caught her in the middle of the night, stumbling from her open bedroom door to the bathroom down the hall, panties striped and endearing on her ass. He had seen them in the washer, had seen her fold them and tuck them away. And she was in them, sitting on his fucking lap.

His hands made for her, reaching behind her and dragging her close, his fingers edging the back of the band of her striped panties.

She gasps like she does when she’s happy for him, always jumping from her position on the couch cheering along with him when he gets a stupid fucking The Price is Wrong answer right.

And it’s how he imagined it, fuck, how he was currently dreaming of her noises. In bits and pieces he could remember, his brain scrambling to paint an image of her wanting him.

Her hands edge along the back of his head, running through his long hair, and tracing to the front along his jaw. Mouth open, her fingers glide along the bottom of his lip, teasing.

She whispers again, closer now. Her chest heaving against his own, her ass waits precariously positioned above right where he dreamt of her being. Right along the space he places her feet every morning, right where he thought she may kill him.

He catches it this time, between them. Her voice wavering like it had that day in the car when she had apologized for calling him him. He thought of begging for it, allowing her to say his name, but she had read his mind like she always fucking managed to do.

“Please, Stanley.”

He had surged forward like his own tidal wave, meeting her in the hot space between them. But he could only imagine a kiss with her, dream of it here.

He imagined it slow, and building. Imagined her hesitation and the pout of her lip between his fucking teeth, imagined her moan when he eventually came back for more.

Her hands pulled at his fucking hair, the only time she had placed them there to harm, and he groaned as she pulled him forward, meeting again in the middle of the heat they shared there on the couch. She moaned, her hips rushing to his own, making a new heat between them.

The friction between them was the same as the kiss, slow and building. Grinding herself in the curve of his lap, right where they both needed each other. Every pass slightly faster, every groan from her more imagined, more unreal.

The pressure felt real though, and her fingers in his hair felt even more so. His head thrown back on the couch, he looked down his nose at her, a groan leaving his throat as she makes a home in his shoulder, as her hips cause waves against his fucking lap.

Her breath is hot on his neck, something real, and her echoing noises move up his shoulder to his ear and it makes him hotter than he could imagine. Her groans come to a precipice, getting higher in octave and volume and she thinks to fucking bite him there, right on his shoulder.

The image she makes shakes him, his hands remembering where they are on her ass and hips, as he makes to work them harder, to somehow bring her closer and harder to the crook of his boxers. Her teeth nestle into him, and it makes him groan more, her hot breath and aching moans reverb off his skin back to him.

It sends him reeling forward, his own head rushing off the back of the couch, groaning in heat, moving in blind passion. His head rests against the top of her own, his big hands digging into the fat of her behind, finger creeping in through the top of her panties.

“Fuck.” He groans between them. “Fuck, honey.” His hips canting up, her moans echoing again, her teeth unlaching, like she can’t ground herself to him anymore, because all the movement is him now. He’s fucking using her, the pressure hot, and she peels back to look at him, a heat in her eyes he can’t have imagined. He must have seen it before, marring her face. He had, he swears, seen her with this heat in her eyes before.

He was using her.

It stops just as abruptly as it began, and he wakes to his discomfort. His room is cool despite the morning sun, the curtains by his windows billowing out with September wind. His door wide open, and his hand curled around something that no longer needed relief.

His other hand, clutching his hair in a fist. The back of his head tender from the pressure, and his fingers heavy from sleep.

He got up quicker than usual, his heart still pounding oddly in his chest as he attempted to catch a breath he didn’t remember losing. On his way out of his room, dresssed for the day, he peaks into her parallel room, her door wide open like it was every day now.

He groans low, she’s wearing the fucking stripes.

He tries not to think about it the rest of the day, tries not to be disgusted with himself, but his chest aches something odd and his stride is somehow uneven for the rest of the day. His heart carries something sickly when he sees her that day, and she pretends it doesn’t hurt he’s oddly quiet that day, or that he doesn’t read her the morning comics like usual.

She thinks it has something to do with how flushed he is, when she catches his staring that evening, as they sit beside each other on the couch, T.V. echoing in the background.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #stanford pines #stan pines #grunkle stan #gravity falls imagine #smut

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impyssadobsessions · 5 months ago

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DpxDC Prompt: Danny Overshadows the Batmobile

... Danny while visiting Gotham saves Batman by possessing the batmobile- unfortunately he gets stuck.

Imma copy and paste my thoughts on how I would take this from discord LOL

Bruce knows there is something wrong with the batmobile and runs test to see if he got hack. But same time conflicted because whoever hacked his vehicle just saved his life.

Also can see Fenton driving skills put to use plus with Danny's ability to phase through. Definitely makes car chases easier if Bruce can jack the runaway vans from the inside.

But Danny freaking out- using the radio or gps to try and speak after he realizes he needs help to get out of the car… and that Batman wont be As upset as he thinks.

Oo meanwhile Fentons are all over Gotham looking for their missing son… having no idea Danny overshadowed a car.

Danny figuring out how to send tuck a message to send to jazz…ends up being tracked by the bats who go investigate thinking tuck's the hacker.

Tucker trying to cover for Danny

Ooo imagine if they try to chase down Fentons because of them driving crazy(and maybe they're attacking batmobile because they can detect a ghost) and its the only car Danny cant phase through and even getting damaged by.

So he tries to plead in the radio to batman.

And then Bruce wonders if it actually was the Fentons but things still dont make sense… until the team that investigating Tuck brings in more evidence and probably Tuck.

Then it clicks.. Danny isnt ai/bot used to hack the car but Danny Fenton the missing child.

Tuck still the key to figure out how Danny got stuck. Apparently a certain part is made from materials similar to the thermos.

But catch is they need tools from Fentons to get him out so they have to bait them and have Tuck and another bat probably Tim help gather the materials.

Maybe batman confronts them, raising his arms as Fentons accuse batman being a filthy ghost that stole their child. While the others steal what they need.

When it looks like the Fentons are not going to cooperate and blast batman (batman ready to go on offensive ) Danny uses a shield to send blasts back at his parents beeping for batman to get back in.

They go on another chase where Danny drives the batmobile off a cliff and into water only to safely fly them back to the cave. Exhausted and powering down as soon as they're on land letting Bruce take the wheel again.

When Tim n Tuck finally get Danny free they all jump for joy then quickly reminded Danny is still in the batcave. And like oh right shit… they know what i am >>'

But Danny already impressed the bats so i can see them offering to help Danny out further.

Tim n tuck become friends and soon Danny gets a support of heroes. He goes back to his family whose so happy to see him safe… Danny putting in a good word about batman but it falls on deaf ears.

Pfft be funny this is the catalyst to have Fentons moving to Gotham to hunt down batman.

Bruce investing in the Fentons just so he can work on their tech and modify them to not work on Danny- and then Danny haunting the car every now and them for old time sake.

Thought this was just fun idea XD

#dp x dc #danny fenton #batman #danny phantom #dpxdc #dp crossover #dpxdc prompt #batmobile #bruce wayne #fanfic idea #dcxdp

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papaya-twinks · 5 months ago

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Hi idk of you've seen Max's stream the one where landos wearing a blue dime hoodie but in that stream lando made like music beats and they're like actually good but anyway I had an idea of smth with singer!gf!reader x lando where she like sings and he produces it and ppl go crazy over them and it can be like an upbeat love song like espresso by sabrina carpenter or smth idk just an idea xx

Warnings: swearing, banter

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!fem!reader

Summary: Singing had always been your passion, and luckily, Lando was also your passion 😎 (don’t usually put summaries but this made me giggle in my on head, sorry if it’s not actually funny)

A/N - idk what the quality so bad tbh

SMAU

y/n

caption: POV ur too broke to produce ur own song 🥹

landonorris: just twerk on stage for money. Oh wait, u already do 😐

-> lilymhe: stop hating on my girl u hater

-> carmenmundt: someone had their hater-ade

alexandrasaintmleux: I’ll pay with charles’ money

-> charlesleclerc: tell me how I know I already don’t have a say in this

oscarpiastri: sell feet pics

-> carlossainz: I advise against it, I tried and i can’t stop

-> user1: WTAF

user2: help this is hilarious

lewishamilton: aw, y/n! Was getting excited for another song

landonorris

caption: did some practise, did quail, did a race, did a heist in order to obtain money, further used money to produce song, usual weekend

y/n: I bought u Starbucks don’t forget that

-> landonorris: oh yeah the thousands I spent on ur song is nothing compared to that

-> y/n: I also gave u head tho 😒

user3: y/n and Lando r wilding

user4: this is so unhinged wtaf

carlossainz: I thought there was a few thousand missing

maxfewtrell: y/n u suck I buy Lando everything

-> y/n: he’s just exploiting us max, see the truth, he’s a gold digger

-> maxfewtrell: oh my fucking god…

-> maxfewtrell: UR SO RIGHT AHHHHHHHHHHH

y/n

caption: it produced my song 😋

landonorris: ‘it’ was balls deep in u last night

-> y/n: LANDO TMI

-> landonorris: uploading the sex tape to my public story

-> y/n: LANDO STOP

-> landonorris: beg

-> y/n: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE

carlossainz: I’m uncomfortable

oscarpiastri: his face looks weird from that angle

-> y/n: would u prefer the back? backshots?!

-> georgerussell63: y/n wtaf ur weird

-> y/n: Alr mr ‘my name is so common I had to add a number on the end to get a username that wasn’t taken’

-> y/n: (insult 👆)

y/n

caption: I love ‘it’

landonorris: look who’s thinkin’ about me every night 😨

-> y/n: lol not me

-> landonorris: for someone begging for back shots last night, that’s crazy

-> y/n: I humbly request to swallow my words and ask for more back shots

carmenmundt: ISNT THAT SWEET I GUESS SOOSOSOSOOSOSOO

lilymhe: mommy serving 🫶

alexalbon: wtaf is wrong with my woman

user5: not everyone loving it

user4: 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

y/n

caption: IM SO GLAD Y’ALL LOVE IT @/landonorris producer x singer 🫶🫶🫶😼😼😼

landonorris: AHHHH MY GF’S AMAZING

-> landonorris: YES YES YES YES

-> landonorris: MY BABY MY BABY MY BABY

-> y/n: ILYYYYYYY

user6: It’s a banger y/n!

user7: so proud of our girl!

lewishamilton: never Lets us down

fernandoalonsooficial: what does the ex not give to the man?

-> y/n: uhhhhhh breakfast in bed

-> landonorris: mhm 👍

landonorris: GUESS WHO JUST BUSTED OVER THE COVER AJAKKWKWKWOWOWKKWKAKAKAKAK

-> georgerussell63: Lando wtaf

-> landonorris: I’m gonna bust on u if u don’t stfu

-> landonorris: I was witerally hacked 😽

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #f1 #lando x reader #lando norris smut

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lubrumalis · 5 months ago

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konig headcanons! (realistic)

tw: nsfw

all of these are realistic hc! dont expect a normal konig

hes NOT a shy awkward pushover, just because he has social anxiety??? we can see through his voice lines hes a very cocky person and speaks rather agressively

“lets be honest, its better off in my hands.”

i hc that just because konig has social anxiety, he doesn’t express this through bring soft and shy, he expresses it through his bluntness

konig wanted to be a sniper but did not because he couldn’t stand still, has social anxiety, i hc he has some form of adhd

his very cocky and blunt shouting isn’t because hes mean, but he just doesnt wanna be seen as that bullied kid he once was

hes doesnt have horrible EQ, but the kind of guy to be incredibly unfiltered

also, this guy was literally assigned as a human battering ram, you think hes all soft and sweet???😅😅😅

no he won’t get angry or cry if his mask is taken off. just annoyed.

its not actually canon that konig is a colonel (correct me if im wrong, i couldnt find anything on the official wiki) but lets assume hes one anyway

even if he isnt, gets paid well. really well.

private military companies that deploy soldiers in areas of active conflict can pay up to hundreds of thousands for one soldier

considering konigs age (late 30s at least) and skills, probably 400-500k a year.

chose to join the military because he had an obsession with tanks and guns as a kid

a lot of hc’s say hes 6’10. i disagree, simply based off of chances and the fact thats wayyyy too tall for the military

but he was described as a mountain, so id say his height is around 6’5-6’8

very very intimidating. hes tall big and has the mask of an executioner in the 15th century. who wouldn’t be scared?

definitely will say some random german word in a situation where no one else there knows german. he doesn’t give a damn lol

hates americans (thinks theyre all obese, mannerless, and bad at geography)

brings up the most random topics. again i really think konig has adhd.

konig was not good at school and hated it, mainly due to the anxiety and how he couldn’t pay attention

also why he chose the path of a soldier

drinks lots of beer, high alcohol tolerance, this guys a true european.

loves austrian or german food. loves schnitzel and pies.

konigs breakfast is literally sausages, toast, eggs, and sometimes beer

BIG APPETITE. he could eat for 3 people.

a little insecure about his appearance, not confident in his looks :( also why he hid his face

but as he grew older he uses the mask for actual purposes of concealing his identity, he is a special ops soldier after all

kind of a cheapskate. he chose to hide his face with what, polyester? chose a piece of cloth over everything else.

has very conservative beliefs. not to the point where he hates abortion and votes far right, konig is just a little confused about some things certain liberals believe in

pretty political person lmao

not enough info to conclude whether or not konig was abused as a kid tbh

he was definitely miserable for a period in his life. hes in the military living a monotone life, barely any contact with others, and constantly living in fear he’d die

i dont think hes as traumatized as ghost tho🙂🙂

konig appreciates his dna and how it makes him big and tall, but sometimes gets incredibly annoyed at it

mainly because well, he got bullied for itas a kid

because he specializes in hostage rescue a lot of hostages (especially kids) are scared of him and refuse to leave the area with him

takes a lot of convincing 🥲🥲

has a lot of intrusive thoughts

cannot use social media properly

also texts like an old grandpa. uses 😂 and 🤣 unironically.

“Can we have burgers 🍔 tonight🌃?”

probably uses a blackberry or reallyyyyy old iphone

relationship hcs:

konigs voice actor (jim boeven) stated in a livestream that konigs wife would ideally be a mix between maria pedraza (actress) and rachael from blade runner (character from movie).

both are 170cm ish and brunettes

i can actually see that—konig is massive and he probably prefers someone on the tall side

first thing you did that led to your relationship with him? you tolerated him that is. listened to him ranting😃

i can see him with a civilian or someone whos in the military tbh

finds you pretty at first

enjoys bickering, he needs someone to simulate his mind

you know those stories where his s/o is 5’2, clingy, soft af, and neeeeeeeds konig? haha you won’t be getting that from me.

unlike ghost, who really takes his time to get to know someone and opens up slowly, scared to have his trust broken again

konig charges in like the human battering ram he is😁

if he has a feeling you’re trustworthy you are trustworthy.

horrible at flirting. he doesn’t know how to talk to women smoothly

needs someone equally as weird and funny

s/o needs to be someone with very firm boundaries and can stand their ground, i think konigs a really stubborn person, so for a healthy relationship to work, s/o can’t be the generic bimbo

konig wears the pants in the relationship

doesn’t let you pay. he has a enough money and believes men should always pay

(im sorry to break your delusions) konig does not strike to me as someone who likes a docile homebody. thats ghost (if you remove the word docile).

he doesn’t like extremely dominant partners either

imagine someone who is a listener, accepting yet blunt, shares his quirks, and has a very elegant feel to them

also someone very independent

also gonna get killed for this but konig would realistically not go for a girl in her early twenties. he prefers elegance and sophistication over being cute and jumpy

hates one night stands.

values relationships more than you think. he can come off as strong at first, but hes trying his best

ecstatic when you tell him you wanna learn german (hes not a good teacher)

doesn’t like play fighting, he thinks he’s gonna accidentally hurt you

admires you a lot. he knows hes not the best looking person and doesn’t understand the makeup skincare dress up thing.

isn’t paranoid, but definitely doesn’t say he has an s/o

if you ever get mad at him, konig will tighten all jars in the kitchen so you have to ask him for help :)

extremely unfiltered. he hates your cooking? he will say it. that dress looks better than the other? he will say it.

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #könig #konig #konig x reader #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x y/n #konig headcanons #konig x you

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helenofblackthorns · 2 months ago

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maybe it's just me but sometimes the narrative surrounding Julian & his siblings in the fandom annoys me just a little bit. especially the twins like he is not their father?? he did not raise them?? yes he did raise Tavvy but the twins are literally two years younger than him. they have the exact same age gap as Alec & Izzy.

like I understand where this perspective comes from, aka Julian. obviously it seems like common sense to take a main character at his word but you can't!! Julian's has a very disordered thought process regarding his siblings specifically and he isn't necessarily representing the situation clearly. he was forced to grow up very quickly at a young age and because of that he's created a narrative in his head that frames his siblings as being younger than they are and he's wrong!! except maybe Tavvy they ALL grew up too fast. we literally see Dru looking after Tavvy multiple times during tda like she's also raising him. and Julian is in many ways blind to that (he does work on it throughout the series tho, see: him letting Ty & Livvy go out on their own in London & treating Dru less like a little kid)

yes he refers to them as his kids sometimes, but again, this is disordered thinking. Livvy Ty & Dru don't view him at a father figure: Ty was literally the champion of wanting Mark to take over from Julian (and he hates change!!). Livvy & Ty also hacked his phone so they could keep tabs and make sure he was ok like. Julian perspection is not mutual, and even he doesn't always believe in it. exhibit a:

look at the language he uses regarding each of his siblings. in his ideal future, he wants to teach Tavvy (which is very parental) but he wants to fence with Livvy, and watch movies with Dru, and look for animals with Ty - as equals, as siblings. he just wants to be able to hang out with them doing things they love without having the burden of caring for them. which is also different to how Mark & Helen (& Aline) are referred to, as they are sharing that burden. he's not really bonding with them in the way he wants to with his younger siblings. (which also is bring us to the other contributing factor here which is that tda (& sobh) give the impression that Julian is closest with Mark and people assume that has always been the case. which isnt true but that's a whole other post lol)

anyway I really really hope twp digs into this significantly & we see more of the whole situation from Ty's & Dru's eyes. because I need Julian's framing to be broken down within the text for my own peace of mind and also because I want to see him finally have that bond back

#bella talks #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #julian blackthorn #ty blackthorn #livvy blackthorn #dru blackthorn #tavvy blackthorn #mark blackthorn #helen blackthorn #the dark artifices #tda #the wicked powers #twp

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artdcnaldson · 5 months ago

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ok i am coming in hot with my last thought on patricks sister au for the day, because it is bedtime lol. but here it is. (also gonna start signing these off as an emojicon, because i lowkey need validation and credit for this au actually lol)

i feel like at first he would be lowkey confused why youre getting turned on when youre being called pathetic??? but you really are just depraved and so desperate for him. anything he says to you is music to your ears. so you keep rubbing yourself in his bed. he tells you that you can think about him all you want, but you can never have him. it cant happen. you can never have his cock. patrick is too important to him, he would kill the both of you.

he gets kind of lost in it, forgets to keep that distance, he ends up sitting at the opposite edge of the bed. looking right at you. but never touching you. god you're so pretty like this. he asks you how often you do this, touch yourself to the thought of him. he really shouldnt be indulging you like this. he shouldnt be playing into your hand. he just cant help it, your sounds are so sweet, moaning his name so lightly. he really cant help it when his hand falls to his lap. its totally out of his control when his hand starts palming himself. how could he not be hard? youre as good as naked in his bed, touching yourself, moaning his name and begging, pleading him to touch you, to fuck you, to do anything at all.

and when his hand slip into his boxers? he tries to convince himself not to, to put an end to this. it really isnt right. but on the other hand... its not like hes touching you. is it really that wrong if hes not even touching you at all? surely not. he lets himself indulge, just a little. but to outweigh, he tells you to stop touching yourself. maybe its a punishment for you, maybe it just for his own pleasure. he watches you as you pull your hand back up, eyes fixed on his own hand stroking himself under his boxers. he sees the excitement flicker in your eyes, you think youre getting what you want. you think hes finally going to fuck you. youre wrong.

he tells you to get off the bed, sit on the floor, between his legs. kneeling right in front of him, big puppy eyes, desperately flickering between his face and his hand moving slowly beneath the fabric. he cant help but laugh to himself when he sees youre grinding yourself on your heel, anything to get some friction. he swears he sees drool spill out of your mouth as you stare at him.

maybe he just makes you sit there for a while, staring at him, begging him. maybe it just ends with that, he keeps you there long enough to ensure he'll be able to picture it later when hes alone. maybe thats all, he tells you to go to sleep, you whine and almost cry, until he threatens to send you back to your own room.

or maybe.... just maybe.... and hear me out on this... maybe he makes you sit on your hands to make sure you wont touch him, because that would be breaking the rules. and maybe he tells you to beg him to let you see his cock, beg him to take it out, tell him just how bad you want to see it, need to see it. maybe he is so intoxicated on the feeling of being so desired that you would do anything he asked. maybe he pulls it out, he lets you watch as he stroke himself. ugh maybe he makes you spit in his hand so he can jerk off with your spit :(((( maybe he tells you to move closer, still no touching, but he wants your face all up close. you're not letting this opportunity slip away, you follow his every word, every movement. maybe he makes you thank him, thank him for letting you watch him get off. maybe he even lets you lick his cum off his hand when hes done.

or maybe not, maybe he just tells you to shut up and go to sleep. :)))

-🐞 (if it's not taken by anyone)

GODDDDDD you deserve all the definition credit acclaim bc this is some good fucking food

It’s unfair how good you look in his bed. It’s unfair that you’re laid out like a fucking meal for him, rubbing your sensitive clit and moaning like a pornstar while he’s saying shit that should be making you run away.

He sits down on the bed— his bed— and he can feel how you’re moving through the mattress. It makes him think of those commercials where they jump on the bed and the wineglass doesn’t move, except his shitty dorm bed is the opposite.

You’re panting, mouth open so he can see the pink of your tongue. A constant stream of moans and whines and gasps of Art and Please falling from your lips.

He shouldn’t ask. Patrick would fucking crucify him. Would flay him alive for even thinking it. But he does. “How often do you think of me when you’re fucking yourself?”

You meet his gaze, only briefly before your eyes flutter shut and you’re bucking against your fingers. “Every time. Just need you so bad, Art.”

“You don’t need me, you want me. And you’re so fucking spoiled by your rich parents that you think you’re entitled to it.”

His cock aches in the confines of his boxers, the hard line of it clearly visible through the plaid fabric. Your eyes are trained on it, hungry and wanting. You’re practically drooling for it. He just looks so big, you want to feel.

He has to muffle a groan when he goes to adjust himself, feels the heel of his palm press against his cock just right. It was your fault he didn’t get to bring anyone back to the dorm to fuck, your fault he didn’t have a nice, warm mouth wrapped around his dick.

God, you’re just so fucking selfish. Why should you get to get off twice when he can’t even do anything? So he slips his hand beneath his sweats, beneath the waistband of his boxers. He groans, eyes squeezing shut as he wraps a hand around himself.

And then you moan, all pretty and needy. He opens his eyes to see your hand working faster between your thighs. He narrows his eyes, pins you in place like a bug with just a look. “Stop touching yourself or I’ll call Patrick.”

It’s easy to bring Patrick into it. You straighten up, pout, and obey. But for Art it’s almost a reminder of why he really fucking can’t.

Your hand stills, but he doesn’t move until they’re both above the blanket, slick and wet and sticky. A smug smile spreads across your lips as you slip your fingers between your lips, cleaning them off. And god, you’re so brazen. You’re just like Patrick, and it’s going to fucking kill him.

“Sit on the floor. Right in front of me.” You’re practically scrambling to obey— peeling off the blankets and settling between his legs. And you are pretty, honestly. Even prettier when you want him this bad, when you’re on your knees and peering up at him with wide, eager eyes.

Your mouth is parted, just slightly as you look at him. He watches as you dart your tongue out to wet your lips, eyes darting between his hand moving beneath his boxers and his eyes.

“Art, please, I just want to touch you,” you practically beg. Your eyes are all watery, in the fake way he’d seen you play at when you wanted something to go your way.

Your parents had fucking ruined you— spoiled you, turned you into an entitled little brat. And now look at where you were— on your knees in front of Art, begging for cock. It made him wonder if your dad ever spent time with you, if he was ever involved in your life beyond clinical conversations over breakfast and dinner.

Honestly, Patrick should be lucky that you’re obsessing over Art and not some random asshole. Anyone other than Art would’ve snapped already, would’ve taken everything you offered. Would’ve had you face down on the mattress while they plunged into your soaked cunt again and again and again. Or worse. Art could had a vivid imagination, and could think of a lot of things that he— no, not him, someone else— could do with willing pussy.

“You’re not going to touch me,” he said, as firmly as he could manage. “I’m gonna get my dick out, and you can fucking watch so you can see exactly what you can’t have.”

You whine, mutter something about him being mean. He needs to be mean, he needs to drill the fact that it’s never going to happen into your brain so you fucking get it.

He pushes down his boxers and his cock slaps against his stomach. He’s so hard, flushed pink and pretty. Your eyes widen and you lick your lips, leaning forward, closer unconsciously. You want to suck his pink tip into your mouth, taste the pre that dribbles from his slit.

You’re already drooling from the sight, he might as well put it to good use. He holds his hand out, tells you firmly to spit. You obey, letting drool pool in your mouth before you spit it into his palm.

Your cunt throbs as he wraps his slick hand around his cock, stroking slowly, so you have to watch every slow pass of his hand, the glide of skin. You are drooling— you feel it at the corner of your mouth, have to wipe at it shamefully.

You reach out, touch him wherever you can reach. A soft, delicate hand on the inside of his thigh. He groans, almost sounding pained as he rips your hand off and throws it back into your lap.

“I told you no touching.” His voice is weak, not as firm as he’d like to be. He wants to draw it out, make you watch him, get off on how desperate you are for him.

“Art, just let me—“

“Sit on your hands if it’s that fucking hard, or— I don’t know— walk back to your own dorm.”

You pout and tuck your hands beneath your thighs. It’s amazing, how well you listen to anything he says. He could probably tell you to bark like a dog and you fucking would. God, he’d hate to be Patrick. It must suck to have such a slutty sister.

Art doesn’t realize how loud he’s being— he’s so stuck up in his head. But you hear everything— the way he pants and moans. You watch his balls bounce as he fucks his fist, moan pathetically. Your pussy is just drooling at this point, swollen and aching with the need to be filled.

“Say thank you,” he says, meeting your gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, hazy. He looks so pretty, you just want him so bad. “Thank me for letting you watch.”

You whine softly. “Thank you, Art.”

He finishes with a desperate moan, coating his hand in thick white cum. The sheer volume of it surprises you— makes you long for it inside of your mouth, inside of your cunt. Art wipes his hand off on his ruined shirt, peels it off and tosses it across the room.

And then it’s quiet. You’re still on your knees, he’s adjusting his boxers again. You’re overwhelmed with the need to just press a kiss to his skin— anywhere, really. His ankle, his knee, his thigh, his hand. Anywhere he’d let you.

“Go the fuck to sleep. You get the floor tonight.”

“I never get the floor,” you say weakly. You want back in his bed so you can just bunch his blankets up and grind against them until you cum or fall asleep. He gives you a pointed look and you sigh, settling onto the little nest of blankets and pillows he has prepared for himself.

You fall asleep pretty quickly— exhausted as the adrenaline of seeing Art jerk off in front of you wears off. He thinks you actually look really sweet, curled up at his feet like that. Like you belong there.

#🐞 anon #Patrick’s sister au #hngngngngngg almost wrote an alternate ending where r pretends she was blackout and didn’t remember anything #so he felt guilty for ‘taking advantage of her’#but no that’s too crazy….. right…..

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alelathedragon · 5 months ago

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In a universe where Memes are the main source of media and power over obstacles. This man has no chance with his mindset xD

I love Mr.Puzzles, i love how he was introduced slowly and the more the SMG4 crew succeeded the closer he got to them, I love how utterly pathetic he is when hes not manipulating the stage.

Man is a stage manipulator. Not a fighter lol. Look at his twink ass, he was made for acting.

I love how he has that autism in him. He looks at the Meme Factory and only hyper fixates on the Comedy Zone, he doesnt find Memes funny and rather disgusting actually even when he can see right in front of him this whole building dedicated to SMG4's source of power in 'The Funny'

I love how. He can feel bad for others but only if they're on his side. He doesnt understand how his words can hurt people and while he is actually trying to be on their good side he ends up failing miserably bc he doesnt understand

'what did i say wrong? I just said whats true'

Its so autistic of him. But when he gets a friend: hes been secluded and alone for his whole life, bro doesn't know how to handle the positivity and constantly denies it. Until he sees his friend visibility in pain and he can register it- bc emotionally he doesn't know how to communicate with her. But seeing her getting beat up: he gets angry and defends her with all his strength

He doesnt wanna be softened up- he wants to be a TV show star and have power!

But bro doesnt understand Memes are what drives the power... And bro doesnt realize he actually wants a friend

I love him for that

Let him be evil but also keep him the awkward mess he is. If he gets some kind of redemption arc its gotta be a slow one and he GOTTA keep that theatric goofy ass to him or im leaving.

Becoming a nice person wont mean hes better at communicating with others and will suddenly understand how to think about how They Feel when he says something. But he can try, find his people who understand he isnt perfect and isnt TRYING to make you feel bad but he has a harder time thinking about others or in some cases can't think of others and how they feel bc to him, what he said makes perfect sense and is true! Isn't lying bad? . And id be ok with that bc that'd be a good arc, i just dont want it to be bad like a lot of redemption arcs ive seen

#rambles #mr puzzles #smg4 #smg4 fanart #smg4 puzzlevision #traditional drawing #tv head #hot twink #actually autistic #creature #memes #fanart #alela rambles

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chaeonlyknows · 5 months ago

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Casual - Jasper Hale

A/N: i know that jasper would NEVER, this is just for the sake of my angsty imaginations okay? he’s a gentleman and so so inlove. how could he? just bare with me in this alternate universe okay? anyways, please tell me if you hate it lol this is my first time publishing so forgive me if its shit. i tried my best, if this doesnt work out, maybe writing isnt for me… enjoy! and thank you for reading!

also, this is inspired by chappell roan’s casual, i just love her!!

edit: just fixing my grammatical errors.

Warnings: a little angst and mentions of sex, i think there were curse words? 18+!

my friends call me a loser cause im still hanging around

“y/n? what’s wrong with you?” angela asks you, jessica has been talking on and on about her and mike, so much that you unexpectedly drown in your own thoughts about you and jasper. “she’s thinking about jasper again.” jessica says, rolling her eyes. you turn your head around to sneak a peak at the cullens. “ugh, what are you guys anyway? what? edward got bella now his brother wants to mingle with you as well? like, come on people, im losing my friends to the cullens!” jessica keeps on rambling but your mind seems to be elsewhere. bella gives you that look that says “are you okay?” and you nod, ignoring jessica’s comments, once again, getting drowned in your thoughts. “—plus i heard that he had some type of thing going on with another girl. didnt emmett and rosalie talk about that?” and suddenly, upon hearing this, you turn to jessica with the look of confusion. angela and bella noticed this and angela spoke up. much to your dismay, you were so stupid. stupid enough to actually think that jasper hale would ever like you for you.

i’ve heard so many rumours that im just a girl that you bang on your couch.

“im really sorry to be the one to tell you this, y/n..” alice says, confirming what angela has told you. “i heard that jasper brushed off the rumours of you and him by saying you were only fucking, not so much as a relationship or bond. you guys were only casual.” angela’s words never left your mind.. you try to hold back your tears and nodded at alice, you thanked her for her honesty and left immediately.

i thought you thought of me better someone you couldnt lose.

how stupid are you y/n? why? why did you let yourself fall for such an arrogant boy?? you thought to yourself whilst walking on the way home. he didnt even feel the same way, he didnt feel what i felt whenever he calls me by those weirdly lovey nicknames, he didnt feel what i felt when he kissed me on my cheek. he never did. and you were just stupid to think that he’d actually reciprocate your feelings. you kept beating yourself up for falling in love with a cullen. unfortunately, you weren’t as lucky as bella. she fell inlove with a cullen that loves her back and you fell inlove with… well… a boy.

you said “we’re not together” so now when we kiss i have anger issues.

“hi darlin’, i missed you.” jasper greets you with a kiss as he sits beside you during your shared class. you pull away quickly and he could feel the irritable emotion that you’re feeling and immediately catches this. “what’s wrong baby?” he asks you searching your eyes for clues. you dont look at him and hum in response. “nothing, jas… im fine.” you respond without looking at him. it hurts, it just hurts. but i cant let him go.

you said “baby no attachment.”

“what’s happenin’ to you y/n? i thought we were on the same page? no attachment, remember? honey?” he asks. you feel rage creeping in you, how dare he? no attachment? and then he calls you honey? “i know, jas.. sorry” you apologise, finally looking up at him “no attachment… right, i forgot.” you said bitterly. you two had argued when he picked you up for a “date”, because he tried to kiss you as if nothing happened, you brought up the fact that he was seen with another girl and he got defensive which lead to this. he kisses your cheek and promises to make it up to you.

but we’re knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

“i’ll make it up to you sweetheart” he says as he adjusts himself on his knees whilst you’re in the passenger seat. he fiddles with your skirt and underwear as his lips start tracing the inside of your thighs. his grip on your thighs are tight and you feel your climax coming down. he continues, inserting his tongue in and out of you while his other hand losens it’s grip on your thigh and rubs on your clit.

two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in long beach, is it casual now?

“hello y/n!” rosalie greets you on your way to history class which startled you and made you jump a little. “uhm… hi rosalie.” you greet her awkwardly, taken aback by her sudden kindness to you. maybe she felt pity. “i just wanted to let you know that we’re having a quick trip next week, esme wanted to let you know that she wants you to go with us.” she says as emmett walks towards you both. “yeah, esme really misses you both, jasper will be there” emmett gives you a wink which you try hard not to roll your eyes at. “i’ll think about it, i might be busy though. thanks rosalie, emett” glancing at the both of them and walking away. you definitely dont want to get caught up with jasper on a trip, with his family. remember, it’s casual.

i know what you tell your friends, it’s casual.

“jasper!” emmett calls him, “esme wanted to invite y/n over next week at the beach house, we already invited her… so… just wanted to let you know.” emmett says as he and edward smirks at this. “you invited y/n?” he asked, very much clueless. “yeah, carlisle wanted her there too, he said she was a nice girl.” edward adds. “i might not come with you guys then.” jasper states, clearly annoyed. “what’s wrong with her coming with us, jas?” emmett asks sarcastically. “oh right! you two are just casual.” edward answers the question for jasper and the two snicker at this. jasper shakes his head and walks away before they could taunt him further.

if it’s casual now, baby, get me off again.

jasper kisses you, hard. he loves doing this to you. overstimulating you. making you come, again and again, and again… he loves how you feel, clenching around him when you’re about to come. his grip gets tighter and he fucks you harder. kissing your neck, chest, everything. and after you guys are done? every praise, assurance, word that he said vanishes. discarded. once he gets his pants on again, he leaves, giving you a peck on the cheek. and that’s all.

if its casual now, if its casual now then.

it’s saturday and the girls wanted to hang out, and you decided you wanted to go with them. you guys planned a sleep over for next week and you talked about boys, movies, and prom. which you didnt know whether or not you’d be going to attend. “y/n?? y/n!” jessica basically shouts your name to get your attention. “yeah, huh?” you say cluelessly. “didnt you hear what angela said?” jessica asked, you shake your head no and angela repeats herself. “as i was saying, this boy… andrew.. what’s his last name again?” she asked the girls, “andrew jones?” bella answers. “oh right! andrew jones! anyway, he was asking me for your phone number. he wanted to ask you out!” angela tells you and her and jessica squeal in excitement. you felt weird though, going on a date while you’re with jasper? “oh come on, y/nnnnn! dont tell me that you’re thinking about that jasper again?” jessica rolls her eyes. “i am, dont you think it’ll be weird? going out with someone else while you have a —thing— with another person?” you state.

dumb love i love being stupid, dream of us in a year, maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier.

“so? jasper did the same to you, with multiple girls. plus i thought you guys were clear on no attachment? remember? it’s just casual.” jessica argues. “she’s right y/n, you shouldnt settle for a casual fling.” angela agrees with her. you look at bella and she says “im with them on this one, y/n. im sorry but you have to be honest with yourself.” feeling bad for you. you nod your head and gave andrew a chance the next week.

i know “baby no attachment.” but we’re…knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out is it casual now?

jasper told you to meet him by his car because he “missed” you, and you reluctantly agreed. you couldnt stay away from him. he then opened the car door for you and same old story, he kisses you, you fight, he “makes it up to you” and you let it go, not wanting to argue any further.

two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in long beach, is it casual now?

declining the cullen’s offer, you didn’t say why or explain your reason. you just told rosalie that you couldn’t come and she understood. but, bella accidentally mentioned it to edward and alice because alice told her that you were supposed to be there with them and bella mentioned you and your date. “what?! y/n’s going on a date???” alice squealed in excitement which grabbed everyone’s attention. “who’s going on a date?” emmett asks, which made rosalie and jasper look at the three of them. as alice was about to speak, bella cuts her off by saying “no one! alice just got excited, you know..” widening her eyes at alice to contain herself. “y/n is.. you know? the y/n that jasper has a fling with?” he sneers and bella nudges him rather aggressively and he groans. “i told you not to tell them, it was supposed to be a secret!” bella whispered-semi yelled. “oh.” was all edward said and smirked at jasper who seemed a bit mad but oh well, it’s just a casual fling.

i know what you tell your friends, it’s casual..

andrew gets out of his car and knocks on your front door with flowers in hand, your dad opens the door and he gulps. “hi sir, i’m here to take your daughter, y/n, out on a date. i promise that i’ll take good care of her and bring her home before 8pm. we will just be going out, to the theatre, nothing else. we will be watching (your favourite movie) and after that, i’ll bring her straight home.” he offers your dad a smile and your dad is taken aback by this and hesitantly lets you go with him. before you leave he gives andrew a strict look and tells him “before 8.” and closes the door.

you and andrew had so much fun, he asked if he could kiss you on your cheek and you agreed. you asked him questions about himself and he answered them quite nicely and he let you speak about your interests. before escorting you to your doorstep at 7:48… he opens your car door for you. “let’s do this again sometime? i’ll see you on monday y/n.” he smiles at you and kisses your hand. he walks to his car but doesnt leave until you got inside safely. you were daydreaming about him a lot now, he was so dreamy. you thought. he was a gentleman and from what it looks like, he’s the perfect match for you. he treats you the way you want to be treated… but..

if its casual now then baby get me off again, if it’s casual…

andrew picks you up more frequently after your first date, he became your ride to school the past few days and you guys had talked back to back, jamming to your favorite songs… you never experienced this with jasper. when you both arrive, he opens the car door for you and almost everyone at school stops to look at you both. even the cullens.

“oh my god.” angela says in shock. she’s happy for you and andrew. she’s proud of herself because this was her doing.

“no way!!” jessica exclaimed. “bella are you seeing this?” she calls, the three girls smiled at you as you and andrew walk up to them.

what you didn’t notice was, jasper looking at you both. more like glaring into your souls. if he was alive, his blood would be boiling right now.

FLASHBACKS:

its hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser.

he unclips your bra while making out with you, both of you shirtless and his lips start tracing your neck and chest, he throws your favourite bra on the floor, discarding every piece of clothing you two had on. he couldnt wait to feel you again.

it’s hard being casual when im on the phone talking down your sister.

alice wanted your help on throwing a party, she called you because she was in distress about it. “i cant think properly y/n! it just seems like something is missing!” alice exaggerates as she rambles about what theme or what color she was going to use for the party.

definitely casual. you think to yourself.

i try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space.

“it’s not fair jasper! you’ve been going out with girls, you were seen last night by MY friends! do you not know how embarrassing that is for me?” you yell at him not being able to take it anymore. “baby… baby… calm down. they were nothing. look, i dont know why you’re acting up again, i thought you agreed? casual? honey?” he reminds you.

i try to be the chill girl but honestly im not.

“what the fuck? that’s all you have to say?” you couldnt hold off your anger anymore and opened the car door and you left. jasper chased after you, “baby… come on… i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” he tries to convince you, being the pathetically inlove girl you were, you agreed.

knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out.

same old, same old. his fingers play with your skirt and adjusting your underwear so he could insert his two fingers inside you. you moan at this and he begins to fasten his fingers’ pace, making you cry out his name. he kisses your thighs and removes his hands, replacing them with his mouth.

END OF FLASHBACK!

two weeks and your mom invites me to her long beach house.

“oh hi, y/n! we weren’t expecting guests…” esme trails off, looking at you and jasper. “hi mrs. cullen, no worries, i was just passing by.” you greet her with a smile and she smiles back. “well, do you wanna maybe stay for dinner? we’re having italian..” she offers you and you look at jasper who nods at you, well.. how could you refuse? you smile at esme.

i know what you tell your friends.

“wow jasper, that was unexpected.” rosalie jokes, “what is?” jasper asks. “the way you let her stay for dinner!” emmett adds snickering at jasper. they all know that he’s falling for her. jasper ignores their comments and went up to his room, where you were sitting on a chair, with a box full of your stuff that you’ve left behind. jasper had a plan, he wanted to talk to you and make it official before andrew beats him to it. he wanted to let you know how much he cherished and needed you.. he agreed to give back your stuff, but he wasn’t giving up without a fight.

baby get me off again.

“baby, what’re you doin’ there?” he notices you checking your stuff, polaroids and letters you’ve sent to him that he never bothered to open. “nothing, jasper. just checking.” slightly cringing at the nickname. he reaches for your hand and pulls you closer to him, making you stand up. he leans closer to you and you pull away, “what are you playing at, jasper?” you ask him and you laugh at his attempt. realizing that he isnt joking, you feel annoyed. “stop. dont even start.” you spoke. “start what baby?” he asks innocently. “dont.” you said sternly. he pulls you closer and kisses you, you melt in his touch. you know that it isnt right, you know that this is not what you should want… but you cant stop.

i fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner..

(you guys didnt fuck okay, just kissed)

you got the strength to pull away and push him off. “whats wrong, darlin’?” he asks. “stop it jasper. im with andrew, i cant do this. i came here to get my stuff back and end things. i cant do this anymore.” you told him. “baby, we can talk about this.. please. i need you.” he responded. before he could do anything else, you walk away.

your parents at the table..

esme and carlisle hear you and jasper walking down and as esme was about to update you on the cooking, you bid your goodbye. “im sorry mrs. cullen, i have to take a raincheck… thankyou though.it was nice of you to think about me.” you say in a rush. carlisle and esme found this unusual. “well.. atleast bella and edward are on their way.. no food went to waste.” carlisle spoke.

you wonder why im bitter,

jasper runs after you and he pleads for you to talk to him. “baby please. i was dumb to ever think that this was only casual. i dont want this to end, please. dont go with him. i’ll treat you right, i’ll treat you better.” he says while holding onto you.

bragging to your friends i get off when you hit it,

shaking your head, you dont say anything, it seems like you’re lost for words at the moment and you break his hold on you, running to your car as fast as you can and starting it. jasper stands still, if he had a heart, it would be breaking right now. he feels regret, and heartbroken.

i hate to tell the truth but im sorry dude you didnt.

driving off, you finally felt free.

jasper on the other hand, he felt frozen in time. wondering why he took you for granted. wondering why time is such a pain.

i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself. i hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell.

part two?

#jasper hale x reader #jasper cullen x reader #jasper hale #rosalie hale #chappell roan #twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #light angst

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anzynai · 9 months ago

Text

Kitty

Husk x Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)

a/n: helloooo, so someone requested a part 2 (and i enjoyed writing huskerdust) so of course, part 2!! this is a sequel to my first fic only you, which you can check out first if you’d like, but this can also be read as a standalone. ignore the fact that i accidentally switched povs about halfway😭😭 hope this isnt ooc LOL and enjoy!!

summary: another night of husk and angel existing together. of course, things are bound to happen.

word count: 1.1k

——

“I swear to fuck, I’m going to die if I have to work another eighteen hour shift again.” Angel moaned, leaning his head back on the headrest of the sofa as he stretched his legs on Husk’s thighs. Husk sat on the sofa beside him.

Angel had come back to the Hotel about an hour ago and as usual, Husk and Angel went to talking. Though, after finishing their drinks, they didn’t simply retire to their rooms for the night. Instead, the conversation had shifted from the barstools to the couches in the living room.

“Sounds like you had it rough today.” Husk sympathizes, because he really does.

“Tell me about it.” Angel rolls his eyes. He shifts his legs again and it becomes increasingly more difficult for Husk to ignore their closeness. Somehow, during their talk, they had gotten closer and closer and if one of the other hotel patrons had walked on them at this moment, Husk was afraid they would think they were.. interrupting something.

The last time they were this close was.. yeah, when Husk tickled Angel. They hadn’t mentioned it since, which Husk was a bit shocked about. He was sure Angel would be all over teasing him about his hands being alllll over him, or even when he discovered that the bartender was also ticklish. But alas, that hadn’t happened. That’s not to say Husk didn’t want to talk about it, don’t get him wrong, but how was he going to say that he enjoyed tickling Angel?!

“How’s it with Al, anyway?” Angel cuts through his thoughts, suddenly. Husk clears his throat.

“Same old. The fucker only calls for me when he needs me to run his errands. Leaves me alone most of the time, though.” Husk grumbled, recalling a time that Alastor had ordered him to fetch some sinner who had apparently tried to run away after their deal with Alastor didn’t work in their favor. What made it all the more infuriating is that Alastor could’ve easily snapped the sinner in front of him in the blink of an eye.

“Huh.” Was all Angel said, in response, but he moved closer to the bartender, eyes blinking blearily and yawning.

“Tired?” Husk asked, yawning himself.

“Mmm.. maybe a little.” Angel mumbled. Husk readjusted his hands, his claws grazing slightly against Angel’s legs. The spider giggled sleepily, causing the cat to chuckle.

“Ticklish too.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t either.”

“Not more than you.” Husk grumbled, his face heating up. It wasn’t as though he could deny it— Angel had figured it out when he decided to tickle him back.

“That may be so..” Angel began, sitting up, looking too smug compared to how exhausted he seemed seconds earlier. “But I’m sure I can still make a kitty purr~”

Suddenly, Husk didn’t like where this was going.

Talk about a cringy line. Purr? “Don’t even think about it.”

“Whaaaat? I’ll be gentle~” Angel traced his finger under Husk’s chin. It was slow and light and unbearingly evil.

“Hhmmp..!” Husk pursed his lips. Angel took this as a sign to keep going as he crept closer to the bartender.

“Sensitive, are we?” Angel smiled, amused. One of his hands went to Husk’s shoulder, almost as though he was interrogating him.

“Shut it, Legs.” Husk grumbled, embarrassed.

“Not denying it, huh?” Angel muttered, chuckling to himself. One of his arms reached over to Husk’s sides, squeezing lightly as the soft fur spread between his fingers. Husk turned away, a crooked smile on his lips, yet no sound came out. Feeling a bit bolder, Angel sat over Husk, so that the bartender’s legs were between his knees. Husk didn’t say anything, though it was likely because he was too busy concealing his reactions.

Angel smirked.

“You are a tough cookie to crack, Kitty. Good thing I like a challenge.” Angel teased, taking his other hand to Husk’s other side, kneading softly. Only a few muffled giggles made it past Husk’s lips. Angel used his third arm, determined to make Husk break, and traced along his neck. He couldn’t deny that the way Husk’s neck clamped down on his fingers was adorable. Husk would probably die if he told him that. So he did. And while he didn’t die, the blush on Husk’s face was more than enough to make up for it.

“S-stohop talking..” Husk groaned, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hm.” Was all Angel said in response, scanning for Husk’s body. It was true Husk seemed pretty sensitive, considering how hard it looked for him to resist laughing, but nowhere he had tried had been enough to break his defenses. So where…

And then, he looked up at Husk’s ears, an idea popping into his head. No way. It couldn’t be.

He took his arms away from Husk’s sides, which had still been methodically tickling him, offering Husk a small chance at relief. Not that it lasted long because a second later, his hands were scritching on Husk’s ears.. similar to how one would pet a cat.

“Hhk!” Was the beginning of it as Husk gave one last effort to resist. Futile, of course. Then, a moment later: “SHIHIHIT!”

“No fuckin’ way! Your ears!?” Angel exclaimed, laughing at the irony and reeling over the fact his idea had worked so much better than he had thought.

“FUHUHUCK OHOFF!” Husk shrieked, flustered out of his mind.

“Just like a kitten! So adorable~ Our one and only bartender taken down by just a few ear scratches.” Angel beamed, very invested in this display. Angel, still scratching his ears, scratched at his tummy. Did cats like belly rubs? One way to find out, he supposed.

Apparently, they do? If Husk’s laughter increasing tenfold was anything to go by. It was sounding a little hysterical, though, and Angel wanted to treat him with the same gentleness that he had received a few nights ago. He eased up on the tickling, only scribbling on one of Husk’s ears. Husk was still ticklish there, but at least he could breathe.

“Ahahangel..”

“Yes~?”

“Youhuhu suhuhuck..” Angel laughed.

“You bet I do.” It was then that Husk realized his words and even while being tickled, the disappointment on his face was clear.

“Nohoho mohohore!” Husk giggled, minutes later, his exhaustion at its peak. The moment he said that, Angel relented, but not before giving him a quick poke to the side. Angel snickered when he jolted.

“Been waiting for this, have you?” Husk grumbled. Angel got off of him, but sat close to him. Their legs were touching.

“Yep. Since you were oh-so kind to grace me with some tickling, shouldn’t you have a taste of it, too?” Angel said, easily.

“Not at all.” Husk rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look nearly as annoyed as he tried to act like. “Next time, it’s going to be you. Again.”

“Next time?” Angel covered his mouth with his hand, chuckling. He assumed Husk was going to backtrack his words because he had just indirectly told him that he was expecting there to be a next time.

Instead, Husk smirked, a sneaky look in his eyes. “Yep. Next time.”

#huskerdust #angel dust #husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel tickle #tickling #jai’s fic #tickle fic #lee!husk #ler!angeldust #ticklish!husk #their relationship is ambigious tbh u can read it as platonic or romantic but theres like subtle hints of it being romantic??

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6okuto · 1 year ago

Text

ASTROLOGY BOT

1.2k words, just timeskip akaashi overthinking and crushing on gn!reader. LOL

akaashi has always considered himself ‘on the fence’ when it comes to superstitions and signs from the universe.

he might say ghosts aren’t real, but never goes near a supposedly haunted site just in case. he’ll ignore videos titled “for you” if he can’t relate, say it must have been a sign only after something goes wrong, and never acts on them even if he knows he has to.

but he can’t deny that he thinks about it throughout the day when it’s something he hopes is true—that maybe he’s tried out a few filters and trends to see if you, his crush of way too long, were his soulmate.

it’s bokuto this time, though, that sends him a sign.

a tweet, really.

an astrology bot on twitter that tweeted 17 minutes ago— “sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.”

AKAASHI!!!

i told you!!!

i turned their post notifications on to see if they’d say anything funny again and LOOK!!!!

keiji watches his friend’s texts come in through as notifications, eyes mostly fixed on the tweet, re-reading it over and over.

it’s a minute before he texts back.

it’s just a bot bokuto

it doesn’t actually mean anything

but bokuto is typing replies in mere seconds,

awwwww come on :((

remember when they were like

be careful virgo they don’t have the best intentions >:(

and IT WAS ABOUT ME ALMOST GETTING SCAMMED!! THEY STOPPED A SCAM!!! O____O

whats the worst thing that could happen???

i mean.. well…at least the worst thing that could happen ISNT u losing a bunch of money T_____T

imagine if u lost hundreds of dollars bc u confessed ;——; scary…

keiji breathes out a laugh.

i won’t lose hundreds of dollars but it’d haunt me for the rest of my life like every other embarrassing thing that’s ever happened and u know that

but thank you

i’ll think about telling them

he’s vaguely aware of bokuto sending another text with his name in all caps before he turns off his phone. it lands somewhere beside him on his comforter, and he takes off his glasses if only to run his hands down his face.

there’s a feeling he gets, akin to both butterflies and a 10 meter drop, when one of these bots decides to let his imagination get away from him.

for a few minutes keiji lets himself think it might be true, and that you think about going on dates with him the same way he does with you.

the latest idea he had was taking you to a new board game cafe that had opened nearby. he had skipped then swiped back up to its ad—a perfect spot for couples looking to spice up a regular cafe date!

he hadn’t closed his curtains properly that night, and the moon lit up his room while he stared at the ceiling. would you be competitive? would you rather play a co-op game?

would you see him sipping on his drink, and ask to have a taste?

he thought about how he might accidentally have some foam above his lip, and how you’d softly laugh before tapping above your own to signal his appearance. he cringed at the possible humiliation of looking silly in front of you, but it went away with the foam you’d gently swipe with your thumb, or maybe even hold his face to kiss away instead. you’d tease him and say it was as sweet as him.

but it’s nonsensical.

as far as keiji knows, whoever runs the account is using a random generator to pick a sign and bullshitting every tweet in their drafts.

it’s almost always only a sentence anyway.

but does that mean it’s a sign that this one was two?

keiji forces himself to stop thinking and takes a deep breath, letting the warmth hit his palms still covering his face. silence washes over him, and he lets his ears focus on the traffic outside, and the sound of the washing machine running a couple of rooms away.

but then he thinks about you. and he scrunches his eyes shut and groans, hands moving to grip his hair before he rolls over onto his stomach.

there’s a thud as his phone hits the ground while he pulls the blanket to cover his head.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you, too.

not just tell them you like them, as if it was a shove to be courageous for once, but they like you, too.

did you like him, too?

was he good enough for you to like him?

did you hate him?

was he going to trust an astrology bot as uninformed about your feelings as he was?

maybe more importantly, was he going to let a bot dictate whether he finally confesses to you after almost a year of pining? a year based on the fact that one day you held the elevator door open for him with a smile and already knew what floor he needed?

(you had noticed him as the new employee, though he didn’t notice you while busy getting used to his job. he made sure to note the fact you got off the floor above him so he could press the button for you next time.)

and keiji doesn’t really believe in signs or the supernatural. he doesn’t want to let himself, because if he does then there’s probably a ghost in that shut-down building on his way to work, he’s gotten himself twenty years of bad luck, and he’s big enough of a coward that the universe decided to take it upon itself to tell him that itself.

but he’s hiding under his blanket when the absurdity of it all hits him—the anxiety and what-ifs and pretending he didn’t know you liked going for lunch a little earlier than him, and that he didn’t plan his break to say hello—and he feels like he’s sixteen again.

and maybe if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to feel other than being rejected, he thinks it’s being sixteen again.

so he jolts up.

and somewhere, in the back of his mind, keiji wonders if the universe jolted up with him, excited to see where this goes.

adrenaline working, he reaches for his glasses and fumbles to put them on with one hand while the other feels the floor to find his phone. the bright screen makes him squint, and the notification of bokuto’s “AKAASHIII :((” welcomes him before anything else.

sagittarius, tell them you like them. they like you too.

the tweet seems to be engraving itself into his mind as his shaky fingers hold his phone, and he taps your icon.

he skims the last text you had sent,

thanks keiji!! i’ll see u tomorrow then :) and remember we get off early!

it's a little embarrassing how his chest tightens at you his name and a smiley face. but he goes to type one himself, spending a second to mentally tell the astrology account they’re changing lives, but nothing more or else he thinks he might throw up—

btw if you’re free, did you want to grab food after work? there’s a cafe i wanted to check out with you :)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #akaashi x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu x gn!reader #hmm.... going 2 make a ramble post 4 this

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